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(Jenny realized that she and her aunt had something in common. She found it amusing that the passage of time seemed to go unnoticed by her aunt as long as she was thoroughly engaged in a project. She knew that feeling. When she was in the middle of a writing project, she would actually go hours without remembering to eat. And even now, she noticed the time had flown by as she read.
Chidwi had once again draped herself on the back of Jenny’s chair, and she hadn’t even noticed. She stretched, patted Chidwi’s hand extended by her neck, and carefully turned another page.)
Lizzie hardly noticed how the time had flown by when Gaston came into the lab around the time of their usual end-of-week lunch. However, this time he did not come bearing the typical covered basket full of either homemade or fast-food goodies. Instead, he sang out cheerfully from the office door, “Merry Christmas, Lizzie and Thumble!”
Lizzie had been reading Relativity: The Special and The General Theory by Albert Einstein, and she looked up with a start. “Christmas, Gaston? Really? I thought that was next week!”
She had known it was coming, of course. Up in her apartment she had several of what she had thought were early Christmas cards sitting on the end table of her sofa, but she had not realized the time had come already. Her parents had gone off visiting family on the East Coast, and she didn’t feel like making the long flight and trying to sleep on some cousin’s couch somewhere or go through the hassle of getting a motel room.
She had sent off early Christmas cards and gifts for her parents and siblings a couple of weeks past and then set thoughts of the coming holiday to the back of her mind, out of the way of her studies.
“Yes, Christmas! Earth to Lizzie! You can’t possibly be that absorbed, can you?” he asked, his head cocked to one side, birdlike. “Oh my, perhaps you can. Well, mark your place. You’re done for the next few days. Run upstairs and pack some things for an overnighter. I won’t have you spending Christmas with no company besides Thumble. You’re both coming to my house. My housekeeper will be there as a chaperone, so, nothing untoward. Come on! Chop, chop!” he finished waving his hands at her to shoo her out of the lab.
Confused, Lizzie looked at the page number and memorized it. She wouldn’t potentially damage a book by using a bookmark or dog-earing a page. Her mother had taught her to simply memorize the page number and come back to that place later. Other students had thought this behavior some kind of superpower or something, but it had never occurred to her that it was anything out of the ordinary.
“Don’t worry about preparing Thumble. I have his traveling case in my car. I’ll take care of him. You just bring everything you’ll need for the day, as well as your sleeping things. You and Nita will be staying in the guest room,” he called after her as she rushed out the door.
It didn’t take her long to pack her pajamas, a change of clothes, a hairbrush, and her toothbrush and toothpaste. Lizzie had never been much of what her father used to call “a girlie girl,” so she could put everything into a small overnight bag with room to spare.
Downstairs, she noticed Gaston had doused the lab lights with the exception of the normal security lights and was busily locking the outer door. “You didn’t need anything from the lab, did you?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “No work allowed; you know. This is a holiday, something you haven’t done since we started.”
Lizzie shook her head and Gaston opened the passenger door for her, a gesture that made her feel somewhat awkward. This was different from usual. He was treating her like a guest, instead of a comrade. She nodded as she got into the passenger side, and he closed the door and got in the driver’s side. Like his lab, it was pristine and well cared for. It was a new model, and he kept it shiny and polished on the outside and just as well taken care of on the inside.
She knew several male students had earned some regular pocket money washing and polishing the car every week. Evidently, they also cleaned the inside.
As they moved onto the freeway, she realized she had no idea where he lived. She vaguely knew he lived somewhere in the foothills of Los Angeles, but she had never been to his house. Because it was Christmas Eve Day, the freeway wasn’t as crowded as it often was at noontime any other weekday. Lizzie could picture people all over the city occupied with wrapping gifts, preparing Christmas dinners, and greeting relatives and guests for a special holiday dinner.
At the university, students who had stayed over for the holidays were preparing for the various Christmas parties and events hosted by the school. It was odd. This was truly the very first Christmas she had ever been completely on her own, and she found herself grateful for Gaston’s thoughtful invitation. She probably wouldn’t have noticed she had missed Christmas until after the fact, but it would have saddened her that she had spent it alone.
By the time they pulled off of the freeway, commercial buildings had become fewer and farther between, and most of the structures they saw were neighborhoods of various sizes. Then even these became sparse, and they only passed an occasional house. The road twisted and wound its way around the hills as they climbed high enough to begin to view Los Angeles from above, here and there, as they would come around a bend.
Once again, homes began to edge the road, most of them facing out from the hill to take advantage of the view.
They had driven along in companionable silence for the most part, occasionally commenting on unusual Christmas decorations or shops or restaurants that Gaston had frequented.
“Almost there,” he finally remarked, “just ahead,” as they rounded a particularly sharp bend in the road. He stopped at the stop sign. The green street sign read, “Infinity Loop.” Sure enough, on the other side of the four-way stop was a bending street lined on either side with hacienda-style homes. As in most well-to-do neighborhoods, the houses were spaced well apart with generous front yards and what appeared to be well-kept redwood-fenced back yards. The cars in the driveways were late models and all as shiny as Gaston’s.
Finally, he pulled into the drive of a nice little home in the same style as the rest of the neighborhood. The landscaping was mostly desert plants such as yucca, aloe, and other succulents, but the vibrant magenta bougainvillea around the wrought iron archway that led into the entry of the house set the white stucco and red-tiled roof off beautifully.
“I love the hacienda style,” said Lizzie conversationally. “It really fits Southern California. I had no idea this neighborhood existed.”
“It is rather secluded, and the commute to pretty much everything is more than most people are willing to make,” he said, leading her under the archway. He opened the red front door and gestured for her to precede him.
She entered and was greeted by a large sunny living room that looked out on the front garden through a large window framed by a window seat. On the window seat was curled a large black cat that appeared to be napping in the sunshine. The room was white stucco, with a mantled brick fireplace and red ceramic-tiled flooring. You could see directly into a large dining room that exited into the backyard via four white French doors. To the left of the dining room appeared to be the door to a small kitchen, and to the right was a hallway that led to the bedrooms and bath. Not a large house, but roomy enough for a couple of people. From what she could see, the backyard was larger than the entire house, with a large lawn and well-manicured landscaping that contrasted with the desert theme in the front.
“Wow, Gaston, this is really nice!”
“Thank you, Lizzie. Just a moment and I will get Nita. I think she is out in the backyard hanging out some clothes.”
Lizzie stood there taking in the subtle holiday decorations in the bright living room. The mantle was trimmed with holly, and red and green candles on brass candlesticks stood on either end, with a small worn nativity in the center. On the coffee table in front of a dark maroon sofa were displayed several Christmas cards, and Christmas lights were strung around the entrance into the dining room. There was no Christmas tree, but Christmas ornaments decorated a red and green table runner that ran down the center of the dining room table.
Since she believed the professor lived alone, she was surprised that there was even that much decoration. The house was tidy, but perhaps this was because of his housekeeper. She knew few bachelors who kept a tidy house.
Gaston and a short Native American woman with greying braids dressed in slacks and a red smocked-gingham blouse came back in through the French doors. “Lizzie, this is Nita. She keeps house for me. Generally, she stays in the little attic apartment we built into the garage, but tonight she will be sleeping in the guest room with you.”
Nita smiled a wide white smile. “Welcome, Lizzie! The professor has told me so much about you. He says you have been helping him in the Los Angeles laboratory. Glad to finally meet you. Come with me, and I’ll show you the guest room.”
She led Lizzie down the L-shaped hallway. On the left, at the corner of the L was what was probably the master bedroom. In the center of the hallway was a bathroom, and to the right at the end of the L was the door that opened into a roomy guest bedroom with a twin bed on either side of the room, each with a small end table. At the head of the beds was a large, curtained window. Currently, the curtains were drawn back to let in the light.
Lizzie could see that some of Nita’s things, a hairbrush and a water glass and a paperback book, were on the table next to the bed on her right, so she took the bed on the left. She simply laid her overnight case on the bed, not caring to unpack anything at the moment.
“How long have you worked for Professor Gaston?” Lizzie had noticed that Nita used the word “professor” as if it were in all capital letters, so she decided that using the honorific was a good idea with her.
Nita didn’t seem taken aback by what might have been considered a personal question. “I’ve been with the professor since his boys were in junior high school,” she answered with a reminiscent smile. “After his wife got ill and needed help, he hired me to take care of her and the boys. Gladys passed about five years later, and I stayed on. His wife insisted he make a nice little apartment in the attic of the garage so I wouldn’t have to commute a long distance. My children were grown at the time and my husband had passed, so I had been living alone.”
Lizzie was a bit taken aback by her forthright answer. She had only realized after she asked the question that it probably was none of her business. Nita must have understood this by the look of concern on Lizzie’s face.
“It is good to work for the professor, yes? I have noticed he treats everyone with respect and kindness, and he is very generous with his employees. He has told me how much he respected your attitude towards learning and how very glad he is that he chose you for your position. Are you enjoying working for him?” Nita asked.
“Of course. I’m still not entirely sure what the end result will be, but the work is interesting, and he is an easy person to work with. I’m learning a lot, and it’s very different from classes at school. It was very kind of him to invite me for Christmas.”
She and Nita left the little bedroom and went to the living room. From the kitchen, Lizzie could hear Gaston humming happily to himself. “Is he cooking the meal for us tonight?”
“Oh, yes!” replied Nita. “The professor loves to cook, and he is quite good at it. While his wife was sick, he always did the cooking when he wasn’t at work. He says it is calming and allows his mind to wander the multiverse.”
This was a side of Gaston that Lizzie hadn’t thought about before. She tended to think of him as a rational scientist and teacher, not a person with hobbies that had nothing to do with his profession. She also noted the use of the word multiverse. It wasn’t a term bandied about often by physicists, and she was surprised to hear that Gaston used it so casually, as if it was a known and understood concept.
She settled onto the couch and looked around her. She wondered if she should go and volunteer to help in the kitchen, but Nita also sat down in an overstuffed chair in one corner of the room and pulled some embroidery out of a basket next to the chair. Lizzie remembered her mother saying that needlework was not just about creating something beautiful, but it also centered the mind and allowed her to pay better attention to the conversations around her.
Lizzie looked around. There, on the window seat were the big black cat and, to her surprise, Thumble. The cat was curled up in a loose ball and snuggled happily between his paws Thumble had also curled up in a little ball, his eyes closed.
“They seem to know one another,” Lizzie commented to Nita. “Does Thumble usually live here then?”
“Off and on,” Nita said with a fond smile. “The professor generally took him back and forth between here and the lab until he decided to let him stay on with you as some company. I think he was worried that you would become antisocial without some kind of interaction with someone. Thumble can be very good company without being terribly distracting. I think Tidbit has been missing him,” she added, glancing at the pair with a motherly smile.
“Gaston named that big black cat ‘Tidbit’? Really? He’s huge.”
Nita laughed. “Most people are surprised by his name. I have a friend with a chihuahua named ‘Ogre.’ The professor is funny like that. Sometimes it’s hard to tell whether he is kidding or not. But I suppose the cat was a kitten at some point. Maybe he was truly a tidbit then. He’s an old cat, but very spry for his age. He pretty much rules the neighborhood, or at least I think he thinks he does. But he and Thumble took to one another right away. Odd that. I would have thought Tidbit might have considered him a likely snack, cats being cats.”
Lizzie realized she really liked Nita. She was open and kindly. The little crinkly lines around her eyes and mouth indicated that she smiled more than she frowned. She could see how she must have been a great comfort for Gaston after the passing of his wife.
Gaston popped out of the kitchen, an apron that looked like a Santa suit around his middle. In each hand he held a frosty glass filled with what was obviously eggnog.
“Not to worry about drinking too much of this stuff,” he said with a grin as Lizzie eyed the drink somewhat suspiciously. “Alcohol free. We don’t need any of that sort of thing to have a fun time. The closest thing to a euphoric is the nutmeg sprinkled on top, and not enough of that to do more than enhance the flavor. Just a second and I’ll get mine, and we’ll toast the season.”
He bounced out of the room and returned with his own brimming glass. He raised his glass with a nod, and they did the same.
“To the many gifts of the season and the hope of peace on Earth and goodwill towards all men... and women, of course,” he toasted with a broad wink and a grin.
The eggnog was a perfect balance of sweet, creamy, and a tiny bit spicy. He plunked himself down in what was obviously “his” chair, an overstuffed comfortable-looking chair with clawed feet and damask upholstery.
As they sat in companionable silence, something came to Lizzie. When they had toasted, Gaston had mentioned “gifts of the season.” Oh no! She realized she hadn’t gotten a gift for him and, since she hadn’t known about Nita, she didn’t have a gift for her either! Now she sat there feeling embarrassed and wondering what to do if there were gifts for her here and now.
Evidently Gaston recognized her consternation. “Are you okay, Lizzie? The eggnog not to your taste?”
Lizzie hung her head and replied in a soft voice, “No, Gaston. I just realized I came without a single gift for you or Nita... not even a kitty treat for Tidbit. You must think me a terrible guest.”
Gaston let out a loud guffaw. “Oh, my dear. Not all of us celebrate Christmas for the presents, don’t you know? Now, don’t be embarrassed or concerned. We will be gifting, but not to anyone in this room. After supper we will be heading to a local orphanage with a large red sack. Not a single gift has any of our names on it. You’ll see. It truly is better to give than to receive.”
Lizzie let out the sigh she had been holding in and took another sip of the eggnog as her stomach muscles relaxed.
“Oh dear! It’s awfully quiet in here. I plumb forgot!” Gaston said, setting his cup on the end table by his chair. He hopped up and rushed over to the large stereo system in the dining room, and all of a sudden, the house was full of Christmas music.
“I set up the stack of Christmas albums before I came to get you and forgot to turn it on when we came in,” he explained, as he returned to his chair.
Lizzie turned to Nita, who had resumed her embroidery. “What are you making?” she asked.
“I’m embroidering pillowcases for a niece of mine who is getting married in February on Valentine’s Day. I tried to tell her to pick a different date as she will only get one gift on Valentine’s Day and her anniversaries, but she said she didn’t care as long as she had lots and lots of anniversaries.” She shook her head as if to say, “Young people and their notions.”
Lizzie laughed and said, “Well it sounds like she has her priorities straight, for sure. I noticed a lot of my fellow students in school seem to be of the impression that, ‘It’s just as easy to marry a rich man as a poor one,’ as if wealth or position makes for a ‘good match.’ Personally, I don’t get it, and I’m in no rush to find a rich or a poor man. I’ve got too many things on my to-do list to devote time to being a wife and/or mother.”
Gaston raised an eyebrow. “Really, Lizzie? I know you are very focused with your studies, but I would have imagined an intelligent and comely young woman like yourself would have had many dating opportunities in school.”
Lizzie blushed, but simply said, “It isn’t lack of ‘opportunities’ so much as a lack of interest. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”
Nita simply smiled over her embroidery and Gaston drained the last of his eggnog. “You hinted from the beginning you had some large but vague plans for your future. Anything coming into focus yet?”
Lizzie shook her head. “I’m still trying to figure where this ‘apprenticeship’ is heading, Gaston. We’ve been all over the map with these projects, and I’m struggling to connect the dots. I can see that each project in and of itself is interesting, and I learn something new every time, but I can’t help but wonder if this is as random as it seems.
“Something tells me you aren’t someone who does things without having a specific reason for it, but, if there is a point, it’s gone way over my head.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she hastened to add at Gaston’s raised eyebrows. “I’m loving it. School seemed so restrictive, and I couldn’t see how it would all fit into that gut feeling that there had to be something much more than what a formal education claims to offer. That being said, I tell myself at the end of each of your projects, ‘Okay, that’s done. Next time he’ll finally tell me where we’re going with all of this.’”
Gaston grinned a somewhat mischievous grin. “Ah, Lizzie. I knew I picked the right person when I brought you on. You have the necessary spirit and curiosity to be an incredible success in whatever field you decide to embark on. I’m actually encouraged that you still haven’t settled on a specific tack in your journey. You won’t have to wait much longer. This isn’t the time, really, to talk about work, but I promise you that your patience will pay off.
“In the meantime, I guessed I fibbed a bit when I said I had no gifts for you today, but it isn’t a Christmas present, strictly speaking. I want you to know that in my opinion you have passed your first tests admirably. After the first of the year, I’ll also be taking a sabbatical from the university and taking you along with me on an adventure of exploration. How does that suit you?”
“Really, Gaston? Where will we be going?” Lizzie asked, leaning forward expectantly on the edge of the little couch.
“Well, like most gifts and rewards, it won’t be any fun if I don’t allow you the joy of unenlightened anticipation, will it?” he said, now positively glowing with mischievousness.
Lizzie shook her head. “I guess the new year is only a week and a half away. I can wait that long.”
A soft “ding” sounded from the kitchen. “And the good news is that you don’t have to wait any longer for our Christmas Eve feast,” he chuckled. “Supper is ready. Let us retire to the dining room.”
The table was already laid with plates, cups, and silverware.
“Have a seat, both of you,” he called over his shoulder jovially as he strode into the kitchen. “Tonight, it is my delight to serve you.”
He came out with a tray of dishes: squash, stuffing, applesauce, and cranberry sauce. He set each of them on the table and returned to the kitchen to fetch the main dishes: a beautiful Christmas ham and a large bowl of mashed potatoes.
“There we go,” he said, and reached beside his chair to the stereo and turned the sound down. He turned to Nita. “Would you care to offer a prayer on the food?”
She nodded, and they all folded their hands and bowed heads reverently. She thanked heaven for the bounty of the feast and the purpose of the celebration and asked help for the needy and downtrodden.
At her soft, “Amen,” Lizzie looked up at Nita and said, “Thank you, that was beautiful. I should do that myself more often.”
Nita just smiled at her and reached for the mashed potatoes. Gaston turned the volume back up on the stereo. They all filled their plates and for a few minutes there was no chatter, just the familiar sounds of holiday music, plates being filled, and “pass the cranberry sauce” or whatever they needed.
Plates loaded, Lizzie basked in the quiet companionship, the tasty food, and the beautiful Christmas music. She hadn’t felt this much “at home” anywhere for a very long time.
After the meal, despite Gaston’s protests, she and Nita helped clear the table, put the leftovers away, and washed and dried the dishes, occasionally singing along with the carols issuing from the stereo in the dining room.
“Okay, grab your jackets, girls. There are orphans waiting for Santa’s elves to arrive.” He handed each of them a traditional elf’s hat and escorted them out to the Bel Aire. Evidently, he had already stowed the huge red bag of gifts in the trunk of the car. They cruised down the now festively lit street, and several twisty turns of the hilly road later they arrived at a large building that looked a lot like a school.
The large brightly lit curtained windows of the two-story building showed the shadows of children and adults moving around inside. Nita and Lizzie helped Gaston lift the large red cloth bag full of lumpy parcels and went up the steps to the entrance. Inside, they were greeted by someone Lizzie assumed must be the administrator of the orphanage. She was a middle-aged woman with gray streaks highlighting her dark hair.
“Welcome! Stay here for just a moment while I get everyone assembled in the dining room.”
A few minutes later she bustled back in and beckoned cheerfully to them. “This is as close to Santa as most of these children may ever get. Finding adoptive families is an ongoing challenge and some of these children have lived here most of their lives. Thank you so much for doing this.”
They entered the large dining hall to enthusiastic applause, hoots, and joyful laughter. They escorted Gaston to a large, overstuffed chair at the front of the hall and gestured for Lizzie and Nita to flank him on either side.
Lizzie discovered that these weren’t just random gifts. Evidently Gaston had researched the names, ages, and needs of each child. For each one, starting with the youngest among them, there was a package and a stocking filled with goodies. Each child was called up as a gift came out of the bag. Lizzie was handing him packages, and Nita was giving out stockings. He called out each name with gusto and cheerfully shook each hand and said something kind and encouraging to each child.
There were about thirty children in those assembled. Once every child had a package, three gifts remained. These were for the Administrator and her two assistants. He also gave her gift certificates for a meal at a favorite local restaurant to give to other helpers who weren’t there this evening.
Finally, he handed the administrator a sealed envelope. “To help with other things,” he whispered quietly to her, barely heard over the excited cries of children opening packages and treats.
She bent over and hugged him where he sat. “Thank you, professor. This means more to these children than I can express.”
Lizzie saw to her surprise that Gaston was blushing. “Just doing my bit,” he replied quietly. “I look forward to it every year. It is the highlight of my Christmas celebration. Of course, as you know, it was Gladys who began it.”
“We miss her too, you know,” she said, hugging him again.
As they drove back to Infinity Loop, Lizzie couldn’t help but think that this was the best Christmas she could remember. Gaston had risen even higher in her estimation. None of the gifts they had given those children had been cheap or low quality. He had taken each child’s needs and desires into consideration. She was pretty sure the envelope had contained a generous check to support ongoing expenses and needs at the orphanage.
She felt now that she had made the right choice in accepting this position. Gaston was more than knowledgeable. He was a good person, and she realized now that she could trust her future to him.
