Christmastime 1939 Page 3

  “No, everything is not all right, and never will be again!”

  Lillian waited for an explanation but soon realized that she was meant to ask about the bad news.

  “Is something wrong? Has something happened?” she asked, genuinely concerned, but at the same time hoping the explanation wouldn’t make her late for work.

  “What has happened, as you say, is that cousin Jedediah took sick in the night. And has expired.” Her head, in a very peahen-like manner, Lillian couldn’t help but think, pecked from her, to Tommy, to Gabriel, and back to her, empty beaked. “Passed!”

  Though Lillian’s brow was now creased, Mrs. Peabody jerked her head back at the paltry response to her tragic news.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry,” said Lillian. In the five months she had been taking the boys to Mrs. Peabody’s, Lillian had heard her speak – on numerous occasions – of troublesome neighbors, dishonest storekeepers, and difficult relatives. But she had never heard of cousin Jedediah.

  Tommy cocked his head up to the babysitter. “You mean he’s dead?”

  Mrs. Peabody gave a quick gasp. “Indeed, he is!”

  “Dead as a door-nail?” Gabriel asked. “Like Jacob Marley?”

  Mrs. Peabody’s mouth and eyes opened wide and her chest puffed up. She grabbed the doorway for support.

  Just as Lillian was about to explain, Tommy asked, “Or as dead as a coffin nail?” pleased that he, too, remembered the exact words from Dickens.

  “Oh, you wicked, wicked boys! I will not have cousin Jedediah’s memory sullied.” She sniffled and raised her apron to her nose. “Yes, he drank too much and never could hold down a job. And he never paid me back the $21.00 I gave him from my hard-earned savings. That was five years ago! The low-down, good-for-nothing rascal,” she muttered to herself. “But he was my cousin, all the same. And he’s gone! Not to be made light of by urchins like you.”

  “They don’t know what they’re saying.” Lillian mistakenly thought a small laugh would soften the situation. “You see, I was reading A Christmas Carol to them last night and – ”

  “What do I care what you’re reading!” cried Mrs. Peabody. “Cousin Jedediah is dead, and this is going to be a terrible, terrible Christmas. Worse than usual.”

  Tommy and Gabriel exchanged a glance. “Bah!” Tommy said in a low voice.

  “Humbug!” Gabriel added.

  “Well!” Mrs. Peabody folded her arms across her smudgy apron. “For my part, I have never come across such disrespectful creatures in all my life! Making a joke of cousin Jedediah’s departure.” She lifted her apron to her dry eyes, leaving a smear of butter on her glasses. She pecked her head back and then forward to determine why her vision had suddenly blurred, causing her to look cross-eyed at her lenses.

  Tommy and Gabriel used both hands to cover their mouths, but their laughter still wriggled out.

  “I will not put up with this. Off with you!” Mrs. Peabody dropped her apron and used it to shoo the boys away. She planted her hands on her hips. “And you, Miss Happy-All-the-Time Hapsey, can just find yourself another sitter!” She slammed the door in their faces.

  “Good!” said Tommy. “She’s always crabby and I hate her.”

  “Me too,” echoed Gabriel. “She smells like cabbage!”

  “Shh!” Lillian said sharply, waiting to see if the door would reopen. When it didn’t she bit her lip, and headed down the stairs. “Let’s go.”

  Tommy tossed an angry glare over his shoulder, and cried “Bah humbug!” as a parting good-riddance remark.

  Gabriel scowled at the closed door, fists on his hips. “Yeah! Bah humbug bah humbug bah humbug!” He then hurried down the stairs in case the door should suddenly open. Tommy burst into laughter and tried to overtake him.

  “Tommy! Gabriel! Behave yourselves! What’s gotten into you two?” She turned to them with a flash of anger and continued down the stairs as they ran past her. “You know better than to mock someone about a death.”

  When she reached the first floor, she opened the vestibule door and fixed the boys with a look of reprimand. They fell silent, their small faces filled with a mix of guilt and justification. Lillian walked ahead of them on the sidewalk, furious at the way the morning was turning out.

  She stopped suddenly, causing Tommy and Gabriel to bump into her. They all looked at each other in a Now What? moment.

  She took their hands and began walking briskly back home. She knew that her emergency babysitter, the elderly Mrs. Crawford on the first floor, was with her sister for a few days. And the Sisley sisters had to be scheduled at least a week in advance – if there was one thing that flustered them it was a last-minute request. She closed her eyes, and let out a soft groan at the telephone call she would have to make. This was just the sort of thing Mr. Hinkley would use against her.

  She stepped into a café, positioned the boys near the telephone booth, and held up her finger to them in warning.

  “Not a word out of either of you!”

  She entered the booth and closed the door behind her. Then she took a coin from her purse, gathered her thoughts, and placed the call to Mr. Hinkley. Her voice was full of apology as she explained that she would not be in to work today.

  “Yes, I know I just returned from vacation, but the babysitter canceled…Yes, I understand it’s the Christmas season.” She held out the receiver, indignant at the volley of criticism pouring out of it. “I can make up the day, any day, just say when.” She nodded, trying to get a word in. “I – yes – I realize that, Mr. Hinkley, and I’m sorry. But – ” A loud click cut her short.

  She stared at the receiver, and placed it back on the hook. She stared down at the floor, a sense of defeat beginning to overwhelm her. Then her temper shot up. “I’ll find another job if it comes to that,” she said aloud, exiting the telephone booth.

  Tommy started to crack his knuckles. “What’d he say?”

  “I’ve been warned. One more time, and I’m fired.”

  “Sorry, Mommy,” said Tommy.

  Gabriel directed his anger at the phone booth. “Bah Humbug!” he yelled, and kicked it for good measure.

  Lillian took his arm. “That’s enough, Gabriel! Let’s go home.”

  Outside, she glanced up at the sky that had grown darker, threatening rain. She picked up her pace.

  They walked in silence for two blocks, Lillian’s mind on a list of things that must be done immediately – a new babysitter, more sewing from Mrs. Harrison, and, possibly, a new job.

  She stopped to buy a newspaper to scan the help wanted ads. When they passed the German bakery, Tommy and Gabriel broke free to look wide-eyed at the freshly baked cupcakes being set in the window.

  “Look, Tommy! Cupcakes with Christmas trees!” cried Gabriel.

  Tommy and Gabriel watched as the baker’s wife set a platter of cupcakes in the widow – the swirled buttercream frosting was decorated with green sugared Christmas trees dotted with red.

  The baker’s wife smiled at the boys. Lillian stopped and looked in the window, then down at the two hopeful faces now lifted to her in silent pleading.

  She lifted her finger to them in a scolding manner. “You are not being rewarded for bad behavior, do you understand?”

  They bobbed their heads up and down, with big smiles.

  She opened the door to the bakery, the small bell tinkling in greeting. “But a little treat can’t hurt.”

  Chapter 3

  As they left the bakery, a few sprinkles of cold rain began to fall. Tommy and Gabriel raised their faces to the sky and tried to catch raindrops with their tongues, while Lillian held the newspaper above her head and clutched the bakery box close to her. They quickened their pace as the rain began to fall more heavily, running the last block. They dashed up the steps to their brownstone and ducked into the vestibule.

  “Are the cupcakes safe?” asked Gabriel.

  Lillian inspected the box. “Not a drop on them.”

  Tommy and Gabriel sprinted up the stairs, the day turning out unexpectedly well for them. Lillian unlocked the door, and the boys kicked off their shoes and wriggled out of their wet coats. They hurried to the table, eyes wide in anticipation. Gabriel pulled out a chair and tucked his legs beneath him, while Tommy reached for two small plates and placed them in front of him and Gabriel.

  Lillian set the bakery box on the kitchen table. “How about a glass of milk to go with your cupcakes?” As she poured two glasses of milk, the boys lifted their cupcakes out of the box and positioned them in the middle of their plates.

  “I’m going to start at the top of the tree,” said Gabriel, turning his cupcake around.

  “I’m starting at the bottom,” said Tommy.

  Lillian smiled, thinking how easy it was to make them happy. She believed that happiness was the natural state for children, and that if she could simply protect and encourage it, the result would be joyful children. But it was not always so easy to achieve, she thought, fretting over the day’s lost salary. She unfolded the newspaper on the other end of the table and spread the pages to dry, and then went to her bedroom to change out of her suit.

  A few minutes later, she lit the burner to boil water for a cup of coffee. It would help to fortify herself for the task ahead. After finishing their cupcakes, Tommy and Gabriel sprawled out on the living room floor. Gabriel laid out pieces from Tommy’s Lincoln Logs to build a cabin. Tommy lined up his tin soldiers for battle.

  Though her intention was to look for a job, the headlines pulled her in a different direction. The Nazis raiding the Jewish Quarter in Krakow, Poland. The Soviets moving closer to the Mannerheim Li
ne and Finland appealing to the League of Nations for intervention – would anyone help these people?

  After reading for half an hour, she pushed the paper away in fear and disgust. The world was changing, even here in America. She could sense it in a thousand little ways. There was a clear shift towards meanness and intolerance. The German American Bund was growing in strength. Hatred was being stirred up and fueled by vile rhetoric.

  She used to believe the acts of aggression were the result of the lean and difficult years of the ’30s here and in other parts of the world. But now she feared that something else was at work. Tensions that had simmered for years had erupted into all-out war, following the German invasion of Czechoslovakia, and the partition of Poland by the Nazis and the Soviets. The Soviets were now in Finland, and the Japanese in China. Good God, where would it all end? There was talk that Hitler would take one country after another, but surely that would never happen.

  She used to argue about it with her friend Izzy and held the position that it was the culmination of a period of resentment that would soon burn itself out. They had countless discussions. Last year Lillian had insisted that Hitler’s own people, among the most cultured in the world, would stand up to him. Like most Americans, she had favored isolationism.

  Izzy had argued that a terrible madness was seizing the world. She believed that Hitler must be stopped at all costs and declared that she would go herself if she were allowed to fight.

  Lillian had believed that the world would come to its senses and turn its back on the delusional, hate-filled aggressors. But the past months had proved Izzy right. Lillian had a sinking feeling that evil had been let loose in the world and was gaining momentum.

  She was suddenly frightened. Frightened by the world at large, by human nature. She was frightened at what was coming, and feared that she didn’t have the wherewithal to take care of herself and her boys. The swirling pool of fears began to churn, eddying them up to the surface – fears of war, as well as concerns closer to home.

  Her immediate fear was that she would lose her job. She didn’t trust Mr. Hinkley. And perhaps she had been foolish, believing in her own importance to the department. She had lost several days’ pay while at Annette’s, and now today. What if more days were to follow?

  Four years had not made her any better at being alone. She was not like other people. She was not like Izzy, charging through life in full control and enjoying every minute of it. Or like her sister, Annette, taking pleasure in every day.

  Lillian was at a crossroads and didn’t know which direction to take. And so she stood there in the middle of the road doing nothing, wringing her hands, while life passed her by.

  She raised her eyes to the gray sky outside the rain-streaked window. Here she was, in her thirties, a widow, living in Brooklyn, far from her girlhood home upstate. Again, she considered moving back there. But what would she do? How would she support herself? Once more, she decided against it. At least she could always find work here in New York City. She sat up straight, took a sip of coffee, and placed the newspaper squarely in front of her.

  She turned to the help wanted section, and lifted her pencil, in earnest about her job search. But the more she looked, the more discouraged she became. For the most part, the only jobs listed for women were for domestic help: Baby Maids, Cooks, Houseworkers, Nursemaids, General housework. The ads for sales were all for men: Sales Help Males, Aggressive Salesman.

  She lay her pencil down, disheartened at not seeing a single sales clerk position for women. Of course, the department stores had already done their hiring for the Christmas season – she should have known that.

  Her brow furrowed. She must keep her job. It was so much better than anything else offered in the newspaper. She rose to her feet and stood at the window. Through the rivulets of rain on the glass, she looked down at the street below. A car drove by, splashing water onto the curb. A few people hurried along the sidewalk, huddled under black umbrellas. Across the way, a few lights showed in the brownstone windows. But for the most part, the day was cold, still, and gray.

  “Mommy?” Gabriel came into the kitchen. “What are you looking at?”

  “Hmm?” Lillian lifted him to her hip. “Just the rain. It will be a good night for you boys to see a film with Dom and Tony.”

  “And Mary,” he added.

  “And little Mary.” She kissed his warm cheek and set him down. He ran back to play with Tommy.

  By late morning, her head ached and her notepad remained largely blank, except for a few jobs she had written down and then crossed out. She eyed the sketches she had made in the margins of the notebook – a small village with a rainbow, a gate leading to a garden, a fairytale tower.

  She dumped her cold coffee in the sink and considered making a fresh cup. She glanced over at Tommy and Gabriel. They were now reading comic books on the couch, with a quilt shared between them. They had played nicely together all morning, but now they were getting bored and growing argumentative, pulling at the cover.

  “You have more than half!” said Gabriel, with a tug at the quilt.

  “That’s because I’m bigger than you and need more.” Tommy yanked the cover towards him.

  Lillian sat back down at the table and looked at her list of possible jobs. She dreaded filling out applications, hoping to be hired. She added a little bench to the flower garden, then drew a birdbath with a small splashing bird.

  “Fine! Take it.” Tommy kicked the quilt off his legs, slid off the couch, and tossed his comic book to the floor.

  “I want to go see if Dom can play. Can I?”

  “Not now, Tommy. I told his mother I would bring you and Gabriel over at six o’clock. It’s enough that you’ll be seeing a movie and spending the night with them. You don’t need to be there all day.”

  “But I want to go outside.”

  “Me too,” said Gabriel. “Please, Mommy?”

  “It’s raining…” Lillian let the sentence fade.

  But after another half hour, they were at it again. “Can we go outside now?” demanded Tommy.

  “I’m hungry, Mommy!” said Gabriel.

  Lillian pushed aside the newspaper and glanced at the clock. “I didn’t realize how late it was. Let me fix you some lunch.” She scooted back her chair and rubbed her neck. “Tommy, will you check the mail for me?”

  He went down the stairs, happy to have something to do. Lillian opened the breadbox and took out a half loaf of bread. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches would have to do, and a can of soup. When she opened the cupboard she saw that they were out of soup.

  Tommy soon came running back up the stairs. He entered the apartment, his face filled with happiness. “Mommy, look who’s here! Miss Briggs!”

  Lillian spun around. “Izzy!” She closed the cupboard, and went to greet her friend. “Come in. Let me take your umbrella.”

  “Hi, Miss Briggs!” cried Gabriel, running up to Izzy.

  “Miss Briggs?” Izzy asked, playfully indignant. She tousled his hair. “I’m Izzy to you two.”

  “What a nice surprise!” said Lillian. It was as if a burst of summer sunshine entered the apartment.

  “My sis and her husband are up for the weekend. They’re over at Aunt Ethel’s now. I left them there to visit, and thought while I’m in Brooklyn I’d pop in the department store for a little early Christmas shopping. I stopped by to see you, but they told me you weren’t working today. I thought you worked every Saturday.”

  “Babysitter problems. I had to call off work today and Mr. Hinkley was not happy about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he fires me. So,” Lillian pointed to the newspaper and her notebook, “I’ve been checking out the want ads. How about a cup of coffee?”

  Izzy caught the worry in her friend’s voice. “I have a better idea. How about lunch?” She turned to Tommy and Gabriel. “You boys hungry?”

  “Starving!” said Tommy with a wide smile. Gabriel began to jump up and down at the possible outing.

  “Me too,” said Izzy. “Let’s go grab a bite. My treat.”

  “Oh Izzy, you don’t have to do that,” said Lillian.