by JB Penrose
“Hello, Peter. Any trouble finding me?” She checked the soil of a flowering gardenia bush before forcing her feet to move.
“No trouble at all. I hope I’m not too early.” He unbuttoned his coat. “You have these plants fooled into another season. Are you using hydroponics on that wall?”
“Yes, I’m experimenting with a new mineral rinse. Everything in here is an experiment of some sort.”
“A very successful one,” Peter noted. “You look divine, I must say.”
“Thank you.” She’d chosen a much shorter hemline tonight. “Well, shall we go?”
He slipped the leather trenchcoat over her shoulders and handed her a scarf and gloves. “You’ll need these,” he told her.
The snow sleigh at the curb looked like it came from a fairy tale, trimmed in red velvet and golden detail, and pulled by a pair of snow-white horses. They stamped their hooves and shook their heads in greeting to jingle bells tied to the reins.
“Where did this come from?” Rachel’s heart skipped a beat with excitement.
“You know John. He doesn’t do anything small. If you don’t want to be exposed to the weather, we can call for a limousine.”
“No! I love it!” Rachel was already curbside. “What beautiful animals! I can tell they’ve been together a long time.” Rachel stroked the mare’s forelock. “She’s blind!
“Yes ma’am. Since birth,” the driver smiled. “But Ole George, there, he takes good care of Gracie.”
She gave each of the horses an affectionate scruff between the eyes.
“My name is Lanier, ma’am, and Mr. Reider and Mr. Pierzon, both, said to tell you Merry Christmas.” He lavished his southern accent upon each word, and Rachel smiled. He ceremoniously lowered the boarding steps from the sleigh then backed away for Peter to help her into the heated bench seating.
Peter draped a woolen coverlet around her shoulders and covered their feet and legs with additional quilts. A partial bonnet behind the driver blocked any snow that might drift their way. Rachel knew her smile was frozen on her face.
Peter slipped a latch on the opposite seat and opened a cabinet packed with unimaginable detail for a picnic. He started with a bottle of brandy and two crystal snifters.
“Compliments of Brother Andrew.” He poured equal amounts.
The horses started off so smoothly Rachel barely noticed the movement. “I don’t know who to toast first.” She laughed and accepted the glass. “Here’s to our most gracious hosts: May they bring Christmas spirit wherever they are.”
“Here! Here!” Peter added quietly. “I won’t say that I’ll miss the distraction of driving,” he told her. “You really do look - smashing comes to mind.”
“In that case, I’m glad you’re not driving.” Rachel knew she blushed like a schoolgirl, again. The brandy warmed her as she swallowed. Not that the liquor calmed her nerves, but it slowed her heartbeat to normal.
“We’re not due at Simon’s until nine o’clock. I thought you’d like to see the Trail of Lights.”
“Oh, yes. I love Christmas.” She took another sip as she nodded her approval. The brandy had already given her false courage. “And I love the lights.”
“Christmas is my favorite holiday, too.” He shuffled in his seat and reached inside a coat pocket. “I hope you don’t mind. I got you a little something.”
“Peter!”
“Just a little something,” he assured her.
She discovered a hardbound book under the wrapping, and her fingers traced the initials R.B. embossed in gold on the cover. Inside, the pages were blank.
“I remember how you love books,” he told her. “Especially the old-fashioned kind.”
“Why, thank you Peter.” She was unprepared for the spark between them when her lips brushed his cheek. “But I didn’t get you anything.”
“That’s not what Christmas is about.”
They spent the rest of the drive picking out their favorite decorations: the great tree at the Capital, the Nativity scene in New Columbia Park, or the lights on the waterside around the Washington monument. The mini-state, becoming New Columbia after a referendum changing Washington D.C. to statehood, worked diligently to preserve the nation’s capital grounds.
There was plenty to see in the holiday spirit and the evening weather cooperated completely. The DayStar held fixed in the sky as the moon rolled toward it; the beacon seemed brighter to Rachel, and she pretended not to notice. It was just another reminder of Peter’s departure.
“I want to show you something special,” Peter told her. He called out to Lanier who nodded and took the next turn. After a few blocks the pavement changed to dirt under the snow. The sign identified the entrance as “Dalyn Children’s Home”, but she’d never heard of the orphanage. Lanier entered a code from memory and guided the horses through the gate. No building was visible from their off-road entrance.
The horses pulled the sleigh around a sharp turn with snow banked high on both sides. The trail led them across a cobblestone bridge that guided them over the frozen stream into a twinkling forest of flashing colors.
“I’ve seen lights before, but never like this.” Every branch of every tree had a string of lights on it.
“Watch for a moment. There’s a pattern,” Peter hinted. “Look, over there.”
Rachel saw it just as he spoke - the image of Santa and his pack jumping from tree to tree.
“I see it! The Santa.”
He squeezed her hand under the covers and smiled. “John does something like this for the kids every year.”
“This is wonderful! The full moon is a special touch,” Rachel added. “I always heard that wishes made under a full moon would come true.”
Before she knew to question the gleam in Peter’s eye he gently lifted her chin. Automatically, she closed her eyes. Rachel was barely conscious of anything but the beating of her heart and the smell of his sweet breath on her cheek.
“I’ve only got one wish at the moment,” Peter whispered before his lips found hers.
It was the kiss of a lifetime - just like she’d written the scene herself. The blood stopped flowing in her veins but her heart pounded hard enough to burst. His lips were strong and confident, yet tender and questioning. Rachel had no idea she fell so heavily into his arms until she broke away and tried to catch her breath. She wondered if her heart would ever recover.
“That was quite a wish,” she told him.
A light snow began to fall and they resettled themselves under the quilts. It was quieter now; they listened to the jingle of the bells in rhythm with the step of the horses. This was Christmas, Rachel reminded herself, a time of joy.
She was surprised at her disappointment when the horses stopped under the awning marked Simon’s. “Are we there already?”
“The evening has just begun,” Peter promised.
As Lanier opened the door on the carriage Rachel felt the intrusion mentally before the flash of a camera blinded her. When her vision cleared she saw guards moving away the photographer. Peter wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, and guided her quickly into the restaurant. “The press corp has been following everyone.”
The party was definitely in progress; she heard laughter and singing from an adjoining room. Peter maneuvered her under a mistletoe branch at the arch and nodded upward. “Tradition.”
In for a penny in for a pound, Rachel thought to herself. She rewarded him with a solid kiss. I might have to start writing romances.
“Peter! And Rachel! Merry Christmas.” Teddy greeted them with hugs. “I was almost worried when you were late, Peter. I know how you are about parties.”
“We did a little sightseeing first.”
“Then I hope you took her by Mags’. John outdid himself this year.” Teddy passed their coats to an assistant. “You look divine, my dear. It’s nice to see you again.”
“I’ve been looking forward to it.”
�
��Go on in,” Teddy gestured toward the dining room. “Simon is already at the piano.”
At the front of the room was a large ice carving of Mary and Joseph at the manger, and a soft light glowed from inside the infant’s cradle. On the walls she recognized an eclectic collection of Kerroon paintings, elegantly displayed on the rich oak paneling. In the center, Simon played an ebony grand on the small stage in the center of a large dining room. He smiled and nodded at seeing them but never broke the beat of the song, and the guests continued to sing. She waited as Peter strolled to the piano. He nodded to Simon, then pulled another small gift from inside his jacket and left it with others she saw lying there.
Tables filled with guests lined three sides of the room. The staff not only kept their water and wine glasses filled, but harmonized with the singing as well. It was a festive group. Peter started at the first table and they began their hellos and introductions to everyone in the room.
“Peter, you look dashing, as always.” The elder-aged woman stopped singing and planted a ruby-lipstick kiss on his cheek. “We’ve missed you these last years.”
“Thank you, Kiera. May I introduce Rachel Bolton?” Peter introduced her. “Madame Kiera is the ambassador from New Canaan.”
“Nice to meet you, dear.” She smiled and offered her hand to Rachel. “You’ve done some fine work for Nathan Young.” The ambassador shook her hand warmly before her attention returned to Peter. “It’s certainly not the same this year without your brother, and John. I wish you all, much success.”
“Thank you, Kiera,” Peter tightened his arm around Rachel’s waist and pulled her away. “I’m sure they’ll have it,”
Rachel wished for the power to make time stop, even for a moment, but there was nothing she could do. The Aurora was an expedition that wouldn’t return to Earth in this lifetime. In six days, Peter would be just a dream. Rachel brought up her defenses; the drop in spirit was replaced with showmanship and she tried to remember it was Christmas.
Finally, their greetings were complete. The only two empty seats were at the last table, and when they were seated the music stopped after the song ended.
The applause became an ovation when tables were rolled out of the kitchen featuring meats and vegetables, with deserts trimmed with fruits and candies. It was a display of food that rivaled what she'd seen at John’s party.
After a moment of un-modest recognition, Simon and Teddy shared the credit with their staff. When Simon swirled his carving knife like a conductor’s baton, everyone quieted and sat down.
“We - the staff at Simon’s - would like to thank all of our friends for celebrating with us this year. We are grateful for your friendship, and your patronage. So, everyone enjoy yourself, and don’t worry if you can’t eat everything,” Simon told them. “We’ll send each of you home with a basket of your favorites. Now, come ‘n get it!”
Instantly, the chairs began to scoot away from the tables.
“Let’s get busy,” Peter steered her toward the forming line. “I also brought an appetite."
They sampled every kind of dish and seemed to make a dozen trips to the buffet. Dinner moved slow and easy. Their glasses were never empty and any dirty dish was instantly whisked away. As some of the guests finished they wandered to the piano or other instruments available and entertained with a song or two. Rachel recognized senators as well as songwriters on the stage; everyone seemed at ease. When the last dish was cleared, Simon joined the musicians on stage and signaled for a drumroll. Everyone went silent with anticipation.
“We all have different ways to celebrate this holiday season,” Simon began. He sat on a simple wooden stool and the room dimmed to a single spotlight. “But no one can deny Christmas celebrates the birth of the greatest man who ever lived.”
As he started his story she knew he read from the Gospels of St. Luke, although he rarely referred to the Bible he held in his hands. Simon finished the recitation with a prayer for protection of “all God’s children” and the room remained quiet after pronouncing their own “Amen”.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Teddy’s voice boomed from the kitchen and broke the silence.
“Attention everyone! Listen!” Simon clapped his hands and urged the audience to participate. Spoons tapped on kitchen counters to imitate hoof-beats. “Listen, I think Santa is finally arriving.”
Rachel squeezed Peter's arm with anticipation as the lights changed to colors around the room.
“Merrrrrry Christmas.” Dressed as Santa, Teddy danced into the room with his red burlap bag, making a big show of the fact it was empty. “Have you all been good boys and girls?”
“Yes!” The guests responded enthusiastically.
At the piano, Santa swept the gifts into the bag and closed it tightly. Comically, he peered around the room. “Alright. But first, you must tell Santa what you wish for.” He carried his bag to the first table. The man stood and nodded to those in the room.
“I wish for the good health of all our brothers and sisters,” he told them. Everyone cheered in agreement.
“Thank you, Dr. Lohman. I think we can appreciate that.” Teddy reached into the bag and pulled out a small gift. Without waiting for him to unwrap it, he went on to the next guest. She stood.
“I wish the holiday cheer would last every day of the year.” Again, everyone applauded and Teddy reached into his bag for her gift. Moving around the table, each of the guests stated a Christmas wish to Santa and received their present.
“I wish the generosity of the world to go toward strangers as well,” Cardinal Jackson declared when it was his turn.
“Well then, let’s see what Santa has for you. Oh, sorry,” he pretended, handing him a check. “It’s just a piece of paper.”
Cardinal Jackson read the amount on the check and sat back in his chair, breathless. “This will accomplish much.”
Santa moved on.
When Santa approached Peter he stood like a schoolboy, smiling, with his hands behind his back. “I always wish for world peace.” He sat after receiving a small gift, and Rachel rose, shyly, the last person in the room.
“I wish to brighten our children’s future,” she said without preparation. Teddy smiled, and reached into his bag. Slapping around the empty sides he even turned it over and shook it upside-down.
Empty.
The guests’ laughter increased her embarrassment, but Teddy continued with his antics. He rolled up the edges and looked inside again, shaking it inside out. Finally, he held the bag open for Rachel. She reached inside and her fingertips immediately found a small box. Holding up the proof, she sat as quickly as she could, deaf to the applause.
“Go ahead,” Peter urged. “Open it.”
Her hands fumbled with the wrapping, but when she lifted the lid her heart skipped a beat. A simple silver cross and chain lay in the cotton. It had been rubbed smooth over many years.
“It’s too beautiful. How can I keep this?”
He took it from her hands and lifted it over her head. Instantly she felt a new confidence.
“Giving is what Christmas is all about,” he told her. “And that means someone has to receive.”
She breathed a sigh of release that surprised her; it was as though she’d found something long lost. “Let’s see your gift.” She tried to contain her nervous excitement. “What did you get?”
Peter’s box was long and slender. Inside was a beautiful set of artist’s pens and tips.
“How does everyone get the right gift? This is perfect for you.”
“It’s a bit of magic.” Peter winked with his smile, but she couldn’t help but believe him.
“And for myself,” Teddy announced from the center of the room, “my wish is that no one gets sick from my cooking!”
The laughter was a denial that it was even possible for it to happen, but Rachel still wondered at the way the perfect gift found its perfect recipient. Everyone’s wish had been granted tonight.
“Again,” Simon stilled the crowd with a
gesture. “We thank you for coming. However, now, as the saying goes, It’s time for the last dance. If I could get a little help from my friends.”
The impromptu band tuned for a moment then began with a flourish.
“Last Dance?” Peter complained. “They mean the only one. So,” he stood, and bowed deeply, “may I have this dance?”
“Of course.” She hoped for a long song.
His arm fit perfectly around her waist and she was content to rest her head on his shoulder. Part of her wished this evening would never end, and part of her was scared it even started. Long before she was ready the music stopped and reluctantly she stepped away from Peter’s embrace.
As they had been told, a hospitality basket was at their table when they returned.
“No peeking until you’re home,” Peter said. “Tradition.”
The good-byes began and people mingled around the room, but Cardinal Jackson headed straight for them.
“Peter, the joy in your heart shines on your face.” The Cardinal addressed him in Latin.
“The Lord hath seen fit to introduce me to his glory,” Peter answered, also in Latin. Both men glanced at Rachel and smiled.
“The Lord’s glory is surely more splendid than my own,” Rachel commented - and to the surprise of Peter and his friend, in perfect Latin.
“I speak only of the glory I see. The glory that you spread to those around you.” The Cardinal bowed to Rachel, slightly embarrassed, and then addressed her in English. “Excuse me, please.”
“Where did you learn Latin?” Peter wanted to know. “I’m impressed.”
“As am I,” the Cardinal said. “I should never have presumed to speak of you like that. It’s only that I’ve known Peter for so long, and you’re the first guest he’s ever brought.”
