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Le Cadeux de Noel
Chapter 2

Marie tried getting her key in the door, but it was getting harder and harder. The damn keyhole kept moving. It really was. Those last four shots of tequila told her so. She turned around to ask for some help from Kitty but she wasn’t there. Marie peered around the column to see where she could have gone. She was to busy trying to keep her balance coming down the walkway wide enough for four men across. It should have been easy for her, Marie thought, she was moving at a snails pace.

“Damn,” she thought to herself. She put her hand on the large oak door to brace herself. Hopefully inserting and turning the key wouldn’t be a two handed job.

Scott had just sipped his hot chocolate when that funny rapping sound came through the door again.

He looked at the clock. 10:47. The club that the younger crew went to probably closed early on Christmas Eve. He was hoping that keys weren’t lost, or that they weren’t blazingly drunk.

As he got up to go to the door the smell of hard liquor wafted through. He groaned as he opened it. There was a plastered Anna-Marie, and Kitty being held up by the waist with their feet dangling by Peter. Behind him and the girls was Bobby on the ground who had apparently slipped on his own ice puddle.

“Get in, all of you. Shower then go to bed. Your lucky I’m busy right now or else you’d get a verbal beating right now.”

The simultaneous reply was, “Yesth Scoot.”

In about twenty minutes the young adults ended up coming down in Christmas printed and plaid pajamas to join the Summers’ family while Scott took a bathroom break. When he got back he tried to hide his surprise at the sight of his larger audience.

Bobby looked up with wide eyes, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Scott didn’t believe that act for a second. “Didn’t want a hang over, did you?”

“Daddy, what’s a hang over,” Nate asked.

Jean glared at everyone from her position behind her children, then gave a big bright smile. “Okay! Is everyone all settled in, yes, now we can continue on with our story?”

Scott made himself comfortable in the oversized fluffy recliner. He opened the picture book and began to describe the open scene full of festiveness.

~X~

Herr Staulbaum rolled his eyes at the noise from the party that took place below him. His wife loved to show off. He just hoped that his daughter wasn’t on the menu, so to speak. He hated that she was an object more than a person nowadays. He shuffled some of the spreadsheets into order, and sighed. Oh well, it was the price of growing up. That’s when he heard the soft knock on the door and smelled the eggnog and ginger cookies.

“She’s never late,” he said aloud just as his daughter poked her head in.

“Hello Father. I saw you dip in here and I knew you hadn’t had anything to eat.”

“Thank you Claire. Your intuition is impeccable as usual.” He smiled at her. She was beginning to bud into a young woman despite his wishes other wise. Soon she would be in another man’s household and no longer his “little girl.” He frowned at that. Sure she didn’t have any suitors yet, but there was plenty of time. He doubted that not even her special lock of snowy hair in a field of earthen brown would be an effective deterrent from the inevitable. He tucked that lock behind her ear as he sat down next to her to munch on cookies.

As they began to sip on eggnog, he produced a present wrapped in red with a gold bow for her from behind his back.

“Papa,” she squealed with delight, “what is this?”

“Last time I checked, they were called gifts.”

“I know that, but I didn’t see you give Fritz one. I would hate for him to be jealous.”

“Oh please, he will get presents if he behaves this year.”

Claire giggled. She didn’t tell him that her little brother was currently taking the very expensive cubes of ice and stuffing them into chairs so that it would surprise unexpecting guest in an unpleasant way.

Her father stroked his slow growing beard and mumbled, “I hope that boy isn’t playing with the ice, again. I think you should open that before you get distracted by a certain someone coming to visit.”

Claire looked a little confused. Her father new she was to old for tales of Saint Nicolas. Then she remember about that other certain someone who made his annual trip at this time and smiled widely. “When is he coming Papa?”

“I will tell you when you open it.”

Delicate fingers carefully untied the bow and unwrapped without tearing anything. There inside a small box was a gold locket. The locket had the picture of Saint George slaying the Green Dragon. It was beautifully detailed and full of texture. Her fingers traced the pattern.

“Open it,” her father said.

Inside was a working clock with precious tiny rubies one and six o clock and emeralds for three and nine o clock. The second hand moved and nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“Papa, thank you so much.” She threw her arms around him and whispered, “You’re my Angel.”

He fastened the locket around her neck and squeezed her shoulders. “You better run along now. I don’t want your mother to come hunting for you. Besides you don’t want to be late.”

“Late?”

“Yes, I just saw a carriage pull up. You know the carriage of a certain beloved toymaker. Hmm. You know the one I’m talking about.”

Claire couldn’t help jumping up and down and squealing. She looked far younger than her twelve years. That was how her father wanted her to stay. As she bounded out of the room and down the stairs he looked out and smiled as he watched the old man in the chair be helped out by his young and agile looking son. He had fond memories of his childhood of fantastic toys brought by the man whom he called…

“Uncle Drosselmeyer, Claire exclaimed as she breathlessly greeted the older man at the door. “We’re so happy to have you here!”





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