Waiting for Christmas

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21

Howard had become so accustomed to rising early that he found himself wide awake before the sun came up, even though it was Saturday. He lay in bed, thinking. And worrying. Sweet Addy wanted to spend her sizable inheritance on a girls’ school. And while he loved her for her generous soul, he found it hard to contemplate giving up all that money and sacrificing her future security. It seemed unwise. He’d promised to think about her idea, and he had. In fact, he’d thought of little else. He still didn’t have an answer for her.

Howard was reminded every day of how much Addy had given up in order to marry him—a palatial mansion, a staff of servants, a life of ball gowns and parties and wealth. She had never been forced to travel by public trolley in her life until she’d married him. The money she’d inherited from her father was her safety net against an uncertain future, and Howard balked at the idea of spending it. As the room grew lighter with the rising sun, he spotted the photograph of Addy’s grandmother, Junietta Stanhope, on the bedroom dresser. Howard sympathized with Neal Galloway, an impoverished immigrant who had fallen in love with wealthy Junietta. Like himself, Neal had wanted to give the woman he loved a life of luxury, and he had decided his only recourse was to seek his fortune in the California gold fields. Instead, Neal had died in a shipwreck en route to California. Junietta insisted she would have rather had the man she loved than a life of wealth without him. Addy said the same thing about Howard.

She was right; Howard knew she was. The Bible said to give and it would be given to him, full measure, pressed down, running over. He had known Addy’s grandmother—a truly remarkable and generous woman—and he applauded Addy’s decision to be like her. He had spent some time at work yesterday, figuring out how he could make Addy’s greathearted idea work and still preserve her inheritance for the future, but couldn’t see how.

Addy stirred and rolled over to face him, opening her eyes, and smiling her beautiful smile. “Good morning, Mr. Forsythe. I’m so glad it’s Saturday and I can wake up beside you.”

He moved closer to her. “I’m glad, too, Mrs. Forsythe.” She had plaited her long hair in a braid for the night, and he tickled her face with the end of it until she laughed.

“I have a surprise for you when you’re ready for breakfast,” she said. “Two surprises. Are you hungry?”

“Hungry for your kisses.” He stole a few.

Howard couldn’t imagine what Addy’s surprise might be, but when she scooped portions of perfectly scrambled eggs onto all their plates a while later, he was impressed. “You’re a woman of many talents,” he said, taking a bite. “Delicious!”

“Thank you. And maybe I’ll have another surprise for you next Saturday.”

“Pancakes!” Jack said, then covered his mouth. His blue eyes were wide as he looked up at Addy in fear for giving away her secret.

“That’s all right. I know it’s hard to keep secrets.” She sat down at the table with them and spread jam on a piece of toast she’d made. Jack and Polly gobbled their breakfast as if they hadn’t eaten in a week—or perhaps they were afraid they’d have nothing to eat tomorrow. The idea saddened Howard.

“And now for my second surprise,” Addy said. She rose from the table and untied her apron. “Everyone come upstairs to the parlor. My mother gave us an early Christmas present.” Howard swallowed his last sip of tea and followed her and the curious children. Addy produced a box from where she’d hidden it in the dining room and set it in the middle of the parlor floor. Jack and Polly sank down beside it, and Howard knelt with them. “It’s not a toy, mind you, but something that will remind us of what Christmas truly means. Go ahead, open it. Carefully.”

Howard undid the cardboard flaps, and he and the children pulled out and unwrapped the pieces one by one, revealing magnificently painted figures of the holy family, shepherds, and wise men. “These look very expensive, Addy. Are you sure we should be handling them?”

“I’m positive. The children will remember to be careful, won’t you? I thought we could display it on the parlor table. There’s even a wooden stable to place the figures in.” She sat back, smiling as she watched. Howard couldn’t get over how carefully and reverently the children handled the figures. He wondered if little Polly understood what they represented. When she found the baby Jesus, she cupped Him in her little hands and held Him to her cheek.

“That’s what I always wanted to do with the Christ child,” Addy said softly.

When the creche was fully unpacked and the figures placed on the table exactly where the children had decided they should go, Addy sent Jack and Polly off to get dressed. “Don’t you think we should put that up higher?” Howard asked. “On the mantel, maybe?” Addy shook her head.

“I want the children to be able to see it.” She seemed very sure. “So, what do we have planned for today?” she asked.

“I’ve only just decided, but with Christmas four days away, I think I should go back to Jack’s tenement and talk to his neighbors and the building superintendent again. I want to do everything I can to make sure Mr. Thomas knows where to find his children. Maybe I’ll go to the shipyard again, too.”

“I can be ready to go shortly.” He put his hand on her arm, stopping her, then lowered his voice.

“I’d rather you stayed here with the children. Or at least with Polly. I’m worried it might be too hard on her to go back to where her mother died. She must have been terrified to be left all alone after the authorities took Jack away. And then to be taken to that terrible asylum.” He shuddered, remembering. “I’ll take Jack, if he wants to come, just to reassure him that we’re doing everything we can.”

Addy looked panicked. “What in the world will I do with Polly while you’re gone? I don’t know how to take care of a child!”

“What does Mrs. Gleason do with her?”

“I don’t know. I guess she lets Polly help her. Washing dishes and such. Susannah takes her outside to play.”

Howard kissed her. “I won’t be long.”

Polly cried and fussed when she saw Jack getting ready to leave without her. It was an eerie, plaintive wail of mourning, like a wounded animal’s. Somehow, Jack managed to calm her without words. Addy was standing in the doorway, holding Polly on her hip as Howard waved goodbye to them, and he and Jack started walking toward the trolley stop. The sight of Addy holding a child, much less scrambling eggs earlier this morning, haunted him. He knew she would gladly do all these domestic chores, thinking it would please him. But she dreamed of starting a girls’ school, and he wanted her to follow her dreams.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, listening as Jack peppered him with questions. He was interested in every aspect of the streetcar ride, where the trolley stops were, and where to change to the next line, and to how to read the schedule. “Can I put the money for our fare in the slot?” he asked as they boarded.

“Sure.” Howard handed him the coins. He was a bright little boy, that was for certain. But the dilemma of what would become of the children if their father didn’t return home continued to haunt Howard. To be honest, he doubted that Jack’s father would come home. Should he and Addy adopt them? It would have to be Addy’s decision because she would have the biggest share of the work in raising them. As the trolley continued its stop-and-go journey through traffic-filled streets, Howard scrambled to think of a different solution. He tapped Jack’s shoulder. The boy was perched on the edge of the seat, peering intently out the window, but he turned to Howard.

“What?”

“I need you to do me a favor and think very hard, Jack. Do you remember any other relatives in your family? Aunts or uncles or grandparents? Did your parents ever talk about their families? Or did anyone ever come over to visit?” Jack squinted his eyes as if concentrating hard.

“I can’t remember.” He looked tearful.

Howard ruffled his hair. “That’s all right, Jack. Don’t worry about it.”

They knocked on every apartment door in Jack’s former tenement, explaining the children’s situation again, and passing out Howard’s calling cards. The look of longing and hope on Jack’s face when he peered inside the apartment where he’d once lived nearly broke Howard’s heart. The same elderly Russian woman had answered the door, shaking her head and refusing his card. Howard guessed that she didn’t understand a word he said.

“Tell her she’s gotta give us our house back when Papa comes home,” Jack said after the door closed in their faces.

“I can’t do that. We’ll find a different apartment for you. A better one.” Howard could have kicked himself for offering hope where there probably wasn’t any. They descended the dank basement steps to speak with the superintendent again. “Good morning, Mr. Pawloski. Do you remember us?”

“Yeah. He’s the kid who’s waiting for his father.”

“Right. We found Jack’s sister in an orphanage, but we’re still trying to locate any other family members. Are you sure there was nothing left from their apartment that might give us a clue?”

Once again, the man turned angry and defensive. “I watched the police go through the kid’s stuff, looking for things like that, and I’m telling you, the people around here grab whatever’s left over when someone moves on.”

No doubt Pawloski had taken his share of things, too. Howard decided not to rile the man by pressing the matter. “You may recall that Mr. Thomas took a job onboard a ship. Jack remembers seeing him off at the dock nearby. He’s expected home for Christmas. Here’s my card. If he comes back to this apartment looking for his children, please send him to this address.” Once again, he slipped the man some money along with the card.

Jack stood in the tenement’s tiny vestibule after they’d climbed back up the stairs as if reluctant to leave. Howard found it hard to imagine that the boy considered this dingy, drafty place his home, or that he’d want his depressing apartment back. Howard and Addy’s modest town house must seem like a mansion in comparison. A huge step up. Yet Addy had taken a huge step down to live there with him, compared to her mansion. Howard cringed every time he thought about it. He watched Jack’s face as he caressed the splintery handrail and realized that this tenement, shabby as it was, probably held all the memories Jack had of his parents and their life as a family.

A verse of Scripture that his mother often referred to when money was tight floated through Howard’s memory. Something about a meal of vegetables in a loving home being better than the finest cuts of meat with hatred. Addy had told him the terrible stories of her great-grandfather’s greed, and the people he’d intentionally ruined. She’d shared her memories of how vast and cold the mansion had seemed, separating her family members from each other. He’d seen it for himself when he’d visited there. She hadn’t lacked for material things, but for love and a sense of family. And he could give those things to her in abundance, no matter where they lived. He reached for Jack’s hand.

“Come on, son. Let’s go back to the dock and ask about the ships that are due to arrive.”

“Can we go to the church, too? And light a candle?”

“Sure.” Jack held his hand tightly as they walked toward the church. The snow, which seemed so white and pristine in Howard’s neighborhood, lay in gray dirty mounds, coated with a layer of soot and blowing garbage. “The candle isn’t magic, you know,” Howard said before opening the church door. “It’s not as if you can light one and make a wish, and God will give you whatever you want.”

Jack looked up at him in surprise. “That’s what Mama did.”

“No, I think she probably said a prayer for your father, and the candle was a symbol of that prayer. God knows all our needs before we even ask. And He knows the best way to answer our prayers, even if it isn’t always what we wish for.”

Jack seemed unconvinced. He released Howard’s hand and ran up the aisle to the flickering rack of candles. Howard watched him light one, then kneel to pray, his forehead pressed against his folded hands. Howard sighed and went to talk with the priest. The man shook his head at the seeming futility of their search and promised to give Howard’s card to Mr. Thomas if he came.

Afterward, Howard walked through the gray snow to the shipyard with Jack, his toes turning numb with cold. He wiggled them inside his shoes as he waited to speak with the owner again. The man remembered them and knew why they had come. “All the ships we were expecting before Christmas have docked except for one. It’s due to arrive tomorrow.”

“And no sign of Mr. Thomas?”

“We put your card in the pay packets of all the sailors named Thomas but none of them seemed to know what you were talking about. Sorry.”

“Thanks for trying.”

“Like I said, your missing man may have signed on with a foreign ship.”

“I appreciate your help. Have a Merry Christmas.”

Howard had to face the possibility that the children’s father might have deliberately abandoned his family. Perhaps the rosy picture Jack painted of a loving father had sprung from a hopeful imagination of how he wished his homelife had been. Discouragement made Howard’s steps heavy as they climbed aboard the streetcar for the long, tedious ride home. He could well imagine how Jack must feel. With his future uncertain, no wonder the boy was stealing food from the pantry and change from the money jar.

“I have one more errand to run, Jack. Do you want me to take you to the town house first? Are you getting tired? Cold?”

“Where’re you going?”

Howard managed a smile. “I want to stop at a tree lot and buy a Christmas tree. To surprise the ladies.”

“Okay,” Jack said with a shrug. “I’ll go.”

“Did you ever have a Christmas tree before?”

“No, but I seen them in places.”

They finally got off and walked two blocks toward the lot. Howard had passed it every day on his way to and from work and hoped they still had some good trees left this close to Christmas. As he prepared to cross the street, he noticed, for the first time, a vacant house across from the Christmas tree lot. It had a For Sale sign in the window. The large home looked as though it had once belonged to a wealthy family before the bustling neighborhood had sprung up around it and the upper class had built new houses farther north. The Gothic stone structure seemed out of place on a street lined with small shops—a grocer, a fruit seller, a cobbler, a tailor shop. The modest stores had apartments on the floors above them.

“Hold on a minute, Jack. I want to check out this house.” He bounded up the steps to the front porch and peered through the windows at the large, empty rooms. The house stood on a corner, so Howard circled around to the rear, looking inside every window he could reach. He ended up in front again, and decided to go into the crammed little grocery store next door. The owner was dusting the tall shelves of goods behind the counter. “Good morning. Do you know anything about that house for sale next door?”

“Not much. It’s been vacant for a year or two. Used to be a ‘finishing school’ until the two old spinsters who ran it passed on. I always wondered what it was that needed finishing,” he said with a laugh.

Howard’s heart pounded with excitement. It would be perfect for Addy’s school. He wondered how much it cost. How much of her inheritance would be eaten up if she bought it and restored it? Would there be any money left for Addy’s future? He paused for a long moment, deliberating, while Jack wandered a few feet away, eyeing a display of apples. Howard watched the boy, and for a moment, it looked as though he might be thinking of pocketing one. Without a home, Jack and Polly would have little choice except to steal in order to live. Then the boy saw Howard watching him, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Are we still getting a tree?” he asked.

“Yes. In a minute.”

Suddenly, Howard saw himself in Jack. The boy feared an unknown future and had been stealing to try to secure a future for himself and Polly. Was Howard also ‘stealing’ because of his fear of the future? By hoarding Addy’s inheritance, he would be stealing a better future from all the young women she wanted to help. Didn’t he trust God?

Howard nearly laughed out loud as all his anxious fretting about money and the future came into focus. God was a trustworthy Father. He loved Addy as much as Howard did. He could be trusted to provide for her future. Peace flooded Howard’s heart.

“Can I get you something?” the grocer asked.

“Hmm? Pardon? Yes. Yes! You wouldn’t happen to sell popcorn, would you?”

“Decorating a Christmas tree, are you?”

“That’s right.”

The man scooped dried corn from a bin and showed it to Howard before pouring it into a bag. “This enough?”

“Give us two scoops. If I remember correctly, my brothers and I always ate more popcorn than we ever strung.” He paid the man and took Jack’s hand again.

“Merry Christmas,” the man called as they opened the door.

Howard turned back. “Yes. Merry Christmas!”

Christmas. When God showed His great love by giving the world His most precious gift—His Son. Howard went outside into the cold again, happier than he’d felt in months. No doubt he would still worry about the future and agonize over not being a good provider for his beloved Addy. But God knew the future, and that was enough.

“Let’s find a Christmas tree, Jack.”

They searched through the lot. Some were too tall, some too short. Too full or too spindly. At last, they found the perfect one and negotiated a good price. He tipped the young lad who pushed it to the town house for him in a wheelbarrow and helped him and Jack wrestle it through the front door.

“Oh, my! It’s so big. Is it going to fit?” Addy asked.

“We’ll find out in a minute.” They moved a chair and an end table to make room for it in the parlor window, facing the street. Polly seemed frightened by it at first, but Jack gently nudged her closer for a better look. He put a branch to his nose, sniffing dramatically, then motioned for her to do the same. She copied him, inhaling the scent, then beamed a wide smile. Polly reached to touch the tree, then drew back when the needles prickled her hand. She and Jack laughed, then she reached to smell it again.

Howard stood in the doorway with his arm around Addy, watching them. He marveled at the boy’s tender patience. “There are so few trees in the children’s neighborhood, it’s little wonder this is a novelty.”

“Any luck at the tenement or the shipyard?” she whispered.

Howard shook his head. “What do you say we get busy and start decorating this tree?”

Addy looked up at him. “Where do we start? I’ve never decorated one before.”

“You’re joking.”

“Our trees were always enormous, and they had to be decorated perfectly. Mother hired a crew of florists and experts to do it.”

“Astonishing. Well, we’ll start with this.” He held up the paper bag, shaking it so the corn rattled.

“What is that?”

“Corn. We can pop it and string it together to make decorations for the tree.”

“Do you know how to pop corn?” she asked, as if such a thing was a complicated mystery.

Howard laughed and lifted her up, twirling her around before kissing her and setting her down again. “Come on. I’ll teach you.”