Harvest of Expectations Ch. 05

Chapter 5 -- Merry Christmas

December 1973

Jim knew that life and all its events was a proposition of give and take. He strove to hold up his end by giving, lest he err in the taking.

It was his last chance.

It was nine in the evening and the stores would be open for anther thirty minutes. It would be no good to wait until the next day. The next day would be December 24 and he planned to use that as a travel day. Besides, as he looked around the big box store he could see that the shelves were starting to look sparse.

"I'd like to kick myself in the ass for waiting until the last minute."

There was no time for that. He had given up trying to find something within his budget at the downtown department store. He gave up and pushed his car through holiday traffic to the discount store in the edge-of-town plaza. It was tough sledding.

"I don't know anything about shopping," he reminded himself, as if he needed reminding.

"I'm going to buy one of these wallets," he told the clerk who approached him. "I'm just deciding on brown or black."

The clerk opened the glass case and brought out one of each so Jim could look closer.

"Who's it for?" he asked.

"My Dad," Jim answered.

The clerk nodded.

"Brown is a little more casual," the clerk told him.

"Black, then," Jim said. "My Dad's a salesman. He wears a suit to work every day."

The clerk nodded again and placed the wallet in its box and handed it to Jim.

"You can pay for it at one of the registers at the front of the store."

"Thanks," Jim said, but the clerk was already walking away.

"He probably hasn't done his shopping, either, and is kicking himself in the ass."

The selection made Jim feel a bit more confident. There was one down and two to go, his mother and Hildy. He had no idea what he would buy them, but he knew for sure it would be in that store.

He hadn't seen Hildy since her visit for the Colgate game. If he had gone to visit her, he thought, maybe he would have a better idea what to give her. His mother asked him what he planned to give her at Thanksgiving when Jim made a one day visit for the big feast. She told him to give it some thought and plan ahead, but Jim didn't listen. He was sure that something just right would show itself at the right moment.

"It's the right moment now, so show yourself.

He was stuck; it was his own fault and he knew it.

He would like to say that he missed her—and he did—but he had also been busy. In fact, most students had left the campus nearly a week ago with the semester finals completed. Jim stayed behind to work on his final project which had been approved by the faculty committee. Even Rich had left for New Jersey several days before.

Tomorrow he would make the two-hour trek to his parents' home (the dauntless Rustmobile willing). The day after Christmas he already had a date made with Hildy and he would give her the present then.

He was in the Men's Department, so he knew he had to move—somewhere. As he walked, the smell of perfume became stronger. He followed his nose. The further he walked, the scent increased in strength.

"Are you looking for cologne or perfume?" a lady behind the class counter asked.

He paused for a moment, not having realized that he was looking for either.

"I can't honestly say that I know the difference," he answered.

She reminded Jim of the manikins in the store. She was about forty, thin, with a needle nose. Jim's impression of her was that she had a fancy hairdo and a lot of make-up

She grabbed his wrist without saying another word. She was holding a square bottle with a liquid that was the same color as gasoline. She sprayed a helping of it on his bare skin.

"It's cologne," she told him. "Do you like it?"

He wasn't sure if she meant 'did he like it as a gift idea' or 'did he like the fact that his wrist smelled like perfume'. He thought that, per haps, he should ask her what she meant by question, but he didn't want to be impolite. His answers would have been 'I don't know' and 'no', respectively.

"I don't know enough about this stuff. I can't even tell if this is the high-quality brand or the cheap stuff."

"I have another kind you can sample," the woman said.

She grabbed for his other wrist. Jim was quick and pulled it back before she could grasp it. Quick to adapt, the saleslady sprayed the liquid in the air and Jim could feel little droplets fall on his forehead.

"What was I saying?" he asked himself. "I'm in a discount store. Of course it's the cheap stuff."

"I'm going to think about it, if it's okay," Jim said.

He backed away from the counter and looked for another venue to continue his search.

"I know one thing. Smelling like this I can't venture outside the Women's Department."

He turned a few corners and something caught his eye. It was a display—kind of like a glorified hat rack—with knit mufflers, hats and gloves. There were a lot of bright colors, which Jim liked. He took a look at the price tags and that was good, too.

"Been sampling cologne?" a voice behind him asked.

It was another sales lady, a bit older than the one he'd encountered in the perfume area and had a matronly appearance.

"Do I smell that bad?"

"I wouldn't venture into Sporting Goods or Automotive for a little while," she said. "Otherwise, you'll be okay."

"This lady understands me."

"I thought I would try to put together a set of these as a gift."

"Have a color in mind?" the kind lady asked.

Jim thought a minute. The display was the most promising thing he'd seen, and the store was going to close in ten minutes.

"Actually, I need two sets," he explained. "I think I like the red and the green."

The lady set to work, picking out a red set. The hat was in the shape of a tam. The gloves were one-size fits all and the muffler was rolled up but the packaging said it was forty-eight inches, plus fringe.

"There isn't a tam to make a complete green set, the sales lady told him, "but I have a blue set that's nice."

It was a nice blue, sort of a royal blue that pleased the eye.

"The blue one will be fine," he said.

She handed him the pieces. She must have seen the confusion on his face.

"Sorry, there's no box for them."

Jim thought that for nearly twenty dollars per set they would give him a box. He would have to deal with it. He'd come too far to turn back.

"Maybe you could help with something else," he asked the kind lady. "One set is for my mother and one is for my girlfriend. Which one would give to which?"

"I see," the lady said, but then hesitated.

"She isn't really my girlfriend, just sort of. We met this summer..."

He stopped himself, realizing that his explanation wasn't needed.

"What does your girlfriend look like?"

"Well, she's tall and has real blonde hair. And..."

"Blonde," the lady interrupted. "Then I would give her the blue set."

Jim felt a lot better.

Thanks, ma'am. Merry Christmas to you," he said and then turned, despite the cologne odor, and headed to the cashiers' area.

**************

Jim knew the holidays were important to families. As he and his siblings grew older he could tell it meant more and more to his parents. It happened at just the time when he had plans of his own, but he put them aside because he thought it was the right thing to do.

It was a cold, clear night.

The drive from Jim's parents' house to Hildy's was nearly a half hour. There was snow on the roads from a storm earlier that day so Jim gave himself some extra time so that he wouldn't be late. He was grateful that his father had loaned him his Catalina again. The heater in the Rustmobile was working, but not very well.

"Put some gas in it this time," his father said as he was on his way out the door.

"Sure, Dad," he replied, "but if you want me to do that you'll have to loan me some money."

He remembered his father heaving a big sigh as he opened his wallet and gave him a twenty.

"I won't need this much..." Jim had begun to say.

"Use the rest to buy that poor girl something nice," he said. "You can't just order hot water and pour in some catsup."

Jim' finances weren't that desperate, of course. He had planned ahead and reserved enough for a nice dinner for two at his favorite diner. He even had enough for a movie afterward.

"Maybe we can get that booth in the back," he was thinking to himself as he drove along.

He realized he was in Hildy's driveway.

The front yard was covered with snow, right up to and including the steps that led to the porch. The driveway was clear and there was light on at the back of the house. He pulled his car ahead toward where the light was. Hildy's Christmas present was on the seat next to him. He thought of taking it in the house with him, but decided to leave it in the car.

There was a back door and it led into a sort of unheated mud room. Jim clicked his boots together to get any snow off that he could. When he was satisfied that he'd done as well as he could he took off his gloves and knocked on the door.

Hildy's mother answered. She was wearing an apron and an expression that was neither happy nor sad.

"Come in," she said as she opened the door.

"Good evening, Mrs. Wertz," Jim said as he stepped through the door, "I hope you had a Merry Christmas."

He was in their kitchen. Hildy's father was at the table, reading the newspaper and had a fresh cup of coffee steaming in front of him. Mrs. Wertz shuffled to the sink where she was washing dishes.

"Come in, come in," her father said without looking up.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Mr. Wertz," Jim said and stuck out his right hand.

The older man still hadn't looked up from the newspaper. He didn't reach out to shake hands with Jim. Jim stood at the table with his hand extended in mid air.

"Same to you," Hildy's father grumbled.

He folded up his paper and sat back in his chair. Jim lowered his hand.

"Well, have a chair, young man."

Jim unzipped his winter jacket and pulled one of the wooden chairs from the table.

"I hope I didn't track in any snow from outside," he said as he sat down, though he knew he'd been careful not to do so. "I would have taken my overshoes off, but all I have on under my boots are my socks and..."

"We'll mop up anything after you and Hildy leave," her father said.

"It's only water," her mother piped up from her position at the sink.

Jim sat still, hoping to hear Hildy coming down the stairs. Instead he could hear the water running in the shower.

"So, you're going to graduate soon," her father told him.

"Yes sir, that's right. I'm in the middle of my final year project. I was working on it over the Thanksgiving break. That's why I couldn't see Hildy then."

Her father grunted under his breath.

"You see," Jim continued, "It a design for a Bromine plant..."

"We've got a big project in our shop," her father interrupted. "A big job for Amalgamated Machine; lots of parts; very close tolerances. Of course, you're an engineer. You'd know all about that. Did I tell you I'm a machinist?"

"No," Jim said, "I don't know much about it. Machining would be a job for a Mechanical Engineer. I'm not that. My studies are in Chemical..."

"We had an engineer from Amalgamated in the shop the other day," Mr. Wertz said. "White shirt and tie. You know, the whole outfit. Tried to tell us how to do our job. Turns out, I had to teach him how to read the drawing."

The older man stopped talking, presumably to give Jim time to absorb his point. He sat in his chair, arms folded across his chest peering at Jim through a set of thick-lensed glasses..

"Yes, sir," Jim replied and then said no more.

It had occurred to Jim that he probably knew enough about machining to tell the old man a thing or two. He, however, preferred to concede the point in a match he had no interest to win. Hildy's father grunted and returned to his paper. Her mother stood at the sink drying the dishes.

Hildy's father sipped his coffee. Jim sat still, wondering if the old guy would ever offer him anything when he picked up Hildy at her house. He didn't really want the coffee, but being polite was important to Jim and it worked in two directions.

"I get all the free advice I can handle. I'd trade that in for a cup of coffee right now."

Jim watched the second hand make a few tours around the face of the clock. It seemed like an hour, but it was fifteen minutes later when Hildy bounded down the stairs.

"I'm ready to go," she gushed.

"Hildy, why don't you sit down and have some coffee and dessert?" her mother said.

"Mother, I haven't even had dinner yet," Hildy shot back.

"Forget it," her father said. "They just want to get out of here."

"You got that right," Jim was thinking.

He kept silent.

Hildy already had her boots on. She was putting on her coat.

"C'mon," she urged him, half in a whisper.

Jim zipped up his coat and opened the door for her. They were in the mudroom when he heard her father's voice.

"Usual time," he called out after them.

*****************

"Don't bother, I've got the door," Hildy said as Jim moved toward the passenger's side of the Catalina to open it.

The driveway was covered with a pack of snow and it crunched under their feet. Hildy's father had irritated Jim even more than usual. As he detoured toward the driver's side he tried to think of a way to talk to Hildy about it,

"Is this for me?" Hildy said in an excited voice as Jim slid into the driver's seat.

She was holding the wrapped box with her Christmas present in it.

"Hildy, I forgot to hide that. It was going to be a surprise for later."

"Let me open it now!"

"Why don't we save it," Jim insisted. "It's not much, anyway."

Hildy set the box on the back seat. She slid over on the seat so that she was close to him.

"I missed you," she whispered, and kissed him on the mouth.

It was a quick kiss, but it was the first Jim had received from her since she had visited him during the football weekend. He felt himself move by impulse. He reached around her and pulled her as tight as he could.

"I missed you, too".

He kissed her back, but stopped short of what he wanted to do.

"If we sit here in the driveway much longer your father will come out to see what's going on," Jim warned. "And then, he'll see what's going on."

Hildy giggled and slid back to the passenger's side.

"It's so cold we could get frozen together," she laughed.

Jim backed out of the driveway. He had many things on his mind.

"I'm glad you missed me Hildy. I was afraid that you might be mad because I didn't see you at Thanksgiving."

"That's okay," she answered. "We went to Aunt Mildred's, anyway."

"I understand, Hildy. I meant the day after Thanksgiving. You see, I had to go back and work on my project. It had just been approved by the faculty committee. It's a design for a..."

"I know, you told me," Hildy assured him.

Jim turned the car onto the main road.

"Well, at least you missed me," he said.

"It's not like you never called me up or wrote to me," Hildy said. "You shouldn't worry about it. I know that you're busy."

They drove along for a few minutes.

"Did you have a nice Christmas?" he asked.

"It's not over yet," Hildy said. "I can't wait to see what's in the box that you brought for me."

Her voice was bubbly. Jim glanced over and her face was alive.

"All in good time, Hildy," Jim said, "but don't get your hopes up. It isn't much"

She slouched in her seat, reminding him of a child finding out that Santa Claus would be fifteen minutes late.

"I know I'll like it," she insisted, "whatever it is."

Soon they were easing into a parking space in the diner's lot. Hildy bounded out of the car.

"It's not the Shakespeare Room," he said.

"I remember this place," Hildy chimed. "It's where we had coffee after the Shakespeare Room."

Jim began walking toward the front door of the restaurant. In a moment Hildy was walking at his side.

"That's sweet," she said.

"You can call it that if you want, Hildy. I call it 'what my budget can afford'."

She threaded her arm around his. She was clutching her present that he wouldn't let her open yet in her other hand.

"That's okay," she said. "It's my favorite place."

Soon they were inside. There were people sitting in the booth that they used the night he took her to the Shakespeare Room. Jim thought that Hildy was so wound up that she was going to ask them, to move. There was another booth not far away and they sat down in it.

"You're really excited," he said. "I hope it's not for that present because..."

"I'm just glad that you're here."

"Hildy, I had a thought. What are your New Year's Eve plans?"

"I don't have any," she said.

"I was thinking that you could drive down to my apartment. No one will be there but me—I mean us. We could have a nice dinner together. Maybe pick up where we left off after the football game."

Hildy's face turned glum.

"Not a chance," she answered. "I have to work on New Year's Eve and the day after New Year's. I had to work today. Christmas and New Year's Day are on Tuesday this year."

Jim was not easily dissuaded.

"That's okay. You could leave from work that Monday. You could be at my apartment by eight. We could spend some time together the next day and then you could drive back. What's the problem?"

"I just can't, not this time."

Her buoyant mood had disappeared. He voice was shaky. Jim could tell that he'd upset her.

"Never mind, Hildy. It seemed like a good idea at the time but I can see that it wasn't."

Hildy was looking down at her placemat. He thought about bringing out the Christmas present to cheer her up, but he doubted that a matching tam, gloves and muffler were going to do the job. Jim looked up and the waitress was standing beside the booth.

"Did you look at the menu?"

"No," said Jim, "but I know what I want—fried chicken dinner."

"Mashed or fries?"

"Fries."

"Cole slaw or apple sauce?"

"Slaw."

"Dressing on your salad?"

"Thousand Island."

The waitress turned to Hildy.

"What about you, dear?"

Hildy hadn't looked up.

"I'll have the same as him," she mumbled.

The waitress scribbled a bit on her pad.

"Cheer up, sugar. The chicken will be a little greasy, but it won't be that bad."

The waitress turned and walked away. Jim started laughing, to himself at first. Then he couldn't hold it in and laughed out loud.

"You can never fool a waitress," he blurted out.

By that time Hildy was laughing, too.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I guess I'm not a very good date."

"We'll see about that," Jim countered, "but at least you're a cheap date if you ordered the fried chicken."

The last comment was too much and they burst out laughing again. They kept it up until they realized that every patron, waitress and busboy was looking at them.

"Let's get back to where we were before I had that stupid idea," Jim said.

Hildy shook her head and her face was serious again.

"It wasn't a stupid idea. It's a wonderful idea. I'm stupid for not accepting it."

"I don't get it, Hildy."

She drew a deep breath.

"My parents would go crazy. That's the reason I can't go. I'm ashamed to say it, but there it is."

"You could get a hotel receipt and..."

"That barely worked last time."

"Well, Hildy, if you..."

Hildy placed her finger on his lips and Jim stopped talking.

"I might as well tell you the rest. You might have noticed that my parents don't really like you very much."

"Well, I ..."

Hildy silenced him again.

"It's my father, really. My mother goes along with whatever he says. In fact I heard part of the hard time he gave you tonight. It's not you. He just thinks that at my age I should be looking for a husband and he thinks that you're not a good prospect."