Blue Christmas

by Mary Kay Andrews

  I nodded in Annie’s direction. “She brought it here,” I said.

  A single tear floated down the old woman’s haunted face.

  “You’re Paula, right?” I asked. “Paula Stipanek.”

  She tried furiously to blink the tears away. “Not Stipanek. Not anymore. It’s Paula Gambrell.”

  “Welcome home, Paula,” I said. “I’d introduce you to the rest of your family too, but they had to leave early. I’m afraid it’s just me and you. And your son.”

  “Danny.” She whispered the name. “Oh, God. I should never have come back.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Is this some kind of joke?” Daniel asked, his face ashen under the shock of hair that had fallen in his eye. “Are you for real?”

  The old lady reached out and touched his hand, but he jerked away from her. “Danny?”

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” I said, heading for the kitchen. “Coffee. I’ll make some coffee. And, Annie, I mean, Paula, would you like some dessert? I’ve got cake and pie—”

  Daniel grabbed my hand. “Stay.” Then his face softened, and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Please?”

  “Only if it’s okay with your mom,” I said, glancing over at Paula.

  She peeled off the BC letter sweater and thrust it at me. “Here. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it. I shouldn’t have come here and bothered you at all. I’ll just go. All right?”

  She was edging back toward the front door.

  “Do what you want,” Daniel said, looking down at the teddy bear. “But tell me something, what’s this supposed to mean? Why did you come back after all this time? Why now?”

  The old lady’s eyes filled with tears again. “I’ve been back in Savannah for a couple months now. I came…I guess I came back because I had nowhere else to go.”

  She stared down at the floor. “Hoyt. My husband? He died in September. He’d been sick for a long time, ever since he went to prison. Heart disease.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said as I perched on the arm of the sofa. “Please, won’t you sit down? And let me fix you something to eat and drink?”

  “I’m really not hungry,” Paula said with a sad smile. “We had a feast at the Salvation Army tonight. Ham and collard greens and mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie, and eggnog, without the whiskey, of course.”

  “I still don’t understand what you’re doing here,” Daniel said, his jaw set in a hard, unforgiving line.

  Paula shrugged. “I’m not sure I understand myself. I guess I needed to make sure you were all right.”

  “I’m fine,” he snapped. “Anyway, you’re a day late and a dollar short.”

  “Daniel!” I punched his arm angrily. “If you can’t be polite, you can leave. This is my home and your mother is a guest of mine. “

  Paula sat uneasily on the edge of the armchair nearest the door. “I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do about me. I feel that way about myself. Worse, maybe, if that’s possible.”

  “You don’t know anything about how I feel about you walking away and leaving us,” Daniel said. “Leaving us for him. I felt something years ago. But I don’t now. I don’t feel one way or another about you.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to feel any differently,” Paula said. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap. “But that doesn’t stop me from caring about you. From worrying about you and your life. And your brothers.”

  “That’s just a pile of crap,” Daniel said angrily. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

  Now he was the one who was standing up and walking toward the door.

  “Dammit!” I said fiercely, grabbing his arm. “Just stay. Hear what she has to say.”

  He sank back down onto the sofa, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’m listening.”

  Paula’s face softened and she almost smiled. “You used to do that when you were a little boy. You were the most mule-headed child I’d ever seen. If you didn’t get what you wanted, you’d stick out that chin and cross your arms and just dig in your heels. People said you got that from me.”

  Daniel stared at the ceiling.

  “I never meant to leave you for good,” Paula said. “After Hoyt went to prison, I thought, well, I thought I’d send for you boys after things settled down. But there was no money. I was living in a tiny little apartment not far from the prison down in Jacksonville, waitressing in a coffee shop, working nights. Eventually, after a year or so, I did come back to Savannah. I meant to take you all back to Jacksonville with me. I’d been saving up to get a larger place, and I figured Derek was old enough then, he could look after you younger boys while I worked.”

  “You came back?” Daniel seemed surprised. “Nobody ever told us.”

  “Nobody knew,” Paula said. “Your aunt was furious with me for leaving. I didn’t dare call her or come around the house while you were staying with her. I just kind of snuck into town. I rode past the house, and I actually saw you and Eric outside, shooting basketball at that hoop she’d tacked up on the garage. And you looked happy, you know? I drove past your school, and I watched Derek’s football practice. I just…didn’t have the heart to uproot you. You boys were settled in school, you had your friends, and your aunt. I couldn’t ask you to make that move.”

  “You could have given us the option of deciding for ourselves,” Daniel said, his voice icy. “Instead of playing the martyr.”

  “I was a coward,” Paula said, sitting up very straight. “There’d been that big scandal, when Hoyt was arrested, and then the trial. It was so ugly. Everybody thought I was trash. I thought so too. And I thought, if I weren’t around, eventually people would forget that I was your mother. Then…the longer I stayed away, the harder it seemed I could ever get my boys back.”

  “We did all right for ourselves,” Daniel said. “All three of us. Despite what you did to us.”

  “You did more than all right,” Paula said eagerly. Her face was glowing now. “I’ve seen the restaurant, how successful it is. And the children, Eric’s and Derek’s, so beautiful. A friend here loans me a car sometimes, and I drive past their houses. I snuck into Stormy’s dance recital last month.” She sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to hold those precious babies.”

  “You still can,” I said, ignoring Daniel’s icy glare. “The past is past. I bet if Eric and Derek talked to you, if they heard your side of things, they’d want to see you. Want you to get to know your grandchildren.”

  “No,” Paula said hastily. “I don’t have that right. Seeing them is enough for now.”

  “Paula? Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Were you the one who broke into this house—and ate the appetizers?”

  She blushed and nodded. “I didn’t really break in. You left a set of keys on the seat of your truck one night. I took them so nobody else would. There’s a lot of crime downtown, you know.”

  “I do now,” I said, laughing.

  “I ran off those street bums after they picked all the fruit off your beautiful decorations that night,” she said proudly.

  “If they were really hungry, they were welcome to the fruit.”

  “And I want to apologize about taking your goodies,” Paula said. “I didn’t realize you were having a party that night. I shared it with the girls over at the Salvation. They’d never seen such grand food in their lives.”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “As it turns out, there was plenty of food for everybody.”

  “And Jethro?” I asked. “You found him and brought him home?”

  She nodded. “He was way down on River Street, rummaging through some garbage cans in back of one of the bars down there. He’s a sweet old thing, isn’t he? He came along just as nice as you please, once I tied that rope to his collar.”

  “So—” Daniel cut in. “You’ve been watching us? Me and Weezie? Why?”

  “I was worried about you,” she said simply. “Your brothers, they’re settled down. Got nice wives and children and h
omes. And this young lady”—she gestured toward me—“you’ve been keeping her steady company.”

  Now it was my turn to blush.

  “We’ll settle down,” Daniel said. “When the time is right.”

  “What makes you think the time is ever right?” Paula said. “You think God cares about your plans? I thought I’d have all the time in the world with your daddy. But I was wrong. About that and a lot of other things.”

  Daniel gave a derisive snort.

  “Do you love her, son?”

  His face darkened. “That’s between us.”

  “Just answer, please. As a favor to an old lady.”

  He reached over and took my hand. “I’ve loved her since I was eighteen years old.”

  Paula nodded at me. “And you?”

  I smiled and nodded. “He kind of grows on you, doesn’t he?”

  “He was an ornery baby,” she said. “Beautiful, but ornery.”

  “Still is,” I agreed. “Paula, where have you been the past few days? When you didn’t pick up your present, I was really worried.”

  “Present?” Daniel asked.

  “Your mother and I have been exchanging Christmas gifts for the past few days,” I said. “She gave me some wonderful gifts. A room key to the old DeSoto Hotel. A tiny seashell. A gorgeous blue John Ryan bottle. And this,” I said, touching the Christmas tree brooch pinned to my collar.

  “But you bought that pin. At the auction,” Daniel said. “And she stole it.”

  “Borrowed it,” Paula and I said at the exact same time.

  “And I gave it back,” Paula added. “Weezie’s given me gifts too.” She held up the red plaid gift bag. “First gifts anybody’s given me in years.”

  “But where have you been?” I asked.

  “Jacksonville,” Paula said. “I took the bus back down to Jacksonville. I was going to stay down there too. I’d seen about my boys. They were doing just fine. Even Daniel.”

  “Then why come back?” Daniel challenged.

  “I had all my things in storage, in the prison chaplain’s basement,” Paula said. “Not that there was very much. I’ve learned to live lean since Hoyt died. I was going through my things, and I found that,” she said, pointing at the bear. “And I wanted you to have it, son.”

  “Old bear,” Daniel said, holding the tattered stuffed animal in both hands. “I’d forgotten about him.”

  “You slept with him until you were six, and your brothers teased you so for being a baby, you threw it in the trash,” Paula said. “I rescued him, and I’ve been saving him all this time. Do you remember the song he plays?”

  Daniel turned the bear over and wound a key protruding from his back.

  “Teddy bear,” he said as the tinkling mechanical tune began. “Just wanna be your teddy bear.”

  “Elvis again?” I asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Paula said proudly. “I was always a huge Elvis fan. I was at his last concert here in Savannah, February 1977, right here at the Civic Center, last one he gave here before he died.”

  “I like Elvis too,” I said. “Always have.”

  “Danny here was named for a character Elvis played in a movie. Did you know that, son?”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No sir. You were named for the boy in King Creole. Best movie he ever made.”

  “I love that!” I said gleefully.

  “Nobody calls me Danny anymore,” he said accusingly.

  “I do. Sometimes,” I said.

  “You’re a gal who appreciates the good things,” Paula said approvingly. “Like that pin.”

  I touched the Christmas tree brooch. “It’s not…the same one, is it? The one your boys gave you?”

  “See for yourself,” she said, reaching into the pocket of her worn brown slacks. She held her hand out, palm open for us to see. In it was another blue Christmas tree pin. Not exactly the same as mine, but close.

  “That was the real reason I went back to Jacksonville,” Paula said. “To see if I could find that pin. When I did, I started to think. What could happen if I came back to Savannah? Could I make a difference to my boys?”

  We both looked expectantly at Daniel.

  “He hates Christmas,” I told Paula. “That’s how I got the idea for the Blue Christmas theme for the antiques shop.”

  Daniel shook his head. “She probably hates it too. Seems like everything bad always happens around the holidays.”

  “Not everything,” Paula said. “Sometimes good things happen. Sometimes, if you work at it, you can find what you lost at Christmas.”

  I heard a faint scratching from the front door.

  “The cops again?” Daniel said.

  When I opened the front door to investigate, I was assaulted by a blast of freezing air and a small, wet bundle of black fur that shot inside the door.

  At the same time, Jethro, who’d been asleep under the coffee table, raised his snout, took one look, and leaped to his feet.

  “What the hell?” Daniel said as the black dog raced past him into the kitchen, followed by Jethro.

  “That’s Ruthie,” I said, peeking into the kitchen, where the two dogs were crouched side by side over Jethro’s food bowl. “She belongs to Manny and Cookie. You know, the guys across the square who own Babalu. She must have gotten loose. I guess I better take her home. She’s their little princess. They’ll probably assume she’s been dognapped.”

  “Stray dogs and bag ladies,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “The joys of living downtown.”

  “I am not a bag lady,” Paula said indignantly. She picked up her gift and buttoned the cardigan she’d been wearing under the letter sweater. “I’ll be glad to take Ruthie home,” she volunteered. “I know right where she lives.”

  “What about later, Paula?” I asked. “Where will you stay tonight?”

  She shrugged. “Not at the Salvation, thanks to that cop who hauled me in here. They lock the doors at eleven sharp. Nobody gets in after that. But don’t worry about me. I’ll find a place. I always do.”

  I shot Daniel a helpless look.

  “You can’t sleep on the streets,” he said gruffly. “It’s freezing out there. And from the looks of that dog, it’s starting to rain too. Come on. I’ll drop you at a motel.”

  “I can’t.”

  “It’s on me,” Daniel said. “Christmas present.”

  Just then the doorbell rang. The three of us turned to stare at it.

  “Now what?” Daniel muttered.

  CHAPTER 23

  This time my guests were human.

  Manny and Cookie, dressed in soaking-wet formal wear, stood huddled together on my doorstep, rain streaking down their faces.

  “Ruthie’s gone,” Manny blurted. “We just got back from candlelight services at the Cathedral. I don’t know how she got out—”

  “She’ll freeze to death,” Cookie cut in. “She’s not used to being out without a jacket—”

  “We had a workman in, dealing with the hot water heater, and he must have left the back gate open,” Manny said. “We don’t know how long she’s been out—”

  “She’s here,” I said quickly. “In the kitchen, sharing Jethro’s dinner.”

  “Thank God,” Cookie exclaimed.

  I led them into the kitchen, where Jethro and Ruthie were curled up asleep on Jethro’s bed, snout to snout.

  “My precious!” Manny whispered, tugging at Cookie’s sleeve. “Would you look at this? Did you ever?”

  “Does this remind you of—”

  “Lady and the Tramp!” Manny said. “Forbidden love. And yet—”

  “They’re very sweet together,” Cookie concluded. “I don’t even have the heart to wake her up and take her home, she’s so warm and cozy.”

  “She can stay tonight,” I offered. “I’ll bring her home in the morning.”

  “What do you think?” Manny asked his partner.

  Cookie shrugged. “What’s one night? All right. She’s already knocked
up. So she can stay. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, hesitating a moment. “Look. I was just making some coffee. And we’ve got all this pie left from dinner. Would you like to join us?”

  Cookie nudged Manny. “Tell her,” he whispered.

  “Tell me what?”

  “We’re sorry,” Manny said, twisting the tasseled ends of the white silk scarf tossed casually around his neck. “We haven’t been very good neighbors to you. And now that we’re practically in-laws, well, we’d like to start over. We got all off on the wrong foot, and acted like pissy little queens. And that is so not who we are.”

  I blushed. “I haven’t been very friendly either. The two of you are so creative and talented, I guess I felt threatened by your success with Babalu.”

  “Us, creative?” Cookie hooted. “Sweetie, lamb, when we saw that Blue Christmas display of yours, we were just knocked for a loop. We have never—”

  “—seen anything as fabulous!” Manny said with a giggle. “Are you sure you’re straight?”

  “Positive,” Daniel said, walking into the kitchen. “She’s definitely straight. I can vouch for that.” He leaned down and scratched Ruthie’s ear, and she wagged her tail in bliss.

  “Daniel,” I said, “these are my neighbors. Cookie and Manny.”

  “Friends,” Cookie corrected. “We’re your friends.”

  “And in-laws,” Manny added.

  “The boys were just going to join us for some coffee and dessert,” I said.

  “Great,” Daniel said.

  “So I’ll just go drop Paula off at a motel and be right back.”

  “No motel,” I said. “It’s Christmas Eve. She stays here tonight.”

  “May I speak with you in the other room?” Daniel said, his voice tense.

  “Your mother is in the other room,” I reminded him. “Do you want her to hear us fussing about where she’s staying?”

  “That’s your mom?” Cookie asked.

  “What about it?” Daniel snapped. “Not that it’s any of your business, but she left my brothers and me when we were kids. We were raised by an aunt. Now she waltzes back into town and expects me to feel all warm and fuzzy.”