Authors: Caren J. Werlinger
Ellie reached back to her backpack now, feeling the bulge of the wrapped parcel tucked inside. She walked quickly and got to the drug store within ten minutes. She held her breath as she pushed the door open. The bell signaled her entrance and Sylvia looked up from behind the coffee counter where she was serving a couple of customers.
“Hi, Mrs. Benedetto,” Ellie said, looking around. Her heart fell when she saw no sign of Teresa.
“Hello, Ellie,” said Sylvia. “How can I help you?”
“Ellie!”
Ellie turned to see Teresa coming out from behind the tall pharmacy counter. “Hi, Teresa.”
“Come on back to the office.” Teresa shut the door halfway, just enough to shut them off from her mother’s view. “What brings you down here?”
Ellie set her backpack down and unzipped the main compartment. “I wanted to bring you your Christmas present,” she said, holding out a wrapped parcel.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Teresa said, but she looked pleased.
“It’s nothing to get excited about,” Ellie said quickly. “It’s handmade, not bought.”
Teresa looked up. “That makes it extra special.” She turned the package over in her hands. “Should I open it now?”
“No,” said Ellie. “I’d be too embarrassed. Wait until you’re home.” She zipped up her backpack and slipped the straps over her shoulders. “I have to get back. I only get a half hour for lunch.” She paused as Teresa reached past her for the door. “Thanks for the note the other night.”
Teresa’s face broke into a shy smile. “You’re welcome.”
“See you soon?”
Teresa nodded. “Soon.”
She walked Ellie to the door.
“Bye, Mrs. Benedetto,” Ellie called. “Merry Christmas, if I don’t see you before then.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too, Ellie,” Sylvia said.
Ellie hurried down the sidewalk. At the corner, she turned to look back. Teresa was standing there. Ellie gave a small wave and turned the corner.
CHAPTER 14
Sylvia came through the
back door of the store carrying a covered plate. “I brought chicken piccata,” she called, setting the plate on the desk back in the office.
“Thanks, Ma.” Teresa finished making a cappuccino for a customer who was waiting for his wife while she browsed the aisles of the store.
“I’ll have some of that,” the customer joked, jerking a thumb toward the office.
“You drink your coffee.” Teresa smiled as she slid the hot mug toward him.
“You have such nice things this year,” said the wife. She carried an armful of little gifts up to the register. “These will be perfect stocking stuffers.”
“Or Befana gifts,” Sylvia chimed in as Teresa began ringing the purchases up.
“I haven’t done Befana since I was a kid,” the man said. “We got our stockings in January, after Christmas. We should do that for the kids this year, hon.”
“What’s Befana?” the woman asked.
“Italian Santa Claus,” Teresa said. “An old woman who leaves gifts on the Epiphany.”
“My family’s Polish. I remember we celebrated St. Nicholas on December sixth,” the woman said wistfully. “We could start a new tradition.”
“January sixth,” Sylvia said. “You hang the stockings up the night of the fifth, and Befana, she’ll come.”
“We’ll do that,” the man said. He finished his cappuccino and accepted the shopping bag from Teresa.
“
Buon Natale
.”
“
Buon Natale
,” the couple echoed, heading out into the cold night.
“Go on home, Ma,” Teresa said as she cleaned the espresso machine. “I’ll be home late tonight.”
“Why? Where you going?”
“I want to check in on Nita and the aunts,” Teresa said. “See if they need any last minute shopping done. I’ll see you later tonight.”
“All right,” Sylvia said, slipping her purse over her elbow. “Don’t let your dinner get cold.”
Teresa smiled. “I won’t. Thanks, Ma.”
Teresa locked the back door after her mother and went to the office where Dogman’s plate was tucked in a file drawer. She scooped half her dinner onto his plate and re-used the aluminum foil to cover it. She ate quickly in between customers. Promptly at seven, she pulled down the front security grate and locked the front door. She turned off the lights and took the cash drawer back to the office to reconcile it. When she was done, she grabbed her coat, put Dogman and Lucy’s food out for them, and locked up the back of the store.
Traffic was light as she drove to the aunts’ house. She rang the doorbell and waited. Nobody moved fast in that house. She smiled as she heard voices from inside.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Teresa.”
“Are you sure? Let me see.”
“Of course I’m sure. I know my own goddaughter, don’t I?”
“But I want to see for myself.”
At last, Anita opened the door.
“Teresa. What are you doing here?” she asked, pulling her niece inside and closing and locking the door as Luisa hurried back into the living room to catch whatever was on the television.
“I wanted to talk to you.” She peeked into the living room and said hello to the other aunts. “No, I can’t stay,” she said in answer to their invitation to come in and join them.
“Come to the kitchen,” Anita said.
Teresa followed her to the back of the house. Anita pulled out a chair for Teresa and sank heavily into another. Teresa draped her coat over the back of the chair and sat.
“Now, what is it?”
“I have a friend—the girl who helped me decorate our front window at the store. She’s all alone. Her parents are dead.” Teresa decided against trying to explain about Ellie’s brother. “She was alone at Thanksgiving and has no one to spend Christmas with.”
“Oh, that’s terrible,” Anita said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You bring her here with you on Christmas Day.”
Teresa broke into a relieved smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Well, what else is the poor girl going to do?” Anita huffed indignantly. “Of course, she should be here with us.”
“I might need your help with Ma,” said Teresa. “You know how she can be about family holidays.”
Anita patted Teresa’s arm. “You leave it to your godmother. I may be the youngest, but I’m the most stubborn.” She leaned close. “And I cook the best. If Sylvia gives me any trouble, I know how to get around her.”
Teresa threw her arms around her aunt. “Thank you, Nita. I knew I could count on you.”
Anita laughed. She laid a loving hand on Teresa’s cheek. “You can always count on me, Teresa.”
Teresa stood and put her coat back on. “I’ll let you get back to your television. Thanks again.”
When she got home, she found both of her parents in the living room where they were watching the news on the television.
“I miss Andy Williams,” Lou was saying from his armchair, his legs stretched out on the ottoman. “They don’t make Christmas specials like that anymore.”
“And Bing Crosby,” said Sylvia. “Remember his specials? Maybe President Reagan can bring them back,” she added hopefully. “I bet they knew each other in Hollywood.”
“Ma, Reagan isn’t even president yet,” Teresa said. “He doesn’t get sworn in for another month.”
Sylvia gave a derisive snort. “Another month of that Carter. It can’t go fast enough for me.”
Teresa sighed and rolled her eyes. “Ma, why—”
Gianni came into the living room and said, “I’m going out.”
“You just got home!” Sylvia glared at him.
“And now I’m going out.”
“Why don’t you ever bring Angelina over here?” Sylvia asked.
Because he’s not going out with Angelina!
Teresa wanted to say it but clamped her jaw tight and turned back to Walter Cronkite as he wrapped up the nightly news.
Gianni gave his mother an embarrassed smile—a look Teresa knew from long experience was completely fake—and said, “We like to be alone, Ma.”
“Did your register come out even?” Lou asked.
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” Gianni said with a wave of his hand.
“How many times I gotta tell you, you do your register at closing every night,” Lou said.
“What does it matter?” Gianni asked. “Tonight or tomorrow. It’s all the same.”
“It matters because it’s part of the job,” Lou said angrily. He turned to Teresa. “Did your register come out even?”
“On the penny,” Teresa said, not looking at her brother. She could feel his baleful gaze directed at her.
“See? Your sister knows,” Lou said. “When it doesn’t come out even, you’ll never remember the next day. Before you know it, you’re short twenty, then fifty. You lose money and you don’t know where it’s going.”
But Teresa knew. She knew every time Gianni overspent his paycheck, an extra twenty or two went from the cash register into his pocket.
“You keep this up, and I’m going to put you back behind the coffee counter,” Lou said, but Teresa knew it was an empty threat. Gianni knew it, too.
If you were going to punish him, you needed to do it a long time ago.
Teresa clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from saying it.
Gianni muttered something about the Morningside store being busier and not having time.
“
Basta!
” Lou said. “You shape up or we’re gonna have a talk.”
Gianni opened his mouth to retort.
“Quiet,” Lou said. “It’s time for Perry Como. Teresa, change the channel and adjust the antenna.”
Gianni stormed out as Teresa got to her feet and played with the rabbit ears until her father said, “That’s good. Right there.”
“He’s in the Holy Land,” Sylvia said reverently, crossing herself as the show opened.
Teresa sat there watching Perry sing until the first commercial break. “I’m going upstairs to read.”
Sylvia reached over and gave Lou a nudge. “Tell her.”
Teresa looked at her parents. “Tell me what?”
Lou cleared his throat. “Your mother and I were talking, and we, uh, we think it’s time you had a raise.” Teresa’s mouth fell open. “You’ve been working hard, and we want you to know we appreciate it. So, with the new year, you’ll get a five thousand dollar raise.”
Teresa didn’t know what to say. “Wow. Thanks.”
“Shhh!” Sylvia flapped her hands. “Perry’s back on.”
Teresa turned toward the stairs, feeling as if a miracle had just occurred. “Thank you, Perry Como,” she whispered.
She went up to her room and closed the door. She turned on the bedside lamp and plumped her pillow against the headboard. From the bedside table she picked up a frame.
May the road rise up to meet you…
She’d read the blessing so many times, she knew it by heart. Lifting it near, she inspected the intricate Celtic knots Ellie had painstakingly drawn and colored in. Up close, she could see the little imperfections of the hand-inked letters.
She did this for me.
Never had anyone made something so special, put so much care and attention into a gift just for her. She ran a loving finger over the frame. It felt as if she were holding a bit of Ellie in her hands.
It was Christmas Eve, and the stores were all closing as six o’clock chimed. People hurried home, last minute packages tucked under their arms. Store employees waved to one another, wishing each another a Merry Christmas. Ellie got out of Kaufman’s as quickly as she could and peeked through the glass door of the diner. It was nearly empty. She saw Louise refilling a customer’s coffee at a far booth.
Ellie came in and hopped onto one of the counter stools as Louise put the coffee pot back on the burner. “I’m so glad I caught you before you closed.” She slid a wrapped present across the spotless Formica. “Merry Christmas, Louise.”
Louise smiled. “Haven’t I told you a hundred times to save your money for all those trips you’re going to take?” She reached under the counter and laid a heavy square package in front of Ellie. “Got one for you, too.”
Ellie’s face lit up. “For me? Really?” She stood on the foot rail and leaned over the counter so she could pull Louise into a hug.
“Don’t you even want to see what it is?” Louise said, laughing as she hugged Ellie back.
“I’ll love it, no matter what it is,” Ellie said happily. She released Louise and sat back down.
“You want anything?”
“Just a Coke. You have the kitchen all cleaned up,” Ellie said.
“I kept one grill hot, just for you,” Louise said. “Be right back.”
Ellie pushed off to make her stool spin. One, two revolutions and—she suddenly grabbed the counter to stop her motion. “Teresa!”
Sitting in that far booth, Teresa was watching her with a bemused smile. She slid out of the booth and carried her coffee cup to the counter. “Merry Christmas,” she said as she perched on the adjacent stool.
Louise peeked out from the kitchen. “She’s been waiting to see if you’d come in.”
“You were waiting for me?”
Teresa nodded. “You’re coming to my aunts’ house with me for Christmas dinner tomorrow.”
Ellie’s expression sobered. “No. I can’t—”
With a clatter, Louise set a grilled cheese sandwich down in front of Ellie. “Now, you listen here,” she said sternly. “I’ve invited you home with me for as long as I’ve known you, and you always say no. I’ve let you be, but it’s not right, Ellie Ryan.” She glanced at Teresa. “You got a friend inviting you home with her for Christmas Day. There is no reason for you to spend the holiday alone.”
Ellie looked doubtfully at Teresa. “What about your mother? Won’t she—”
“I talked to my godmother, Aunt Anita,” Teresa said. “I told her you had no family and she insisted you come. She’ll help if my mother puts up a fuss.”
“See?” Louise said. “It’s all taken care of. Eat while that’s hot.” She put a piece of apple pie on a plate and set it in front of Teresa. “And you keep her company while she eats.”
Teresa smiled. “Thank you.”
Louise moved away to clean up.
“Are you sure?” Ellie asked in a low voice. “I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not imposing,” Teresa said. “You’ll have to put up with about thirty people, so it’ll be crazy. But you’re not imposing. And it’ll make me happy. Nice necklace, by the way.”
Ellie’s hand flew to the heart hanging from the chain around her neck. She met Teresa’s eyes and what she saw in them made her insides tingle. “Okay. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend Christmas with.”
They ate while the last couple of customers paid their checks, wishing Louise a Merry Christmas, and soon they were the only diners left.
“And you’re not doing extras tonight,” Louise said. “We already took care of it. We gave out soup and sandwiches to anyone who wanted some before the dinner rush.”
Ellie’s eyes teared up. “I love you, Louise. Thank you.”
Louise looked at her fondly. “I love you, too, baby girl. You made me realize how blessed I’ve been. Got to help others when we can. You don’t know how much you’ve done.”
When they were done eating, Teresa insisted on driving Ellie home. Ellie gave Louise one more hug and accompanied Teresa to where the VW was parked. She stopped suddenly.
“Listen,” she said. The stores were all closed. Hardly any people were out. A deep hush lay over the city. “Have you ever gone out and just walked on Christmas Eve or early on Christmas Day, listening to the quiet?”