Today on the Christmas Blog Party, welcome Jane M. Tucker, author of Lottie’s Gift. She is sharing a Christmas short story set in a time of street cars and high button shoes. Enjoy a feel-good break from reality during this busy season. Then enter to win a signed copy of Lottie’s Gift.

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AN UNEXPECTED GIFT

by Jane M. Tucker

 “Christmas is just around the corner. How will I ever afford a train ticket home?” Roberta Caldwell stared in dismay at the bills in her hand. “Which one of these can I ‘forget’ to pay this month?”

But Roberta was a girl who paid what she owed. It looked like she’d stay in the city this Christmas. Instead of sleigh rides at home, she’d have a streetcar ride to St. Luke’s to help serve Christmas dinner.

She heaved a sigh and scooted off the sofa. “Time to check with the employment agency. Maybe they’ll have a new request for an illustrator. Or at least an art teacher.”

Roberta stepped in front of the mirror to settle a red cap atop her chestnut curls and straighten the collar of her threadbare coat. She gave her reflection a jaunty smile. Something would turn up.

An icy wind pushed her down the street. Two blocks seemed like twenty as her legs turned numb in their black wool stockings. Her thin leather high button shoes did not help one bit.

She didn’t see the wallet until she stepped on it – and nearly twisted her ankle. “What on earth?” She looked around for its owner, but the sidewalk was deserted. “You’re coming with me, I guess.”

The employment office was a haven of warmth. “Hi Julia. Got anything for me?” Roberta asked.

Julia looked sympathetic. “Nothing today. You’re watching the classifieds, aren’t you? I hear J&B Publishing is hiring.”

Roberta brightened. “I’d love to work for them.”

She headed for the library to read the want ads, and search for information about the wallet’s owner. She hoped he didn’t live too far away.

The wallet contained a hundred dollar bill, a military i.d. tag, and a snapshot of a young bride and groom. Roberta returned the money to its slot, out of temptation’s way. “Johnson, Melvin D,” she read from the i.d. tag. “I wonder where you live? You have a pretty wife.” The young woman in the picture wore an old-fashioned wedding dress, her hair a braided crown beneath a gauzy veil.

The newspaper said nothing about J&B Publishing, but the phone directory listed five Melvin Johnsons. Roberta copied down their numbers and returned to the employment office to borrow the telephone.

Half an hour later, she’d eliminated three Melvin Johnsons who were too young, and had spoken at length with the chatty widow of a fourth. One number remained.

“Hello?” said a nasal female voice.

“Is this the home of Melvin Johnson?”

 “Who wants to know?”

Roberta stumbled over her words. “I—I have something of his. I thought he might like it back.”

The woman let out a shriek. “Listen, you hussy. You can keep whatever it is you think you have on him. My Melvy won’t be blackmailed. Don’t ever call here again!”

The woman slammed the receiver so hard Roberta’s ears rang. “I sure hope that wasn’t the girl in the picture.” She sighed. “Now what do I do?”

Julia raised her eyebrows. “Keep it?”

She thought of the bills the money would pay, with enough left to buy a ticket home. Many people would take it and be grateful, but Roberta couldn’t. It didn’t belong to her. She shoved the billfold into her pocketbook. “Melvin D. Johnson, I will give back this wallet if it’s the last thing I do.”

After supper Roberta ran to catch the streetcar. She loved Wednesday evening services at St. Luke’s, especially during Advent.

The streetcar was nearly empty. She sat down and pulled the picture out of her pocket. The couple looked so dignified, standing in the outline of two ornately carved church doors.

Roberta snapped her fingers. She knew those doors.

When the streetcar stopped, she ran to St. Luke’s and took the front steps two at a time. There at the top were the doors from the picture. The Johnsons had been married there.

Though she usually sat toward the front of the sanctuary, tonight Roberta took the back pew and searched the congregation, praying God would lead her to the couple in the picture.

By the end of the service, she had to admit defeat. She wouldn’t find them tonight. Filled with frustration, she bowed her head for the benediction.

“Hello, Roberta.” Reverend Walker stood at the door to greet his parishioners.

Roberta looked into his kindly old face, and hope was reborn. “Reverend, how long have you been at St. Luke’s? You must know the neighborhood well.”

Reverend Walker brightened at this show of interest. “I started here thirty-six years ago, fresh out of divinity school.”

She shoved the picture into his hand. “Do you recognize this couple?”

He studied it with a frown. “She looks familiar.”

“Who is she?”

He scratched his chin. “I officiated at a funeral this week. A small family, burying their elderly mother. They had a picture of their mother as a young woman, and she looked like this bride. Marjorie Johnson was her name.”

 “Did she live around here?”

“Once, many years ago. She owned a plot in the church cemetery next to her husband, Melvin.”

Roberta froze. “Melvin is dead?”

The reverend nodded. “Died in the war. My dear, are you all right?”

“Yes.” She felt light-headed. “Well, good night.”

Roberta descended the steps and crossed the street in a daze, unaware of the Rolls Royce barreling towards her. It stopped at the last second with a squeal of brakes, and a man jumped out. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You!” Roberta gaped at the man in confusion. “But you’re dead!”

He stared at her. “What?”

A woman in a fur coat put her head out the window. “The girl’s all right, darling. Let’s go.”

Roberta held the man’s eyes. “You’re Melvin D. Johnson, aren’t you?”

 He took a step toward her. “Melvin was my father.”

“Oh.” She handed him the wallet. “You dropped this on Jefferson Street. Don’t worry. It’s all there.”

“Thanks.” The man took in Roberta’s worn coat and scuffed boots as he opened the wallet. He fished around for the dog tags and wedding photo, and handed it back. “This is all I need. You keep the rest.”

Roberta felt her cheeks catch fire. “But Mister, there’s a–”

 “Keep it.” He pulled a business card out of his coat pocket. “Young lady, do you need a job?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Come see me tomorrow morning. We can use an honest person like you.”

Roberta took the card. “J&B Publishing. William M. Johnson CEO.”

Christmas would be merry after all.

Have you ever received an unexpected gift during a great time of need?

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Thank you, Jane for sharing this delightful Christmas story with us. 

Readers, are you ready? Jane is giving away a signed copy of her book, Lottie’s Gift. 

~ ~ ~

Lottie Braun is a world-class pianist with a celebrated career and an empty personal life.

Why does she guard her privacy with such vigilance? And what kind of tragedy has separated

her from her sister for forty years? One sleepless night Lottie lets herself remember. From her

happy Iowa childhood, to Chicago, New York and beyond, Lottie journeys through her life to

the moment it changes forever. But Lottie finds that memories, once allowed, are difficult to

suppress. Can she make peace with the past? And will she ever find her way home.

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Giveaway rules: Open to residents of the continental USA. Must be 18 years old to enter. Winners will be chosen at random. 

Winner will be notified by email and have 3 days to respond with a mailing address or book will be awarded to another entrant.

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Many thanks to Angela for inviting me to her Christmas blog party! I am an author and passionate Midwesterner from Overland Park, Kansas. My novel, Lottie’s Gift, is available on Amazon.com and at CrossRiverMedia.com. You can read about my adventures in America’s heartland at JaneMTucker.com. I’m also a regular contributor to MidwestAlmanac.com.

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