CHRISTMAS STORY

by JoAnn Baca

2021

 one of the author’s annual holiday tales

“Shhh! He’ll hear us!”

Samantha, Kipper, and Eric tried to sneak past Vincent’s chamber, their booted feet shuffling across the ground and making enough sound that Vincent smiled. He ignored the muffled noises in the tunnel, knowing the children were trying to be furtive. The giggling commenced once they thought they were safely beyond his hearing. Vincent knew the children would now watch for him to leave his chamber so they could secretly set up a small holiday display for him. Every year, older kids told younger ones about this tradition: surprise Vincent, it’s fun!

Schooling the smile from his face, Vincent lifted his cloak from its hook and tossed it around his broad shoulders, where it settled and flowed to below his knees. He stalked off in the opposite direction from the one the children had taken, his usual stealth abandoned in his quest to make enough commotion that they would know he had left. 

Once he had swept around the corner, he paused, listening. When he was sure they were aware of his departure, he walked on towards Father’s chamber. Catherine was there with Father, working with him on a basic law seminar for his older students. They looked up when he entered the chamber. 

“Ah, is it that time again?” Father asked, smiling and rising from his chair.

“‘That time’?” Catherine frowned in confusion, her look begging an explanation.

Father leaned close and stage-whispered, “The children will decorate Vincent’s chamber while he is out, and he will be ‘surprised’ when he returns. This happens every year. It never fails to astonish Vincent and delight the children.”

Smiling, Catherine turned to Vincent. “They love you very much.”

He tilted his head slightly, acknowledging her comment. 

Brave with the holiday spirit and in front of Father, she added, “They aren’t the only ones. I do, too.”

Father, who had bent to resume his seat, dropped into his chair in shock. Vincent’s eyes widened at the declaration, then resolution swelled within him and he replied, “And I love you, Catherine. So much.”

Perhaps it was a sudden attack of common sense…or perhaps it was apoplexy…that kept Father’s mouth firmly shut. But neither Catherine nor Vincent paid him any attention as they embraced, smiles of happiness, and maybe a little relief, on their faces. 

“Shall we return to my chamber now?” Vincent meant the words for Catherine alone, but Father rose to follow, the habit of years hard to break. They talked loudly and walked slowly, giving the children time to finish and conceal themselves before the “surprise” was discovered. Low whispers gave away the children’s hiding place, but the adults remained resolutely oblivious, and Vincent’s shocked gasp and “Who did this?” were satisfyingly believable. 

The display was much more elaborate than usual…suspiciously so. But Vincent didn’t ask…and Catherine didn’t tell. He made a mental note that she could act as well as he when it came to pretending surprise. 

After the children were praised, thanked, and hugged, they left with Father. Finally alone with Vincent, Catherine faked an open-mouthed surprised face and pointed to what was definitely not a decoration the children would have thought of: a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the stained-glass lamp above their heads.

Vincent was momentarily but truly surprised then. And he knew what she expected next.

It was the happiest holiday he had ever spent.