Season's Greetings: A Carol Christmas

by Tigger
© 2000, all rights reserved

 

The End of It:

The sun had yet to rise when Marie slipped down from her third floor apartment to begin fixing her special Christmas morning breakfast. Given Carol's imminent departure, and moreover, the reasons for her being sent away, this would not be the most joyous of holidays, but Marie was still determined that the traditions would still be followed.

As she entered the dining room, her sensitive nose caught the first whiff of "Coffee?" *Blast it!* she thought sadly. *It must be Jane. Obviously she couldn't sleep because she's fretting about Carol, too.*

Only it wasn't Jane, Marie soon discovered, it was Carol and she working some type of dough in a bowl. "What are you doing, child?" Marie asked, her eyes blinking hard against the sudden glare of the brightly lighted kitchen.

"Cookies!" the skillfully made up young person said happily. "It's Christmas Morning and I decided we needed Christmas cookies." Then, seeing the look of shock on Marie's face, the pleasure fled from the bright eyes.

It had been a long, painfully-reflective night for young Carl. The dream had indeed been a catalyst for the retrieval of memories long suppressed. In the harsh light of those mental images, his behavior over the past years had shamed him deeply. He'd been forced to acknowledge that he'd been a thorough-going bastard, that he HAD been his father all over again, and that recognition shamed him and humiliated him as nothing Jane Thompson had done with him ever could do. Obviously, he could not possibly keep his promise to his dream Mother and to himself without some significant changes.

Only problem with that decision, Carl had concluded at about four thirty, was that he didn't know how to be any different. That was when another of his dream-Mother's words had come back to him. "If you get your act together and listen to Ms. Thompson, that is."

That was the solution, he'd decided. Well, he'd learned the easy lessons already - it was the hard ones he'd resisted by his ridicule and sarcasm. Now, he... no, *she* was determined to become the best student Jane Thompson had ever taught. And since she'd gone a long way towards messing up everyone's Christmas, she'd figured the first place to start making amends was by trying to restore some of the cheer her abominable behavior had cost Jane Thompson's family. *But from the look on Marie's face, it appears I have overstepped myself. DARN!* "Umm...I guess I should have asked, first. I'm sorry about the mess, though. I will clean it up right away!"

Marie had been around Jane's boys for almost twenty years, and she knew something had changed with this one. Whether this marked the bare beginning of the long prayed for breakthrough, she didn't know, but it probably wouldn't hurt to indulge the child and see what came of it. Besides, Marie had a secret sweet tooth. "No... no, child. Keep on as you were going. You're right. We didn't make cookies this year. Have you found my special holiday cookie cutters? No? Okay, let's see."

Soon, the French Canadian woman and the girlishly pretty boy were working side by side, turning out dozens of brightly colored sugar cookie Christmas trees, snowmen, Santas and angels. As the last batch went into the oven, Carol (for that is definitely how Marie was thinking of her), asked Marie if she could make a call home, to her uncle.

*I guess there is very little purpose to keeping her incommunicado now that Jane has already decided to send her back home in two days,* Marie decided. "Use my phone, dear," she offered as she unlocked her kitchen phone. Determined not to eavesdrop, all she heard as she slipped from the kitchen was "Hi, Uncle John, it's me, Carol... I mean, Carl. Yes, I know it is very early, but I was wondering if you could help..."

~-~

At seven o'clock, Jane came down to find a Carol she'd never seen before. The outfit was bright - a red corduroy jumper over a green silk blouse - but the girl had long had the skill to dress and present herself beautifully when it suited her own purposes. No, it was her demeanor that was new - that and her attention to details that had previously been ignored.

For one thing, her hair was done in a very complex array of curls that required several barrettes (nicely color-coordinated ones, Jane noted) to hold in place. The arrangement was actually more suited to an evening gown than her current sassy little outfit, but it represented the first time the young person had ever made such an effort on her own. She had even tried accessorizing, although the fine gold chain bracelets and the necklace of tiny pearls she'd chosen were overwhelmed by the bright holiday outfit. Still, she had tried, and done fairly well. She actually looked about as demure and as ladylike as any student making their first independent dressing. Suspicious, Jane warily asked, "Yes, Carl? What do you want?"

Carol swallowed hard, and forced herself to make eye contact with the stern-faced teacher. He... no, make that *she* had used every trick *she* had learned in her tenure in Seasons House getting ready for this moment. *I don't know how to look more girlish than I do right now,* he... *she* thought even as she fought the urge to run and hide. Only her dream-Mother's words and her own promise gave her the courage to stand up under that cold stare. *Think girl,* she told herself sternly. "I was wondering, Ms. Thompson, that is, I wanted to ask you, do you think we could go to church?"

Stunned, Jane was momentarily speechless but finally managed a "Church?"

The shy smile that lit the perfectly and appropriately made up face was nearly as surprising as the request for church. "Yes, Ma'am. One with music if that is possible, please."

"With music," Jane repeated, feeling very much like someone had just pushed her through Alice's rabbit hole. *Okay, who are you and what have you done with Carl Morris?* she thought.

"Yes, Ma'am. Please?"

*I have no idea what he is up to now, but since I was going to attend services anyway...* "All right, Carl, you may go to church with Darla and me, but let me warn you. Any disruptions, any acting out and I will call Deputy Beale. I think you can be very sure precisely how little he will enjoy having to deal with you when he'd rather be with his family on Christmas morning."

"Oh, thank you, Ms. Jane!" the changeling cheered. "I am very grateful." She turned to head out of the room, but stopped and looked back to Jane, but this time was unable to hold eye contact. Her eyes fell to her own toes, and she literally wrung her hands before managing to rasp out emotionally, "Oh, and even though I have that inheritance coming, Ms. Jane? Darla did tell you about that, didn't she?" Carol looked up in time to see Jane's sharp nod, then continued. "Anyway, I'd like to stay - here with you and Marie and Darla - until you think I am ready to go out on my own. I know you expected to be rid of me, but I promise to really do my best from now on. My word of honor."

"Stay? Here?" Jane eased down into a nearby chair. "Ummm... we'll... well, we'll discuss it. Later. After church."

"Great. Thank you again, Ms. Jane. I'm going to go get ready for church."

Instinct took over, and Jane-the-teacher momentarily reasserted herself. "Excellent notion. Change into something more appropriate for church, please. We leave in forty minutes." *Let's see how she handles that direction, now.* "Okay, .. I mean, Yes, Ma'am. And thanks again," Carol told her just before turning toward the foyer. Still reeling, Jane stood back up and watched as her 'failure' dashed up the stairs.

When she came back to herself, Jane turned to find a grinning Marie standing next to her, a plate in her hand. "Christmas cookie, Jane? Carol made them this morning."

"They don't say 'Eat me', do they?" Jane asked with a wry smile on her face. "Tell me, Marie. That was Carl, wasn't it? I mean, that girl who just was here talking to me? Beautifully dressed and for heavens sake, smiling?"

"One and the same, dear. I was surprised, too. I thought perhaps you and Donald might have talked to him last night."

"No, we didn't. I checked on him about midnight, and found him clutching one of his Mother's letters as he slept. You don't suppose they made the difference after all, do you? I really expected him to just say 'bah humbug' if I offered them to him and ignore them as he had ignored everything else we've done with him... her."

~-~

Jane had refrained from making any comment on Carol's 'Sunday-Go- To-Meeting' selection, but it had been difficult. Certainly, with any other junior student, she would have made at least one or two very pointed observations intended to make the be-skirted boy want to die of embarrassment. *It certainly wouldn't be difficult to find things with which to tease him just now, either,* Jane thought with a smile. Evidently, Carol (*Or was it Carl?* Jane mused) had decided that the appropriate ensemble for church strongly resembled the frilly, pink-on-white, overly- feminine outfit Darla had worn to the train station the day Carl arrived. Right down to the boxy little veiled hat, the fussy beaded purse and the opaque white stockings decorated with pink roses.

*So that is what he... she would look like as a big sister,* Jane thought as they went out to the car. *It really wasn't necessary for her to put on *two* petticoats with that dress. That sort of thing is really only for in-house practice. And I would not have insisted on quite so much heel when the pavement might be slick with ice, but she does look very nice. So, what happens next?*

Walking into the pretty little non-denominational church looking like Disney's Alice-in-Wonderland going to her First Communion had been the hardest thing Carol had done in a very long time, but she'd done it. Being Carol was, she had decided during the long hours of pointed self reflection before dawn, the first step in keeping the promise she'd made to her Mother... and to herself. When no one looked at her in shock and disgust, she relaxed a little. When the singing began, she relaxed totally and let the music take her away.

 

Said the night wind to the little lamb,

"Do you see what I see?

Way up in the sky, little lamb,

Do you see what I see?

A star, a star, dancing in the night..."

 

Jane, still off-balance from the morning's surprises, suddenly became aware of a slight catch in Carol's voice as she sang. Turning to look at her student, she was rocked yet again. Carol was crying - still singing - but crying at the same time. *This is the first time, since the moment Carl walked off that train, that I have seen this child in tears. Why???*

Maternal instincts that most junior students would swear were non-existent overwhelmed Jane, and she gently put her arm about the sobbing girl who buried her head into Jane's shoulder.

"Child," Jane whispered, "Whatever is the matter?"

"My... my mom...," Carol quietly choked out past the tears, "she...she loved that carol. How could I have forgotten that, Ms. Jane? What's wrong with me that I could forget something like that?!?"

"You remembered now," Jane replied gently even as she continued to wonder *Maybe I should call Bill Beale. I do have Carl's fingerprints somewhere. I think.*

~-~

Jane parked the Lincoln in front of Seasons House and joined the two girls on the walk. "Where did you learn to sing like that, Carol?" she asked as they walked up to the walk to the main entrance.

"My Mom sang with me when I was little, Ms. Jane. I had forgotten that and I had forgotten the pleasure of singing in the years since my Mom di...since my Mom's accident."

*That is the first time, in my experience, that Carol or Carl has referred to his Mother as 'Mom'.* "And you just remembered?"

Carol reached out an uncertain hand to squeeze Darla's shoulder gratefully. "Darla gave me my Mom's letters yesterday. They sort of jogged my memory for me... about a lot of things. And good old Darley also said something else that struck awfully close to home."

*Darley?!?* "May I ask what that was?"

"She asked me - not precisely in these words - why I was becoming the very thing I hated most in the world - my father. I wanted to tell her I wasn't, but after talking to Mr. Madden yesterday, and well, after seeing you with the little boy at the hospital, I realized that was exactly what I was doing."

Jane was still thinking about what to say or do next when Marie flung the door open waving a piece of paper like a flag before sweeping an unprepared Carol into a tight hug. "Carol! Your uncle sent you a fax. You did great, honey."

"What? Why would he send you a fax? Let me see that, Marie," Jane ordered.

Her eyes went wide, and then Jane began to read the document in her hands.

 

 

"From: The Office of the Honorable James McIntyre, Vice Chairman

of the Senate Armed Services Committee

 

To: Office of Legislative Affairs, Department of Defense

 

Please inform me at the earliest possible date of any reason that

the following personnel cannot be granted humanitarian leave

without loss of rank, seniority, or other benefits, in order to

be with their child who is undergoing radical, hopefully

lifesaving bone marrow surgery at Children's Hospital at

Providence, RI..."

 

Jane looked up to stare at a suddenly embarrassed Carol. "You asked your uncle to intervene for Allie's parents?" Carol could only nod. "Lord, why didn't I think of that? I'll call the hospital and tell them to have the parents call me. I will make sure they have tickets and a place to stay if the leave is awarded. Even if it isn't, thank you for trying, child."

"It wasn't anything difficult, Ms. Jane. My uncle did all the work, and as you say, it's not a done deal yet."

Jane leaned over and planted a firm kiss on Carol's blushing cheek. "You tried when you didn't have to try."

"I have important promises to keep, Ms. Jane." Carol said very seriously before turning to Marie. "Will you be bringing my lunch upstairs soon, Miss Marie? Singing makes me hungry."

"No, she will not, Carol," Jane said firmly. Carol stared at Jane, worry filling her eyes until Jane smiled gently. "It would give me great pleasure, Miss Morris, if you would accept my invitation to have Christmas dinner with my new daughter and me."

"New daughter?" Carol squealed, her eyes slewing to a broadly smiling Darla.

"Yes, my daughter. Darla's adoption papers came through yesterday."

"Way to go, Sis!" Carol cheered, and soundly thumped Darla on the back, nearly knocking the smaller girl over in the process. "Oops, sorry," she apologized, looking very abashed. "I am really happy for you, Darla, because one thing I did learn here is how much you love Ms. Jane."

"You know it," Darla smiled back, her eyes sparkling. "Momma- Jane is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Come on, you lot," Marie ordered. "I've got a light tea laid in the music room to tide you over until dinner."

"Good idea. I think it is time Carol started piano lessons anyway. Anyone who sings like you do, dear, should be able to accompany herself on a suitable instrument."

Tears Jane realized were liquid joy started to well again in her student's lovely dark eyes. "Oh, do you mean it, Ms. Jane? I... I really have wanted to learn. My mom was going to teach me, but she... she never got around to it."

"No time like the present, Miss. Now, come along. Oh, and Marie? If you'd call the travel agency to cancel those tickets for me? I don't think we'll be needing them. Not right now, in any case."

"Ms. Jane?" Carol asked, her voice hesitant.

"Yes, Carol?"

"Ummm, if you're going to be 'Momma Jane' to Darla, could I maybe call you 'Aunt Jane'? Please?"

The look of longing on the young person's face struck at Jane's hidden soft heart. Fighting for control, she managed what she hoped was a matter-of-fact smile. "Well, I did tell you that was an acceptable form of address your first day, did I not? You were the one who chose to call me Ms. Thompson or Ms. Jane, but in answer to your question, yes, you may call me Aunt Jane."

Carol's "Thank you," was barely audible. "Excuse me," she said suddenly, "I have to fix my face." and then fled for the powder room, leaving the three other women smiling behind her.

Jane watched as Darla and Carol chattered over their tea and cakes. *There's still a good deal of the old Carl in there,* she decided, *but for the first time, there is also really a Carol there, too. And the child is trying, really trying for the first time. A little too hard, of course, but they all go through that stage of trying to be perfect. She'll slip occasionally, and I will be able to use those missteps to begin the healing and rebuilding process. Oh, thank God, I *haven't* failed her! No, that's not quite right. WE haven't failed her.*

"Heavens," Carol said later, "But I feel like a combination of Tiny Tim and Ebenezer Scrooge."

"Oh?" Darla asked. "How so?"

"I want to say "God Bless Us, Everyone,", but then, I feel like He already has. Except he had Marley, and I have Darley."

"Could we lose the Darley-thing, please?" Darla asked sounding mightily put upon. "It sounds like the name of a yuppie beauty contestant with big hair, bigger... umm... teeth and a tiara, or worse, your favorite mongrel dog."

"Oh, if I must," Carol answered in the same tones.

Jane and Marie laughed with the two young people.

"Merry Christmas, Carol," Darla said softly. "Welcome to the family."

 

 

 

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© 2000 by Tigger. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.