The Homecoming
Page 8
Now he rose and the children watched with delight as he crossed the floor to Olivia. He kissed her tenderly on the cheek, but then, and this was what the children were waiting for, he picked her up and danced about the kitchen shouting joyously. “God, what a woman I married!” while Olivia shouted indignantly, “Put me down, you old fool!”
Finally he placed her back on the floor. Olivia adjusted her clothing with mock annoyance and demanded, “Where in the world have you been?”
“I missed the last bus out of Charlottesville, so I hitchhiked to Hickory Creek. From there it was every blessed step of the way on foot.”
“Well, you must be nearly frozen. I’ve been keepen coffee warm.” Olivia went to get cup and saucer, and poured the coffee. Clay took his seat at the head of the kitchen table and grinned as he saw the children casting appraising glances at the packages.
“What’s in them bundles, Daddy?” asked Luke.
“Beats the tar out of me,” replied Clay.
“Where’d they come from?” asked Shirley.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Clay, lowering his voice confidentially. “I was comen up the walk there a minute ago, knowen you kids were asleep, I tried not to make any noise. All of a sudden somethen come flyen across the sky and landed right on top of the house.”
“We heard it!” cried Mark and John.
“Well, I looked up and there was a team of some kind of animals about the size of a year-old calf. Somethen kind of pointy on the heads.”
“Reindeer,” supplied Pattie-Cake.
“I never saw one, but that’s what it was all right. Well, it land of stopped me in my tracks, and I just stood there watchen. First thing I see, this old son-of-a-gun jumped out, all dressed up in black boots and a red suit trimmed with white fur.”
“Santa Claus!” whispered John.
“Well, I never laid eyes on the old poot before. Didn’t know who he was. I just thought it was somebody tryen to break into the house, so I picked up the biggest rock I could find, and…”
Horror stared back at him. “You hit him with a rock!”
“Not exactly, but I scared him so that the sleigh started slippen off the roof and landed right out there in the backyard. The old man in the red suit started cracken the whip and called for them reindeer to take off, but I caught up with him just before that sleigh left the ground.”
“You talked to him?” asked Pattie-Cake wonderingly.
“No, but I wrassled him, and just before he got away I grabbed a big armful of stuff from the sleigh and there it is right on the table.”
“You see!” said Pattie-Cake victoriously to Becky. “He’s real!”
“You’re right, honey,” nodded Becky with a smile. “You’re double-durned right.”
“Which one is mine?” asked Pattie-Cake, touching the packages shyly.
“Try that one,” said Clay, pointing to a package. “And this one’s for you, and this one’s for you,” he said until all the bundles had been passed out, except one which stood alone.
Cries and shrieks of joy filled the room as Pattie-Cake removed a brand new golden-haired doll which cried and opened and closed its eyes. Becky and Shirley were holding up brand new dresses, and each of the children uncovered treasure after treasure as they went deeper and deeper into their packages: monkeys that magically climbed up strings, teddy bears with soft fur and button noses, jumping jacks which performed virtuoso acrobatics, jack-knives with so many blades that when they opened they resembled a Chinese fan, bouncing balls that jingled, banks in the form of mules which kicked when a penny was inserted, cookie cutters and tea sets, catcher’s mitts and footballs, balloons and whistles and spinning tops, and firecrackers and warm socks, and boxes of puzzles and oranges and nuts and candies and still the bottoms of the bags were not yet reached.
“Open yours, son,” said Clay to Clay-Boy, who held his package in his arms while he watched his brothers and sisters exclaim with breathless astonishment as they discovered each new treasure.
Self-consciously Clay-Boy tore the wrapper open and he looked at his father with confusion and gratitude and questioning eyes as he found five tablets of good writing paper and a brand new fountain pen.
“I wonder how news got all the way to the North Pole that you wanted to be a writer,” said Clay with a grin.
“I guess he’s a right smart man,” said Clay-Boy, his throat almost too full to speak.
“This one must be for you,” said Clay to Olivia, pointing to the one package still remaining on the table.
“What in the world could it be?”
“You been wishen for springtime,” said Clay, and placed the package in her hands.
“Oh, Clay,” cried Olivia and gazed down at a flower pot containing three hyacinths, one blue, one white, and one rose and all in full bloom.
Pattie-Cake, cradling her doll in her arms, suddenly became aware of something which saddened her, and her lips quivered.
“You didn’t get nothen, Daddy,” she said. Gently Clay lifted the little girl in his arms and looked around the room at his family.
“Sweetheart,” he said, “I’ve got Christmas every day of my life in you kids and your mama.” He turned to Olivia. “Did you ever see such thoroughbreds?”
“I see some sleepy children,” said Olivia. “Off to bed now. You can play in the mornen.”
“Can’t I shoot just one firecracker, Mama?” pleaded Matt.
Olivia considered, but then she smiled and unexpectedly answered “Yes.” It’ll wake everybody within ten miles, she thought, but she didn’t care. Let the world know that Clay Spencer was home.
As the children filed out onto the back porch to watch Matt light the firecracker, Olivia came and sat across from Clay. She looked at him, and then at the hyacinths, and reproach would not come.
“You must have spent every cent of the paycheck,” she said. She tried to sound cross but somehow she didn’t succeed.
“Just about,” he admitted cheerfully.
“What are we goen to live on this comen week?” she asked.
“Love, woman,” he said, and this time he did not seize her in his arms and waltz madly about the room, but kissed her gently and took her hand in his.
“BOOM!” went the five-inch firecracker, and “boom” it resounded across the hills, falling away into the distance like thunder. Now the children came running into the house, their faces alight with the excitement of it all.
“Bed time,” said their father, and with only a few objections the children marched upstairs and pulled the covers once more over their heads.
But nobody went to sleep.
They waited until they heard the familiar sounds of lights being turned off down stairs, the passage of their mother and father down the hall to their bedroom, and the click of the light being switched off.
From the girls’ room Becky called, “Good night, Luke,” and Luke answered, “Good night, Becky; good night, Pattie-Cake.” And Pattie-Cake called, “Good night, Luke; good night, Mama.”
And Olivia answered, “Good night, Pattie-Cake; good night, Shirley.” Other voices joined in a round song of good nights until all the people in the house had said so many good nights that they could not remember whom they had said good night to and whom they had not. To keep the whole good-night chorus from starting all over again, Clay called “Good night, everybody, and Merry Christmas!” and gave a long sleepy yawn, which was the signal that everyone had been bidden a proper good night. The house fell silent and they slept.
Around the house the world lay bright as day. The moon blazed down its cold light on an earth that was touched with magic. An ancient wind sighed along the ridges of crusted snow. Angels sang, and the stars danced in the sky.
OLIVIA’S APPLESAUCE CAKE
1
cup of butter
1
cup sugar
2
cups applesauce
2
cups light raisins
1
/>
cup chopped walnuts
1
teaspoon baking soda
3½
cups flour (sifted)
2
eggs
1
teaspoon cinnamon
2
teaspoons cloves
2
teaspoons nutmeg
Pinch of salt
Sift together: Flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg. Take ½ cup of flour mixture and stir into the nuts and raisins. Set both aside. Cream butter until whipped soft. Add sugar a little at a time until mixture is smooth. Beat in eggs vigorously. Alternately stir in flour mixture and applesauce. When all mixed together add nuts and raisins and mix well. Pour batter into a well-greased cake mold. Bake in preheated oven at 350° for one hour. Cool ten minutes, then turn out on cake rack. Frost with Whiskey Frosting when cake is cool.
JANE’S WHISKEY FROSTING
¼
cup butter
1
tablespoon cream
2
cups powdered sugar
2
tablespoons whiskey (bourbon)
Pinch of salt
Cream butter, add sugar and salt, then cream and whiskey. Whip until smooth. Frost cake. Decorate with a sprig of holly.