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Le Cadeux de Noel
Chapter 3



Kitty clapped her hands in a giddy manor and squealed. “Yeeeaaah! Uncle Drosselmeyer’s there. I love this part.” That statement only caused everyone to stop and look at her questionably. “What,” she asked.

Peter laughed softly. “Katya, aren’t you Jewish?”

“So? That doesn’t mean that I can’t like The …” The immediate shh’ing by Jean and Scott cut her comment off.

*Sorry, Kitten, but I want it to be a surprise for the children,* Jean told her.

“Well anyway, I like Christmas. Because of my open-mindedness people tend to give me presents. I usually add those with the ones I get from my family then I go throught my inventory and laugh manically. By the end of the season I finish with roughly nine or twelve presents. That’s right folks, I win.” She finished patting herself on the back by giving the crowd raspberries, which only further proved her maturity level.

Scott shifted dramatically so that the attention would shift back to him. Just as he turned the page to start again, the sleigh bells on the front door jingled again. “Oh for crying out loud!”

The loud crunching of snow under thick heavy boots and the jingling of light bracelets made the arrival of two people who would most liking be joining the impromptu party.

Scott slapped his forehead. He did not want to have to put up with any more sass tonight. The only thing he could do was hope and pray that neither one had been drinking.

Jean popped into his head and thought *Oh please, who do you think your thinking about.*

*Oh fine. Maybe Logan won’t smell like a brewery this time. At least Ororo will have more smarts than that.*

Jean laughed nervously.

Before the couple made it from the foyer into the living room, the crowd had to put up with low growling, and giggling. There was a “Logan! [giggle giggle] We have yet to get completely inside.” The prompt response was a gravelly, “Ya mean, I have yet to come completely inside, baby girl. If ya keep movin’ around like that, it’ll happen sooner than ya think.” More giggles. Then came the sound of a sharp slap of a plump backside.

The ladies of the crowd blushed. Jean covered her children’s ears and did what she could to hide her own crimson cheeks. Scott threw up a little in his mouth and was forced to swallow it, while the two boys high fived and nodded their approval at the smoothness they hoped to one day achieve.

“Alright you two,” Scott shouted, “my esophagus can only take so much. Either get a room or get out!”

Ororo poked her head in and was a bit taken back. Her evening outfit of a chiffon animal print top with a black a-line skirt and knee high black high heeled boots looked as if she should have been nearly frozen solid, but of course she was not. As usual she looked as if she stepped right off a runway. Especially with that hair. Jean never understood that. How did she keep doing that? She got over the “always looking good thing,” but the hair. Why did it always manage to keep its body? There was no way that she could control the winds to a point were they wouldn’t effect her hair, could she?

*I wouldn’t be surprised if she could. Now can I have your attention, please,* Scott asked.

“What is all of this,” Ororo asked.

Nate perked up immediately. He always did whenever she came into a room. Everyone knew about his crush on his Aunty Ro, except of course the person in question. He’d only behave on a regular basis when she was around. “Aunty Roro, we’re reading a story. Why don’t you stay, please?” Rachel made kissing noises and faces behind his back. Before he could turn around and punch her, his mother and telekinetically separated them.

Jean sighed in frustration, “Yes Ro, please please join us.”

“No that’s ok Ro,” Scott said, “I’m sure you have other things to do…oh god,” as he finished he could feel the bile resurface. The mental image of a naked, short, feral, and extremely hairy man was far too much. He lurched again, and held one finger up to stop the conversation.

Ororo leaned on her hip to wait for him to finish his antics. They were not funny! Logan could smell the mood change in his lady and came to stand next to her with a hand on her waist that slowly began to work its way down. She looked at him and he shrugged.

“Scooter.”

“Logan.”

Not liking the casual dismissal, Logan decided to tease and leave a mark. “What did you say earlier? Get a room, right? This looks like a nice room. Big too, right love.”

Ororo knew exactly what he was up to and the consumed liquor from earlier loosed her up and made her far too susceptible to naughty antics. “You need a big room too, do you not?”

“Mmn, I’m feeling a little stretched out.” The room was alive with groans and snickers again.

“Logan!”

“Oh hey, Jean. I didn’t even see ya there.” He said without even looking at her while he pushed Ororo to a comfortable love seat right under a window. He crossed right in front of Scott and left a present on the winds.

While they snuggled up together under a red afghan and looked so very comfortable, Jean looked at her husband. *What did I tell you! He didn’t even see me.*

“Look all I want to do…What the he- - Logan, did you have to fart in my face?”

“Yep.”

Ororo shifted in her position of using her lover’s torso as a pillow and turned around so that no one could her giggle, but everyone heard the very unlady like snort. She turned back around and covered Logan’s mouth to stop him from saying anything else.

“I am so sorry, Scott. We promise to behave.”

Logan pouted at her, but settled in.

Scott ignored the annoying and creepy lovey dovey acts coming from Logan and Ororo and did his best to continue with the story. Granted, the hot chocolate did feel nice on his raw throat. Despite the new onslaught of interruptions, he wanted to show his children what happened next.

~X~

Claire moved aside to let Herr Drosselmeyer in. His chocolate colored wicker chair that he moved in was surprisingly mobile. Of course the tall and devilishly handsome young man who pushed him made it all look easy.

Of course as the night went on, the fruit punch and eggnog consumed made events and conversations slow down to a dull roar. Marie was fighting of heavy eyelids. For the first time she was thankful that Fritz was keeping things lively.

Right before she was going to turn herself in for the night, Uncle Drosselyer had called everyone into the main room to present his gifts for the family. All the guest new about his extravagant and often eccentric ways, so everyone quietly gathered. Claire’s parents came running as if they too were children, and even Fritz stopped misbehaving and held still long enough to give his Uncle his full attention.

“First and foremost I want to introduce you all to something very special. Claire and Fritz I need your help for a minute. Elizabeth, you don’t mind do you?”

“Of course not.”

The two children rushed to his side gasped as he motioned to a humongous ornate box.

“Children, help Monsieur Lebeau move the box to the center of the floor, and listen to him when he has you open. Yes Fritz, I am talking to you.”

The younger man just blew air, but did go to help. Clair held back a bit taken back by the box taller than she, and by the young man who was beginning to unlock it. He turned to see her standing there looking she and pointed at a lock that was very near her.

“Excuse me, ma petite, but I do need a little bit of help with these.”

“Yea, Claire. Stop standing there and do something,” Fritz scolded.

“Aw come now, she’s just scared of a giant box that needs twenty-two dead bolts. I would be too, if I didn’t know what was inside.”

Claire blushed as he winked at her.

“When all is said and done, would you mind dancing with me, ma belle?”

All she could do was smile at this charming stranger.

When the last two locks were taken down, Claire could distinctly hear the sounds of winding gears, and bells. It was a sweet and warm sound. She felt comforted. Memories of being wrapped in her mother’s embrace with her violet hair tickling her nose or sitting in her father’s chair came back in a rush. She was suddenly in a hurry to open this box.

The whole room was silent and still as the door fell open and became a ramp. Drosselmeyer nodded to his assistant to go inside the dark opening. When he came out he was carrying, what looked to be a very stiff person, vertically in his arms. When he placed the person in the clearing of the floor, Claire saw that she was the most magnificent thing she had ever seen.

The person was a very tall woman. She appeared to be a ballerina. A dark-skinned dancer dressed in a corset covered in snowy lace and pearls. The skirt dipped a little below her knees and gleamed in shades iridescent blue. Her long arms were festooned in patterns that glittered with a material that Clair couldn’t place. Her hair was full and thick in a complicated style adorned with ivory combs and bejeweled pins. The most spectacular thing about her was her hair. It was a beautiful pristine white. Whiter than the streak Claire always pushed behind her eyes. Like untouched snow in a clear field. It was curled and flowed majestically around the items carefully placed in it. The life size doll’s hair was a stark contrast to her skin tone, but it made her look royal and fierce while she still maintained the grace of a dancer. Even while on her toes and her arms arched high above her, this exotic maiden gave off an air of wonder and allure. Claire walked around to face and found a tilted soft face with closed eyes. The snowy eyebrows were relaxed and still.

Suddenly there was a click, and Claire was looking at the widest bluest eyes she had ever seen.

Fritz pulled her back outside of the circle and into the crowd.

The crowd watched the mystical life-size doll dance a flawless dance of agility and grace. Her hands were always held together as if she was holding something. That’s when Claire finally saw it. In her hands was what looked to be a larger than usual toy solider, but it was made of wood. The bight red coat told of its English make and the replica scale sword looked to be made of actual steel. Even the small musket strapped to his back looked as if it could shoot.

The dancer cradled the toy solider brought her arms down and did a slow pirouette. As she came to rest, she looked as if she forgot about the dance and the crowd, and she simply ran her fingers all around the smaller doll. It was if she was looking for something or perhaps she forgot it. Her head tilted to the side as if she didn’t understand. She then brought it to her heart. The scene looked parallel like a mother holding a sleeping child or very much like a lover’s last embrace. The crowd was silent again, completely spellbound.

When all was still again, Claire finally was able to look at the doll that the dancer held in her hands. It was a fancy toy nutcracker. Claire was confused again. The smaller doll was by no means new. The face was worn down and the nose looked as if it had been broken and repaired several times. There were scars in the face and buttons were
missing of the coat. Despite the damage the warrior looked functional and proud. He had obviously been around for a long time.

Fritz nudged his sister had in her stomach because he caught her staring again. She looked so odd staring there while everyone else was applauding. With the party drawing to a close, the party going slowly began to filter out. Fritz did not want to waste time getting the last of his jollies.

Drosselmeyer saw to it that the life-size doll was put back, but not before extracting the nutcracker.

In front of their parent’s and close family friends Drosselmeyer presented the two Staulbaum children with the first two toys he ever made.

“To my boy Fritz, I give you, The Mouse King.” He handed the young man a furry glaring life-like rat, the size of a forearm, raped in purple plush robe and a glittering crown holding an imperial staff. It looked dreadfully realistic.

Fritz was absolutely enamored.

“And to Claire,” he continued, “I give you the very first toy I ever made. I was your age actually.” Fritz was about to say something smart, but his sister’s foot stomped on his.

Dosselmeyer handed Claire a wrapped bundle. When she pulled the simple tie she was amazed just as her brother was. Her uncle had given her the precious Nutcracker.

“Alright children,” Elizabeth said. “The time for you to go has passed. To sleep with you, or no Christmas presents in the morning. And peeking either!”

“Yes, my niece and nephew. Let your dreams take you to places your eyes will never see while open.”

Fritz dashed up the stairs to his bedroom as quickly as he could. Not to be a good boy, oh no. Claire saw that evil grin he had when he ran by her. She new he’d sneak downstairs to sneak in those presents, and she planned on cutting him off early when everyone else had gone.

This year she wouldn’t be alone in doing so either. She would have company. She would have her Nutcracker Prince.





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