Gunther awoke Christmas Eve morning, looked out of his bedroom window, and saw a light dusting of snow on the ground and a haze of whiteness in the atmosphere. After checking the weather forecast, he dressed quickly and raced down the stairs and into the dining room where Mirna and his sisters sat in the kitchen eating breakfast.
“We’re in for a heavy snow, so I’m going to get Caroline. Otherwise, I won’t see her here this evening. You get half an inch of snow in this place, and everything stands still.”
“That’s awful,” Frieda said. “Cory can’t stay away from his kids. It’s Christmas.”
“It’s supposed to snow for Christmas,” Mirna said. “He’ll be here. Big, strong man gon’ let you know he’ll go through hell and high water to be with you. Let’s finish dressing this tree. It could use a few icicles and a little snow.”
Gunther reprimanded Mirna with a stern look. “Did I hear a note of cynicism? She’s right to be concerned.”
In the act of rising from the table, Mirna glanced at Shirley. “Why you so down? Didn’t he say he gon’ be here? That’s a man who keeps his word.”
“I invited him, and he said we’d be together, but he didn’t sound as if he was looking forward to it.”
Gunther didn’t sit down, but poured a cup of coffee, took a sip, and shook his head, as if in sadness, as he looked at his younger sister. “Let this be a lesson, Shirley. Closing the door on a relationship is always far easier and simpler than reopening it, and a lot less painful, too. Use your head. If a man loves you, he needs to know you believe in him. See you later.”
The falling snow thickened by the minute, and Shirley’s anxiety increased along with it. She went into the living room but left quickly rather than disturb Gunther and Caroline, who huddled before the fire. She started back to the kitchen but went sprawling to the floor as Frieda raced to answer the doorbell.
“Shirley, honey, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She pulled herself up with Frieda’s help.
“Let me answer the door,” Frieda said, contrite but obviously anxious to see whether she’d find Cory there.
Shirley dragged herself to the kitchen trying not to hear the happy voices of Frieda and Cory as they greeted each other.
Mirna’s arm rested on Shirley’s shoulders. “Honey, why don’t you get a book or something and pull yourself together? If he coming, he coming. If he don’t come and don’t call you, you know it’s over, and you stick your chin out and say the hell with him. Here. Help me turn this ham. Thank God you don’t have to do nothing to a goose after you put it in the oven.”
She let out a long breath as if exasperated at Shirley. “And please go get dressed. It’s already three o’clock. When he come, you want to greet him looking like you wasn’t expecting nobody?” She put an arm around Shirley and hugged her. “It’s gon’ be all right. Quit worrying and say a prayer.”
But Ogden arrived with Marsha, day slipped into night, and Carson neither arrived nor phoned. At seven o’clock, Mirna complained, “We already half an hour late. My dinner gon’ be a mess.”
Resigned and more miserable than she’d thought she could be, Shirley accepted that Carson wouldn’t be there. “We may as well eat,” she said.
Ogden’s worried expression infused all of them with intensified anxiety. “He told me yesterday that he’d be here, so I’m sure something has happened.”
“He could have changed his mind,” Shirley said. She put on a CD of Christmas carols and headed for the dining room. The doorbell rang before she got there, and she whirled around, barely managing to retain her balance as the Persian runner moved with her. She opened the door and gasped as Carson slumped against her.
“Gunther,” she yelled. “Come here!” Gunther and Ogden reached them as she and Carson were about to slide to the floor together. Cory joined them, and the three men took Carson up the stairs.
“Put him in a tub of hot water,” Mirna called.
Shirley walked from one end of the downstairs hallway to the other and back, tears of anxiety, joy, and hope flowing down her cheeks. “Lord, let him be all right,” she prayed until the weight of Ogden’s hand on her shoulder caused her to look up at him.
“He doesn’t seem to have any frostbite, but he was suffering from hypothermia. Gunther put him in a tub of hot water to thaw out. His car stalled just before three o’clock, and he’s been walking since then. He couldn’t get transportation.”
“I’m going up there,” she said to Ogden.
“Go ahead. The two of you probably need a minute together.”
“Dinner be on the table in five minutes,” Mirna called after Shirley. “You can get lovey-dovey after you eat.”
Carson met her at the top of the stairs. “I wanted to call you, but my fingers were so numb I couldn’t dial.”
“It’s all right, love. You’re here now, and that’s the only thing that counts.” The feel of his arms around her was all the Christmas she needed. They strolled down the stairs holding each other’s hand.
At the table, festooned with a red linen cloth and napkins, green and red candles, and a centerpiece of red roses nestled in holly, Frieda said, “I know Mirna always says the grace, but tonight, I want to say it:
“Lord, I am so blessed to know and have my brother and my sister, to have my mother, and to have a man who I care for and who cares for me and to be with all these dear friends. Last year, I was alone. Thank you for this and for the food. Please bless my other brother, wherever he is. Thank you.”
Nearly two hours later, they finished a meal of oyster stew, roast goose and stuffing, baked ham, cranberry relish, wild rice, turnip greens, candied yams, jalapeño corn muffins, assorted cheeses, lemon meringue pie, and coffee.
“I could hang out here indefinitely,” Cory said, got up and kissed Mirna.
“You better kiss me and Shirley, too,” Frieda told him. “I washed the greens and Shirley helped with the ham, plus Shirley and I set the table.”
“That’s all you want? A kiss on the cheek?” he asked, grinning down at her.
Frieda looked at Gunther. “I thought you told me this man is clever.” The comment brought a round of laughter, and Shirley marveled that she could be so happy when only a couple of hours earlier, she had thought she would die of misery.
“We gotta find places for everybody to sleep,” Mirna said to Shirley and Frieda. “Can’t nobody drive in this weather.”
“That’s no problem,” Frieda said, not bothering to hide her pride. “Cory drove his brother-in-law’s truck, and it has a snowplow. I’m going home with him to spend tomorrow with him and the boys, and he said he’ll take Ogden and Marsha.” Cory confirmed the plan, explaining that the truck seated four—five if three people watched their diet.
“Caroline’s staying with me,” Gunther said later to Shirley. “Where Carson sleeps is up to the two of you.”
The four couples sat in the living room, their only light being the fire’s flickering flame and the romantic glow of the lights, bells, and trinkets that bedecked the eight-foot Fraser fir beside the fireplace. Gunther collected the gifts from beneath the tree and passed them out, and Shirley noticed that none of the women opened that special gift from the man who professed to love her.
Long after they had said good night to those who left and to Gunther, Caroline, and Mirna, Shirley sat with Carson in the living room, watching the dying flames and wondering what was next for her. “I want us to be together,” Carson said, “but not without a firm commitment from you. Do you trust me always to be there for you, to support you in every way, and always to do right by you?” She took his hands in hers and nodded her agreement. But he needed more. “And if you doubt me, will you tell me what you think and how you feel?”
“I promise.” She didn’t want talk. She wanted him, but she knew him now, and she hid her impatience.
“I love you. I want to build a home and a family with you. Have you given that any thought?”
“Oh, yes. I want that more than anything. To be with you for the rest of my life is what I want. When I thought I’d have to spend Christmas without you, wondering if you’d had an accident or if you just didn’t care, I could hardly bear it.”
“At times, I thought I wouldn’t make it. I was so cold and so tired. I can’t explain how I felt when you opened that door.”
Carson stood, took her hand, and climbed the stairs with her.
“This way,” she said, pointing to her room.
He stopped. “What about Gunther?”
A grin spread over her face. “The pot can’t call the kettle black. He’s with Caroline. Didn’t you see that tiny package he took off the tree and handed her?”
“Way to go,” he said. Dreamy-eyed and happy, he picked her up and carried her to bed. Through her open window, the moon cast a soft light all about them, shrouding them in moonlit beauty. “I love you,” he whispered as she swayed to him, besotted by the love that glowed in his eyes.
He claimed her with his hands, his mouth, his tongue, and finally with his body. An hour later, they lay spent and useless, like a pile of discarded old clothing. With reluctance, and much effort, he separated their bodies, got up, and found his jacket. Resting on one knee, he said, “Please give me your left hand.” After slipping a diamond on her finger, he asked her, “Will you be my wife and the mother of my children?”
“Oh, yes. It’s what I’ve wanted since that second day we were looking for the will in Father’s house.” He kissed her, crawled into bed, put his arms around her, and went to sleep.