Christmastime 1945

by Linda Mahkovec

  “I have to! We’ll have a celebration dinner for you! And we’ll go to Mancetti’s and see if they recognize you. When will you be back this way?”

  “End of next month. What about you, Gabriel? What’s new with you?”

  “I got a baby sister! Charlotte. I wish you could see her.”

  “A sister!” Tiny leaned his head to one side. “I never had a sister. I counted myself lucky to have a brother.” A hint of sorrow filled his eyes. “You remember him, don’t you Gabriel?”

  “Marcel? Sure, I do. I’ll never forget him. He was a good older brother to you. He’d be proud as heck to see you like this.”

  “I think he would.” Gabriel’s response had righted things for Tiny, and his grin returned. “A brother and a sister! Count yourself lucky, Gabriel. And your father? He’s all right?”

  “All right and on his way. He telegraphed from London. He’s coming home!”

  “I’ve often thought about him. I’ll never forget how he helped me. Didn’t know me from Adam, and he emptied his wallet for me, tried to get me to stay.”

  “He’ll be so happy to see you, to know that you made it. They’ll all want to see you! Sure you can’t stop by?”

  “I can’t miss my train. The snowstorms are even worse in the Midwest. Causing all kind of havoc. I don’t dare miss the chance to be with my wife for Christmas. But I’ll be back next month. Then we’ll catch up. I promise.”

  Gabriel gave him a big squeeze. “It was sure good seeing you, Tiny. What a Christmas present!”

  “For me, too. Well, better run. I’ll see you soon, Gabriel. Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas, Tiny!” Gabriel stood in his stocking feet, smiling from ear to ear, as he waved goodbye to his old friend.

  *

  “Tiny Tomorrow!” Izzy mused, as Gabriel recounted his surprise meeting over dinner. “I remember hearing all about him. You thought he was an imaginary friend of Gabriel’s.”

  “I did,” said Lillian, laughing at the memory. “I was never so surprised in all my life. And now I’ll finally get to meet him. And his wife!”

  Tommy had listened, deep in thought. “He’s the most mysterious person I ever met. Just when I was busting Gabriel’s chops about making up stories, the police came – remember? Spider threw a rock through Mancetti’s window? And I saw this skinny boy looking scared to death. Mr. Mancetti blamed him and tried to grab him by the collar, but he wriggled free and fled – fast as lighting. Gabriel cried – ‘Run, Tiny!’ And that’s when I knew he was a real person.” Tommy shook his head. “I’ll never forget it. Not as long as I live.”

  Lillian leaned over and squeezed Gabriel’s arm. “I’m so happy he’s alive and well – and married! Oh, I can’t wait to tell Charles!”

  Izzy had insisted on holding Charlotte when she began to cry, but now Charlotte was fast asleep. Lillian gently took her and carried her to the bassinette.

  “My goodness, but the years go by quickly,” Izzy said. “It seems like yesterday that I first heard about Tiny.” Izzy said yes to another serving of lasagna and looked over at Tommy and Gabriel. “And both of you with jobs now! I knew Tommy was working at Mancetti’s – but now you at The Red String Curio Store?”

  Gabriel smiled proudly. “At first Mom didn’t want me to work, but now she says it’s okay, since I’m learning so much.”

  “What are you learning?” Izzy asked. “How to make sales? How to count change?”

  “No. Mr. G does that. I help people find things.”

  “I bet you’re good at it. Mr. G,” said Izzy. “What does the G stand for?”

  “I asked him that question myself. He said I could take my pick. His name is Gilbert Gossett Gillingham. He said his mother was fond of alliteration.”

  Izzy exchanged a look of amusement with Lillian. “So, besides helping people find things, what else are you learning?”

  “Poetry, for one thing. Junior is always reading poetry to us and we help him decide which frames to put them in. Then Mr. G sells them, and they split the profit.”

  Gabriel bit into a breadstick. “And Mr. G has a lot of maps and globes and books around the shop. He has one of those big dictionaries and sometimes he’ll say: ‘Master Gabriel, how about a word?’ Or, ‘Mr. H, would you do us the honor?’”

  Everything Gabriel related caused Izzy to chuckle. “And who’s Mr. H?”

  “That’s Henry.”

  “So, Henry visits the shop?” Izzy asked, taking a sip of wine.

  Gabriel nodded. “He likes to talk with Mr. G. And he plays checkers with Dusty. Dusty used to be an archeology professor. He’s an Egyptologist.”

  Izzy looked up in surprise. “Does The Red String sell artifacts?”

  “No. Well, there could be some things in all those shelves. Dusty’s wife and Mr. G’s wife used to be friends.”

  Lillian raised her head. “There’s a Mrs. G?”

  Gabriel helped himself to more lasagna. “There was. Before she died. That was a long time ago. She was a painter. Her name was Violet, and she loved violets. All around the shop are paintings of little purple flowers, some of them by her – but most of them are not for sale. There’s a little glass vase on the counter and when Mr. G can find them, he buys fresh violets for it.”

  Izzy placed her hand on her heart. “How touching.”

  Tommy was paying attention to Gabriel’s descriptions and had to agree. “It is kind of interesting there. Lots of different people come in. Besides shoppers, there are collectors. And theater people, looking for stuff for stage sets.”

  Gabriel nodded. “Mr. G said an umbrella stand from his shop made it to Broadway recently. Front and center.”

  “It all sounds very intriguing,” said Izzy, eyeing Gabriel with curiosity.

  Lillian wore a skeptical expression, still unsure whether the curio shop was a wholesome environment for Gabriel. She was beginning to believe that it was, but still had some reservations.

  “And sometimes, if it’s quiet, we just talk about things.”

  Izzy was genuinely curious. “What do you two talk about? The shop?”

  “Yes. And if there’s something I don’t know, I ask him about it. He usually knows the answer. Like cockles.”

  Izzy raised her eyebrows.

  “He explained that ‘warms the cockles of my heart’ doesn’t mean clams. It comes from Latin for heart. And yesterday I asked him why people say a quarter past the hour and a quarter to – but they only say half past, not half to. That kind of stuff.”

  Izzy pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

  “Dusty, Junior, Henry, Mr. G. They talk about everything,” added Tommy. “The weather, the source of the Nile, who the best playwrights are, the Civil War, which countries make the best chocolate…”

  “All sorts of things,” Gabriel said. He spread his hand, as if offering choices. “Whether or not there are angels, death – ”

  “Death?” said Lillian, sitting up in her chair. She looked at Izzy with a helpless expression that said, You see what I mean?

  Gabriel nodded and finished chewing his food. “Junior says death is a good deal.”

  “A good deal?” Izzy asked.

  “Yeah – he said you don’t have to do anything. You can forget about your doctors telling you to do this, do that. You can just lie there and sleep. No pain at all. Says his old hands and knees will finally get some peace. He’s looking forward to it,” Gabriel said cheerfully, and took a swig of milk.

  Izzy leaned her head, slightly concerned. “But – won’t he miss life?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “He’ll be too busy. He said his spirit will be roaming the universe. Finally getting some answers to a whole lot of questions.”

  “An interesting point of view,” Lillian said, looking at Izzy.

  Izzy resumed eating, greatly amused by everything Gabriel recounted. “I must say, it sounds like quite an interesting place. I’ll have to stop by.”

  Gabriel’s head popped up.
“That’d be swell! You’ll fit right in!”

  Izzy looked over at Lillian, and they both burst into laughter.

  Over dessert, the conversation shifted to Tommy. Izzy listened with interest as he talked about his work at Mancetti’s, his time at the veterans’ hospital, and his relief that Amy wouldn’t be moving back to Ohio until after the school year.

  Izzy regarded Tommy with tenderness. “I’m so happy to hear that she’ll be here until the summer.”

  “Me too,” said Tommy.

  “So am I!” Gabriel added, bringing his plate to the sink.

  “I’ll clean up later, boys. You can get ready for bed.”

  While they said their goodnights to Izzy, Lillian checked on Charlotte. Then she poured Izzy a glass of sherry, fixed a cup of tea for herself, and set them on the coffee table.

  “Tiny, Mr. G, Mr. H!” Izzy said with a laugh. “An Egyptologist, a poet? I must say, it’s a colorful world that Gabriel inhabits.”

  Lillian turned on the radio and soft music filled the apartment. “He’s always been that way. I don’t know if I should be concerned or not. At first, I worried about the eccentricity of the place, the people. But he’s so happy.”

  “There’s no denying he’s getting quite an education,” added Izzy. “Of sorts.” She leaned back and looked out at the lit Christmas tree, the Victorian holiday cards on the mantel, the bunches of holly placed around the room. “You have a lovely life, Lilly. Beautiful children, a loving husband, you’re working as an artist. A life brimming with beauty and love. You must be so happy.”

  “I am. Sometimes I pinch myself to make sure it’s all real. When Charles finally returns home, then I’ll believe it.”

  Words from the radio announcer caught their attention. “We now continue our tribute to Mr. Glenn Miller, marking the one-year anniversary of the disappearance of his plane over the English Channel…”

  Izzy let out a deep sigh. “What a loss!”

  Lillian listened to the melodic strains and nodded. “So much has been lost with the war.”

  Izzy’s shoulders moved to the rhythm, and she gave a wistful smile. “My God, how we loved to dance to Glenn Miller.”

  Lillian had been observing Izzy. All night, she could see that something was on her mind. In between her laughter and conversations, a shadow would fill her eyes. Sadness? Regret?

  Izzy let out a sigh and sipped her sherry. “It’s funny how you can be so sure of something, only to discover that you’re mistaken. Hearing about Tiny reminds me of this time last year, right here. Do you remember?”

  “I certainly do.” Lillian recalled the exact moment when Charles, assuming Izzy already knew, casually mentioned that Red’s marriage to his nurse had lasted only a month or so.

  “I was stunned,” said Izzy. “I had been living with a false idea for so long, that it really spun my head around. It took me quite some time to adjust to that new reality.”

  Lillian took a sip of her tea. “I was stunned, too. I can only imagine how profoundly it must have affected you.”

  They sat quietly, both of them staring at the lights on the Christmas tree, lost in their own thoughts. Then Izzy gently spoke. “I heard back from Red.”

  Lillian set her cup down. “He answered your letter?”

  Izzy slowly nodded.

  Lillian sat expectantly, unable to decide if it was good news or bad.

  “He said he’ll be working at the veterans’ hospital through the holidays and would most likely stay in London for months, if not years.”

  “I see.” She realized that Izzy had hoped Red was coming home. “Did he – answer your question?”

  “Whether he loved her?” Izzy leaned back and nodded. “He said love never came into it. He said they were two drowning people grasping at each other in order not to sink into darkness. Locked in a sort of struggle – and when it was over, the marriage was also over.” Izzy took a sip of sherry. “She reconnected with a childhood sweetheart and married him. Red said he was happy for her.”

  Izzy sat silently, then pulled out his letter from her handbag and read:

  As far as love, I will say this only once and then no more. I have loved only you. That has never changed. I don’t expect forgiveness. I’m only telling you because you asked. I will always want the best for you, Izzy, and I hope that one day you will find love again.

  She folded the letter and held onto it.

  “Oh, Izzy. You two have never stopped loving one another. What will you do?”

  “I don’t know.” She put the letter away and took another sip of sherry. “Wait for him to return and then see.”

  “But what if he doesn’t return home for years?”

  Izzy turned to Lillian. “The thing is, I don’t feel that I’ll really know what to do until I see his face. If I could see him, look him in the eye and see what’s there, then I would know. I would know what to do.” Izzy twisted her glass around in her hand.

  Lillian smiled gently. “Then there’s only one thing for you to do.”

  Chapter 16

  The farmhouse kitchen grew festive as Kate and the girls worked on their Christmas baking. Jessica and Ed had gone out earlier to cut pine boughs, and now the greenery framed the kitchen doorway, emitting a fresh woodland scent. And Kate had placed the embroidered Christmas runner on the kitchen table, along with a vase of holly that Ursula had gathered on her walk.

  Frankie sat in his high chair banging a spoon while Ursula fed him mashed yams. Kate opened the oven door and took out a batch of Christmas cookies. She set them on the counter to cool, and added another batch to the oven.

  “We haven’t made fudge since 1942 – imagine that!” said Jessica. She had set out the ingredients for fudge and was now checking them against the recipe card.

  “We didn’t make a lot of things with the rationing. Well, this year will be different,” said Kate, chopping walnuts for the fudge. “I do hope we hear from Jimmy and Paul soon. They so enjoy Christmas and all the holiday foods.”

  Jessica eyed the warm, fragrant cookies. “Eugene!” she cried. “The cookies are done. Come taste them.” She waited a moment, and not getting a response, hollered again. “Eugene, the cookies – ”

  “I heard you the first time. I’m not deaf!” He sat at the dining room table reading up on the GI Bill.

  Jessica rolled her eyes and lifted down the vanilla bottle.

  “There’s the mail truck,” said Ursula, glancing out the window.

  Assuming Eugene would want to know the mail had arrived, Jessica called out into the dining room. “Eugene, the mail truck just left – ”

  “Why do you have to yell everything? God dang, it’s enough to give anyone a headache.”

  Jessica opened her mouth and put her hand on her hip as she watched him go upstairs. His door closed with a bang.

  “I thought I was doing him a favor by letting him know.”

  “Leave him be,” said Kate. Eugene’s spirits had been high for a few days, but he had slowly sunk back into sullenness.

  Ursula looked from Jessica to Kate. “This is the first day he hasn’t wanted to check the mail.”

  Kate leaned against the counter with a worried look in her eye. “Why don’t you go and bring in the mail, Jessica.”

  Jessica frowned as she pulled on her boots and jacket. “He thinks he’s the only one with any heartache. If he would just look around he’d see it everywhere. It’s still no excuse to yell at people who are just trying to help.”

  She kicked at the snow as she walked down the lane. At the end, she checked the mailbox, and gathered a handful of cards and letters. Ed came down the road and pulled up next to her. “Ride?”

  “Sure!” Jessica stepped up on the running board and enjoyed the lift to the house.

  “Thanks, Ed.” She hopped off and stood by his window. “Come on inside. Mom and Ursula just baked cookies and we’re starting on the fudge.”

  “Thanks, but I was just heading to the Bloomfield’s when I saw
you. Thought you’d like a lift. But save Opal a piece of that fudge. She loves nothin’ better.”

  “A piece? We’ll put at least two rolls in your Christmas basket!”

  Jessica ran up the porch stairs and went inside. After slipping off her coat and boots, she went into the kitchen and inhaled deeply. “Smells heavenly!” She reached for a cookie and began sifting through the mail – then she let out a gasp.

  Kate and Ursula looked up. Jessica brought the letter in her hand closer, reading the address again.

  “What?” asked Ursula.

  Jessica opened her eyes wide.

  Kate had been lifting the cookies off the cookie sheet with a spatula and setting them on a platter. “Don’t keep us guessing! What is it?”

  Jessica showed them the letter. The return address was from Iowa. It read simply The Kinnan Farm, Route 4.

  They all looked from one to another.

  “Maybe it’s the letter he’s been waiting for,” Ursula said.

  Kate’s brow furrowed. “Or it could be bad news from her family.”

  They ran various scenarios through their minds, fearful of what the letter might contain.

  “Go and give it to him,” said Kate. “And don’t say anything. Do you hear? Just give him the letter and come back down.”

  Jessica ran up the stairs and stopped abruptly outside Eugene’s door. She was suddenly filled with dread. She didn’t want anything to hurt her brother. She looked down at the letter, and then raised her hand and gently rapped on the door. When she knocked a second time, the door whipped open. Jessica saw that Eugene was trying to appear annoyed, but his eyes were red. She handed him the letter.

  His expression changed to alertness as he read the address. He snatched the letter and shut the door.

  Jessica waited outside, wringing her hands. She heard the rustle of paper, the letter being read. She quietly went downstairs, stopping once to look up at his door, then continued into the kitchen. Kate and Ursula waited expectantly. She gave a small shrug and looked back towards the stairs.

  Kate began pacing the kitchen, still holding the spatula. Ursula sat down. Then stood. The longer the silence, the more worried they became. Jessica put her hand to her mouth. “He seemed so sad,” she said, her voice quivering.