From jimcaz@dircon.co.uk Tue Dec 10 13:25:08 1996
Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully etc., belong to Chris Carter, 1013 and
Fox TV. They are used without permission and no infringement of copyright
is intended. I do this for the love of it!
Rating: G
Classification: S
Summary: Mulder remembers a Christmas from happier times.
Keywords: Flashback/Mulder childhood story.
Special thanks to Jill, aka Vasaris the Fuzzy Dragon, for her invaluable
help with this story.
Comments are appreciated and should be sent to the above address.
Remembrance of Christmas Past 1/2
by Carol Gritton (jimcaz@dircon.co.uk)
December 24, 1996
Fox Mulder's apartment,
Alexandria, VA
Fox Mulder let himself into his apartment. He tossed his keys onto the
table and shrugged off his jacket, then switched on the reading lamp on his
desk. He flopped onto the couch and loosened his tie, too exhausted even
to remove it. It was Christmas Eve, but you would never have known it by
looking at the interior of this particular apartment. There were no
concessions to the festive season whatsoever. Fox's eyes fell on to the
small photograph of his sister that he had left on the coffee table that
morning. He studied it for a long while, then closed his eyes and let his
thoughts drift back to happier times.
2790 Vine Street
Chilmark, Mass.
December, 1972
Fox paused at the garden gate and stared at the Christmas tree that took
pride of place in the front window of his family home, its lights twinkling
in the darkened room like the stars in the sky. School was out now until
after the festivities and Fox was filled with that feeling of anticipation
and excitement common to children the world over at this particular time of
the year. At eleven years of age he no longer believed in Santa Claus, but
that didn't stop him enjoying Christmas any less.
Fox trudged up the path, tired after his appearance in the school
production of "Oliver" the night before. He had played the part of the
Artful Dodger and what with one thing and another he hadn't gone to bed
until late that night. He mounted the steps to the verandah and let
himself through the front door, which was adorned by a glossy dark green
holly wreath. He was immediately assaulted by the aromas that, in adult
life, he would always associate with Christmas - cinnamon, lemon and
orange. He shrugged off his heavy rucksack, which was full of the books he
needed to complete the holiday assignments that his class had been set, and
put it down by the front door. He could hear the strains of "Have Yourself
a Merry Little Christmas" emanating from the kitchen - his mother liked to
listen to the radio as she cooked and baked.
Fox strolled into the kitchen. "Hi , Mom," he said. His mother looked up
from the recipe book she was consulting.
"Hello, Fox - did you have a good day at school?"
"It was okay," he replied, heading for the fridge. He poured himself a
glass of milk then made for the tin that contained his mother's home baked
pecan cookies.
"Your sister had the last one," said Helen Mulder, watching her son out of
the corner of her eye. A look of annoyance crossed his face, and his
mother smiled. "I made some more - they're cooling on the rack over
there." Helen Mulder tipped her head in the direction of the far counter
and was rewarded with a grin from her son, who promptly crossed the room
and helped himself to three of the still warm cookies.
"Don't eat too many," warned his mother. "I don't want you spoiling your
appetite for dinner!"
She knew there was no chance of that - Fox ate like a horse and still had
room for more.
Fox settled himself at the table and munched on the cookies, then washed
them down with the glass of milk. He wiped the back of his hand across his
mouth - an action not unnoticed by his mother.
"Fox, don't do that - go wipe your face with a damp cloth," she instructed.
She watched him affectionately as he went obediently to the bathroom.
Honestly, she didn't know where he got these habits from.
Fox ambled back into the kitchen, eyeing the cookies once more.
"Don't even think about it, Fox William Mulder!" a small voice piped up.
Fox turned and met his sister's eyes.
"Shut up, squirt," he growled.
"I'm not a squirt!" protested Samantha Mulder.
"Are too!" retorted Fox. In desperation, Samantha turned to her mother.
"Mom, Fox called me a squirt!"
"Yes sweetheart, I heard. Fox, don't call your sister a squirt," ordered
Helen Mulder. Samantha promptly gave him a smile of triumph, and in
response Fox wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue.
"Fox stuck out his tongue," whined Samantha. Helen Mulder sighed.
"Fox, don't stick out your tongue," she admonished wearily.
"She started it!" protested Fox indignantly. Helen Mulder wiped her floury
hands on her apron.
"Okay, that's enough from both of you. Your father will be home later -
I'm sure he won't want to come back and find that World War Three has
broken out. I want you to go to your rooms and start your assignments."
This brought a groan from the pair of them. "Now." They both showed a
clean pair of heels - there was no arguing when their mother used that
tone.
Preparations for Christmas began early in the Mulder household - in October
when Helen Mulder made the Christmas pudding. Her family had originally
hailed from England and she continued the tradition of making her own
pudding just like her mother and grandmother before her. The pudding was
always richly laden with fruits - raisins, currants and sultanas, orange
and lemon peel, cherries and walnuts - all left to soak overnight in a good
measure of the finest brandy. More than once Fox had been caught helping
himself to the alcohol laden fruits, and earned himself a reprimand from
his long-suffering mother.
The children loved to watch her make the pudding, and waited eagerly for
the chance to drop in the silver charms that had been handed down through
Helen's family, give it all a stir and make a wish. Then the pudding was
steamed for hours, and the end result was a dark, gooey confection that on
Christmas day itself was ceremoniously carried to the table, having first
been decorated with a sprig of holly, doused in yet more brandy, then set
alight. This was best observed with the lights off, and once the alcohol
had all burned off the race was on to see who had a silver charm in their
serving of pudding.
>From October onwards, the house was always full of the most enticing aromas
as Helen cooked and baked ready for the festivities. There was the
Christmas cake, made in advance and stored until nearer the time when it
would be brought out of storage, marzipanned and iced then hand decorated
by Helen. She was an accomplished confectioner, and made all the fondant
icing herself which she then used to make the holly leaves, Christmas roses
and poinsettias that usually graced the cake. Besides their own cake, she
made cakes to sell at all the local Christmas fairs - it kept her busy
while her husband Bill was away working and the children were at school.
Bill Mulder spent much of the time away travelling for the State
Department, and she always looked forward to Christmas when the four of
them could be together. Her family was very important to Helen Mulder -
she had two children that often drove her to distraction but whom she
adored. Fox and Samantha fought like cat and dog, but if anyone was giving
Sam a hard time Fox was always there to defend her. When they weren't
fighting he was very protective of his kid sister, and more than one
hapless child had been sent packing with a bloody nose or a black eye
courtesy of one Fox Mulder.
With Bill away, the organising of the tree and presents was very much left
to Helen, and one of their favourite trips was the one to the market to
choose the Christmas tree. They always picked the biggest and the
bushiest, and had it delivered to the house. Once there, it was installed
in the window of the living room for all to see - decorated with coloured
tinsel, plain fairy lights, dried orange and lemon slices bound together
with cinnamon sticks, tartan bows and umpteen glass baubles and wooden
decorations, some of which they'd had since Fox was a baby. Samantha always
got to put the fairy on the top of the tree - Fox preferred to hang the
decorations.
The decorations didn't stop with the tree - swags of fir adorned the stairs
and the rail on the landing. Clusters of small apples, nuts and oranges
were placed where the swags were fastened to the wooden bannisters. As
they decorated they listened to carols and Christmas songs, sometimes
singing along with the ones that they all knew.
Gradually, a pile of gaily wrapped presents would appear beneath the tree.
Fox would save his pocket money to buy gifts, and if he didn't have enough
he earned the rest by doing chores for the neighbours, like sweeping their
paths or washing their cars. He usually gave his mother toiletries, such
as soap and talcum powder, but this year he'd gone for something different.
He'd saved for weeks to buy it, so he was keeping his fingers crossed that
she was going to like it. His father was awkward to buy for - Fox never
knew what to get for him. He always ended up asking his mother for ideas,
and more often than not she suggested handkerchiefs or socks. Fox reckoned
that his father must have had more pairs of socks than anyone else on the
Vineyard. Sam was easy to please - give her something for one of her
dolls, or a piece of jewellery and she was quite happy.
The opportunities for gift buying were limited on the Vineyard, so one of
the highlights of their festive preparations was Christmas shopping in
Boston. The whole family went, including Bill Mulder and they made a long
weekend of it, staying at a nice hotel and having dinner out in one of
Boston's better restaurants. The children's gifts would be decided in
advance, and Helen usually kept Fox and Samantha occupied while Bill
purchased their presents. Sam loved the hot roast chestnuts that could be
purchased from the street vendors that seemed to spring up on every street
corner, and Fox would always treat her to a small bag of them.
Helen Mulder glanced at the kitchen clock - Bill would be home any moment
now. She called up the stairs to Fox and Samantha, telling them to wash up
before they presented themselves for dinner, then waited for the thundering
of feet that signalled the race to get to the bathroom first. She looked
around with quiet satisfaction - everything was now ready for Christmas.
The last thing she had to do was to stuff the turkey that came from one of
the many farms that surrounded Chilmark, and prepare the vegetables.
Bill Mulder let himself into the house. Samantha, halfway down the stairs,
cried out "Dad's home!" and hurtled down the rest of the way to greet him.
Helen Mulder bustled out of the kitchen and greeted her husband with a kiss
on the cheek.
"Dinner won't be long," she said.
"Fine," replied Bill. He looked tired, and she noticed worry lines around
his eyes.
"Where's Fox?" he asked, as he and Samantha headed into the living room,
the little girl holding her father's hand.
"He's just washing up," replied Samantha, then she turned and yelled, "Fox!
Dad's home!"
Bill settled himself in his favourite armchair and Sam seated herself in
his lap. He was never overly demonstrative with his children, or with his
wife for that matter. When the adult Fox reflected on this facet of his
father's nature, he couldn't recall a single occasion when he had seen his
father kiss his mother. He always seemed to be a distant and aloof
character.
Bill and Samantha were sitting and talking quietly when Fox made his
entrance.
"Hi, Dad," said Fox.
"Fox," acknowledged his father. "I hope you and your sister have been
behaving yourselves while I've been away." The inference in his tone was
that they would have something to answer for if they hadn't. At that
moment, Helen came into the room and said, "Of course they've been behaving
themselves, Bill!" thus saving Fox from having to lie.
"I'm glad to hear it," replied his father, turning once again to his son.
"How's school?"
What he really meant was, "How are your grades?"
Bill Mulder expected a lot from his eldest child - Fox was a bright boy,
and Bill had made sure that he knew what was expected of him. This had
caused some tension between Bill and Helen, who thought that her husband
pushed their son too hard.
"It's for his own good," Bill would always reply. But Fox didn't need to
be pushed - he had a natural intelligence and an insatiable appetite for
knowledge.
"School's okay," replied Fox. "I came top in Math and English last week."
"Very good," replied his father. "Just make sure you keep it up."
"Yes, Dad," said Fox, who had never brought home a less than perfect school
report in his life.
Fox just wished that his father was there more often when he took part in
school activities, like playing on the baseball team and appearing in the
school play. His mother always attended these events whether it was on
behalf of Fox or Sam - she was very proud of both her children and saw it
as her duty to support them in whatever they were doing. Fox could count
on one hand the number of times his father had turned up to support him
during his school career.
"Well, are you all going to sit here talking, or are we going to eat?"
asked Helen.
"Eat!" grinned Fox, springing up and dashing to the table. Helen shook her
head - he was *always* hungry!
"Hurry up!" called Fox as the others made their way to the table. "I'm
starving!"
Helen waited until they were all seated at the table before serving the
beef casserole. She handed each of them a plate and told them to help
themselves to vegetables. Even this simple task caused dissent.
"Fox has more potatoes than me," whined Samantha.
"That's because I'm older than you," retorted Fox.
"So?" came the whiney voice again. There was only one way to settle this.
"Fox, give your sister one of your potatoes," said Bill Mulder.
"Why?" demanded Fox. "She won't eat it."
"Fox, just do as you're told," replied his father. Helen tensed - she
hated it when there was conflict between her son and her husband. She'd
noticed how Fox had become more defiant of his father recently. She tried
not to let it worry her - didn't all children go through a phase like that
at one time or another?
Fox glared at Samantha, then speared a potato - the smallest one on his
plate - and passed it across the table.
"I want a bigger one!" whined Samantha, pouting.
"Sweetheart, you got what you asked for, just be content with that," said
Helen, anxious to avoid any more argument.
"But...."
"Samantha, eat your dinner." Bill Mulder's word was final. Samantha
picked up her fork and started eating.
They managed to get through the meal without any further ado - Fox helped
his mother to clear away the dishes then asked permission to watch the
television, which she gladly gave. There was a comedy show on that both
the children liked to watch, so that precluded any argument about who
wanted to watch what.
Bill had retired to the study - he had some paperwork that needed doing
before he returned to work after the holidays. Best to do it now while the
children were quiet - there wouldn't be much opportunity over the following
two days.
The rest of the evening passed quietly, rather like the lull before the
storm. The next day was Christmas Eve, when the real excitement would
begin. There would be last minute preparations to take care of, and
friends dropping by to exchange the compliments of the season. With all
that in mind, it was early to bed for Fox and Samantha.
December 24
Helen Mulder rose early - she had things to do in the kitchen. She left
Bill sleeping, then went to wash and dress in the bathroom so as not to
disturb him. On her way across the landing, she took a peek into Fox and
Samantha's rooms - they were both sound asleep. The first thing Helen did
on reaching the kitchen was to start the coffee, and make a batter for
pancakes. Once the smell of the coffee reached Fox's room, she knew he
would be downstairs complaining that, as usual, he was starving. Best to
have some pancakes ready then!
Helen was glad to find that her husband was in a better mood that morning.
He had been tired the night before and fallen asleep as soon as his head
touched the pillow. There had been no opportunity to talk therefore. Not
that he spoke much about his work - most of it was classified. Bill would
ring her every other day when he was away, and he always seemed to be in a
different place. It was nice to have him home, even if it was only for a
short time.
After Bill came Fox, still clad in his pyjamas and with his hair sticking
out at all angles. He gave a yawn, quickly covering his mouth with his
hand. He still looked rather bleary eyed even though he'd had a good
night's sleep. At least Samantha hadn't crept into his room - not that he
minded when she did, but after the way she had annoyed him yesterday she
wouldn't have been very welcome.
"Pancakes, Fox?" asked his mother.
"Yes please," he replied with a big grin.
"No need to ask you how many!" smiled Helen, piling four onto his plate.
"Help yourself to syrup."
Fox doused the pancakes with blueberry syrup then tucked in. His mother
placed a glass of milk by the side of his plate as he ate. Fox mumbled his
thanks - he'd been taught never to speak with his mouth full.
Finally, Samantha joined her brother at the table, her long dark hair
tousled and her eyes just as bleary as her brother's had been.
"Goodness me, what a pair of sleepyheads you two are this morning!"
exclaimed their mother. "Maybe I should put you to bed earlier tonight!"
Neither Fox nor Sam saw the big grin on her face.
"No!" they chorused in unison. "It's Christmas Eve!"
"You two have finally surfaced then!" Bill Mulder's cheerful observation
caused Fox to look up in surprise.
"I think Fox was tired after his performance in the school play, weren't
you dear?" said Helen.
Fox nodded, his mouth full of pancake. He swallowed, then said, "We didn't
get back until half past ten, did we Mom?"
"No," she replied.
"Did the play go well?" asked Bill.
"Fox made a very good Artful Dodger," declared Helen admiringly. She
rested a hand on her son's thick hair and smiled affectionately at him,
making him blush. He hated it when she did that. Fox was at the age when
children shy away from the hugs and kisses of their mothers - male children
at least.
"And what about you?" asked Bill, addressing Samantha.
"I was an elf," replied the little girl. Samantha's class had performed a
pantomime written by one of her teachers.
"Samantha was very good, too," said Helen proudly. "You remembered all
your lines, didn't you sweetheart?" Samantha nodded, smiling.
"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't be there for either of you," replied Bill.
"I took some photographs," said Helen. "I didn't want you to miss out."
How she wished he would make the effort, just once, to be there for his
children - to offer his support and encouragement. There were many ways of
showing love, but Bill didn't seem to be aware of them. Oh, he loved Fox
and Samantha, there was no doubt about that, but it was in his own way.
Helen just wished that sometimes he would be a little more demonstrative in
his affection.
Christmas eve had dawned damp, dull and misty, which meant that Fox and Sam
would be confined to the house all day. After breakfast, and after the two
youngsters had made their beds they did some work on their assignments.
Fox had a little desk in his room that faced out across the street, not
that he could see much out there today what with the mist. When the
weather was clear, he liked nothing more than just sitting there and
enjoying the view. But that wasn't the case today. Today the desk was
covered in text books and Fox worked on his history assignment. More
enticing smells wafted up from the kitchen, disturbing his concentration
and making his stomach rumble in anticipation of the goodies to come.
Samantha's room was at the back of the house and overlooked the surrounding
farmland. In the summer she liked to watch the cows and their calves as
they munched on the grass in the fields. She too had a little desk that
she now sat at, writing slowly and labouriously in her large, childish
script. She had made a Christmas card for her brother, and now she was
just putting the finishing touches to it. On the front was a colourful
rendition of Santa Claus, and inside she had written, "To Fox, Merry
Christmas, love from Samantha."
The children worked until lunch time, when the books went away and they
were called down to lunch. There was a hearty soup, with home made bread
spread thickly with butter from a local farm. Fox tucked in as if he
hadn't eaten for a week instead of a few hours previously. He pushed his
empty bowl away and turned to his father.
"Dad, can we play a game of chess this afternoon?"
Bill Mulder smiled. "Sure, Fox," he replied, knowing full well that he was
setting himself up for defeat. Fox was an exceptional chess player, and
his father had never managed to beat him.
"Great!" beamed the young boy. "May I leave the table, please?"
"Where are you going?" asked his mother.
"To set up the board," replied Fox, already halfway out of the door.
Samantha elected to help her mother prepare for the steady stream of
visitors that were expected to call later. Helen had baked a large batch
of mince pies for the guests, and Samantha was busy dusting them with icing
sugar while her mother stood at the hob keeping careful watch on the big
pan of mulled wine that she was preparing. The punch bowl and wine glasses
in their little silver holders stood ready on the dining room table.
It was late afternoon when the first guests - the Bensons from next door -
arrived. Samantha handed out the pies while Bill ladled the mulled wine
into the cups. The Bensons were followed by the Harpers, who came with
their children - Joe, who was Fox's best friend, and his younger sister
Beth who was eight. The two boys had a lot in common - most notable was
the fact that they both had pesky younger sisters. During the holidays,
Fox and Joe did their utmost to give their sisters the slip - the two
little girls always wanted to join in their brothers' escapades.
Soon the dining room was full of people and echoing with chatter and
laughter. The children tore around the house squealing and shrieking -
Beth was chasing Fox with a piece of mistletoe and he was trying
desperately to avoid her clutches. There was no way he was going to be
kissed by a girl - especially one that was only eight years old!
Helen Mulder surveyed the crowded room trying to see just who was there.
The Thomas's, the McLarens, Ned Bowen from across the way, Nancy Marshall -
all the friends she would have expected to see.
"Delicious pies, Helen," said Ned, making her smile.
"Thank you," she replied warmly. She made a note to wrap some for him to
take home.
"Helen - you must give me the recipe for this pastry. It's so light!" said
Nancy.
"Helen - the mulled wine is lovely!" That from Jessie McLaren. Very soon
Helen's head was reeling with all the compliments that were coming her way.
She looked across the room, seeing Bill deep in conversation with Ethan
Thomas and Bob McLaren. Suddenly all three men roared with laughter - it
was so good to see Bill having fun again. Helen gave a sigh of
satisfaction - this was exactly how she liked it, surrounded by her family
and their friends.
Her pleasant thoughts were interrupted by a panting Fox, with Samantha, Joe
and Beth in tow, asking if they could have a drink.
"There's juice or soda - you'll find them both in the fridge," replied
Helen. "Help yourselves - and don't make a mess!" She gave an
affectionate smile as they tore off to the kitchen with Fox still trying to
dodge Beth's advances.
"Fox is such a nice boy." Helen turned, and saw Jessie McLaren smiling
wistfully. She had lost her only child at birth - a son, who would have
been Fox's age.
"Thank you," replied Helen proudly.
"He has such lovely manners," said Jessie. "He helped Bob stack all the
firewood for the winter - he said he was saving to buy a special Christmas
present." Bob McLaren had given Fox five dollars for helping him - Fox had
never felt so wealthy. He had rushed home and stashed the money in the
little tin he had hidden in his closet under a loose floorboard.
"He's a good boy," replied Helen affectionately. "Most of the time!"
"Aren't they all!" laughed Jessie.
"Mom - is there anything to eat?" Fox's plaintive enquiry made her smile.
"Look - there're mince pies on the table," she replied. Fox pulled a face.
"How about a sandwich?" suggested Helen, and at this Fox's eyes lit up.
She headed for the kitchen with her ever hungry son in tow.
"What would you like?" she asked.
"Can we have ham sandwiches?" asked Fox, pointing to the large, clove
studded ham that sat on the counter. Helen had cooked it the night before.
"Oh, Fox - I wanted to save that for tomorrow."
"Please?" One look at her son's large brown puppy dog eyes and she could
deny him nothing.
"Oh alright!" she relented. "You'd better get me some bread then."
The large platter of sandwiches disappeared in no time, quickly followed by
an equal number of mince pies. A whole carton of orange juice had also
vanished and Helen was thankful that she'd had the presence of mind to lay
in extra. No-one could ever accuse Helen Mulder of not being a good
hostess.
End of Part 1
From jimcaz@dircon.co.uk Tue Dec 10 13:26:41 1996
See Part 1 for disclaimers etc.
Remembrance of Christmas Past 2/2
by Carol Gritton (jimcaz@dircon.co.uk)
She rejoined the party in the dining room, after first checking that the
four children were not getting up to any mischief. They had taken
themselves off into the living room and it had suddenly gone very quiet -
she found them playing a game of Monopoly. Helen knew that if there was
any mischief, Joe Harper was bound to be the instigator. He was a nice
boy, and Fox's best friend, but he did have this habit of leading the pair
of them into trouble. This fact didn't bother her as much as it bothered
Bill, who had forbidden Fox to see Joe on more than one occasion. He
didn't want any son of his turning into a juvenile delinquent. Helen had
thought that a bit strong and had told Bill so, but he had been adamant.
But Fox - being Fox - had simply waited until his father had gone off on
one of his State Department jaunts and taken up where he and Joe had left
off.
"I was just coming to find you," said Bill as she walked into the room.
"I was in the kitchen making sandwiches for the children," she replied.
"Where are they now?" asked her husband.
"They're in the living room playing Monopoly," answered Helen.
"Let's hope they can't get into any trouble doing that!" remarked Bill, who
hadn't exactly been overjoyed when his wife had told him that she had
invited the Harpers.
"The children will be company for Fox and Samantha," Helen had explained.
"You know they'll be bored stiff otherwise. Anyway, I like Emily and David
Harper. I can't very well invite the two of them without their children
being welcome!"
"I suppose not," Bill had replied grudgingly.
"Maybe I should just go and check," said Bill, and Helen touched her hand
to his arm lightly.
"Just leave them, Bill. They're playing quietly. If you go in there,
they'll think you don't trust them." His expression clearly implied that
he didn't, but he bowed to his wife's wishes. After all, it was Christmas
and it was time he started to let Fox have some responsibility. He would
pursue that matter further in the New Year. The issue closed, the hosts
returned to their guests.
Emily and David Harper were in discussion with Nancy Marshall and the
McLarens. When she saw Helen Mulder re-enter the room, Emily excused
herself to speak to her hostess.
"Helen - I just wanted to say "thank you" for inviting us. The house looks
lovely - did you do all this?"
"Thank you - yes, I did, with help from Fox and Samantha," replied Helen.
"They both helped with the tree, and Fox helped with the swags."
"Ah, Fox - he's a lovely boy, Helen. You must be very proud of him," said
Emily. She had a soft spot for young Fox Mulder. He had such a winning
way with him, and those lovely eyes of his... Yes - Emily Harper was very
much taken with him.
"I am," replied Helen. "But I think I should thank you for letting him
spend so much time at your house. You must feel like he's moved in!"
Emily Harper laughed. "Nonsense - it's a pleasure to have him."
"Well, don't be afraid to send him home once in a while!" smiled Helen.
Back in the living room, the Monopoly game was in full swing.
"What are you getting for Christmas, Fox?" asked Joe.
Fox shrugged. "Dunno," he replied, concentrating carefully on the game and
making sure that his sister wasn't about to cheat. When it came to games,
or anything remotely competitive, Fox hated to lose. He always played to
win. "What about you?"
"I think I'm getting a new bike," answered Joe. "What would you like for
Christmas?"
"Stratego. I wanted it for my birthday but I didn't get it," replied Fox.
"I want a Barbie doll," piped up Samantha.
"Who asked you?" demanded Fox.
"I don't want a silly doll," said Beth scornfully. "Dolls are stupid."
"No they aren't," retorted Samantha. "What do you want, then?"
Beth gave a shrug. "Anything, as long as it isn't a doll," she replied.
"Maybe some new jeans and sneakers, and a new baseball mitt!"
"Why do you always want to join in with the boys?" complained Samantha.
"Because it's more fun!" grinned Beth, whose idea of heaven was to be
dressed in the aforementioned jeans and sneakers and covered in dirt. Her
mother despaired of her ever having a ladylike demeanour - no matter how
hard she tried, Emily Harper found it virtually impossible to get her
daughter into anything remotely resembling a dress. Even now, Beth was
wearing trousers and a sweater. She had refused to leave the house if her
mother tried to make her wear a dress.
Unbeknown to Fox, who was expending all his concentration on the game in
hand, Beth had inched herself closer and closer to him. Suddenly, and like
lightening, she made her move and landed a smacker on his cheek, dangling
the now tatty piece of mistletoe above his head. Fox, blushing furiously,
let out an angry yell and toppled sideways with Beth sprawled on top of
him. He wiped frantically at his cheek as if she'd infected him with
something unsavoury, whilst trying to push her off with his free hand. In
the meantime, Joe and Samantha giggled hysterically.
Fox's yell had brought Helen rushing into the room, and she was greeted by
the sight of her son pinned to the floor beneath Beth Harper.
"What on Earth's going on?" she asked. At the sound of Mrs. Mulder's
voice, Beth relinquished her hold on Fox and sat up.
"She kissed me!" cried Fox in disgust, and Helen had to stifle a laugh of
her own. She'd never seen her son in such a state of high dudgeon.
"For goodness sake, Fox - it was only a kiss! It won't kill you!" she
exclaimed. That wasn't the most helpful thing to say.
"It's not funny!" he yelled, his expression even darker.
"Hush, Fox - you don't want your father to hear you," said Helen. The last
thing she wanted was Bill coming in and causing a scene.
"Beth kissed Fox! Beth kissed Fox!" chanted Samantha in a sing-song voice.
"Fox got caught under the mistletoe!"
"Shut up!" Fox yelled at his sister, and Helen could see tears of rage and
humiliation shimmering in his eyes. She turned to her youngest.
"Samantha, stop that," said Helen with quiet authority. Then she turned to
Beth. "Beth, I think you should give me the mistletoe, please." Helen
held out her hand and Beth gave the offending object to her. "Thank you.
Now I think you should apologise to Fox." Beth looked down at Fox, who was
still sitting on the floor and glaring up at her.
"Sorry Fox," mumbled Beth, trying to look contrite but not quite
succeeding.
Helen looked down at her son. "Satisfied? Now, why don't you get on with
your game?" With that she left them to it, walking out and trying not to
laugh.
The guests trickled away, and soon the house was back to normal. Helen
cleared the empty glasses and plates away then ran the vacuum cleaner over
the floor to pick up any stray crumbs that might have fallen. Fox had gone
to take a bath - Helen had insisted on it after the running around he had
done that afternoon. She did the dishes while Bill and Samantha watched
the television.
When Fox had finished his bath, he came down in his pyjamas and sat with
his father while Sam had her bath.
"Are you looking forward to tomorrow, Fox?" Bill asked.
"Yes," replied Fox, a big smile lighting up his face. At that moment, Bill
thought how much Fox looked like his mother. They shared the same dark
brown hair and eyes. He was immensely proud of his son, but didn't know
how to show it. It wasn't in his nature, just as it hadn't been in his
father's before him. For men of Bill's era, it wasn't the done thing to
show your emotions. Bill could only hope that come the day that Fox had
children, the situation would be different - that men would not be afraid
to show their feelings.
Men don't cry - wasn't that how it went? Bill Mulder had found himself
wanting to cry quite often of late. When he saw what they were doing, how
those poor souls were suffering.... it was more than he could bear
sometimes. Bill had become disillusioned with his work - so much so that
they were beginning to doubt his commitment to the project.
<"The Project"> thought Bill bitterly. Such a grandiose name for something
so... what? Which word could adequately describe what they were doing?
They had such an unwavering belief in what they were doing - telling
themselves that it was for the good of mankind.... Poor deluded fools.
Of course, it was difficult for Bill Mulder. His work was classified - top
secret. He couldn't discuss it with anyone, not even his wife. He had
tried to push his worries and misgivings to the back of his mind so that he
could enjoy Christmas with his family, but they kept surfacing when he
least expected it. He had seen Helen's worried look when he had come home
yesterday, so today he had tried to make more of an effort to be cheerful.
"Dad?" The sound of Fox's voice penetrated his thoughts.
"I'm sorry son - what did you say?" Bill smiled at his eldest child. Fox
regarded his father oddly. He had been miles away.
"Nothing - it doesn't matter," replied Fox. He turned his attention back
to the TV and waited for his mother and Sam to join them.
"Have you hung up your stockings?" asked Helen as Fox and Sam got ready for
bed. It was ten o'clock and they were both still wide awake. The two
children nodded. They had hung their stockings on the ends of their beds,
hoping to find them full of goodies in the morning. "Samantha - are you
going to put out a mince pie and some mulled wine for Santa?"
"What about the reindeers?" asked the little girl.
"Don't be stupid!" snorted Fox derisively. "Reindeer don't eat mince
pies!"
"Fox," said Helen in a warning tone. She turned back to Samantha. "I
saved some carrots - you can leave those if you like." Samantha nodded,
then made a face at her brother, who turned his back on her in disgust.
Samantha duly left the mince pie, a glass of mulled wine and three carrots
by the fireplace.
"Santa will see them there, won't he?" she asked. "They'll be right in
front of him when he comes down the chimney."
"Yes, sweetheart. Now say goodnight to Daddy, and then I'll come up and
tuck you in." Samantha did just that, then climbed the stairs to her
bedroom. Helen called to Fox, who was having a last glass of milk before
bed.
"Fox - come and say goodnight." Fox duly appeared in the living room
doorway, a milk moustache decorating his upper lip, much to his mother's
amusement.
"Goodnight, Dad," he said.
"Goodnight, son," replied Bill Mulder.
"Fox, you should wipe your face over before you get into bed. You've got
milk around your mouth," said Helen.
"Yes Mom," he answered, then he dashed up the stairs with his mother
following some way behind.
Fox could hear his mother singing softly to Samantha - "Scarlet Ribbons."
Sam had some scarlet ribbons - Fox had given them to her for her birthday.
She often asked for a song or a story to send her to sleep. Tonight her
mother had read her "The Night Before Christmas" and sung "Mr. Sandman" as
well as "Scarlet Ribbons." Helen hoped that she didn't have to go through
the whole repertoire before her daughter fell asleep.
Helen used to sing to Fox once, when he was small. He would curl up
against her, and she would sing him "Puff The Magic Dragon," or his all
time favourite - "When You Wish Upon A Star" from "Pinocchio." Now he was
too old, and Helen missed having that moment of intimacy with her son.
Finally, Sam's eyelids drooped and she fell asleep. Helen Mulder leaned
over and kissed her daughter's forehead, then pulled the door to as she
left the room. She looked in on Fox and found him reading the latest
"Superman" comic.
"Another ten minutes, Fox," she said softly.
"Okay, Mom," he replied, and then she kissed the top of his head - that was
as close as he would allow her now that he was eleven.
"I love you, Fox," said Helen.
"Love you too, Mom. Goodnight."
"Goodnight dear."
Helen Mulder joined her husband in the living room.
"Is Samantha asleep?" he asked.
"Yes - Fox is still reading. I gave him ten minutes."
"I'll get Samantha's present out then. Are all the others here?" Bill
rose and went to inspect the pile of presents arranged about the base of
the tree.
"Yes - they're all there," replied Helen. Packages of all shapes and sizes
lay before her tired eyes, all carefully and lovingly wrapped with little
name tags attached so that the right present went to the right person. She
looked up as Bill came back into the room with their daughter's gift. It
had been a devil of a job to wrap and in the end Helen had made the best of
a bad job. In the absence of knowing where to put it, Bill propped the
mystery gift against an armchair.
It was almost midnight before Bill and Helen Mulder retired to bed. Helen
had stuffed the turkey, then prepared some of the vegetables in advance so
that she could enjoy the present opening the next morning without
interruption. She loved to see the expressions on the children's faces as
they opened their gifts.
December 25
Fox was woken by someone shaking him. He opened one eye and saw his
sister.
"It's Christmas Day!" cried Sam excitedly. Fox immediately sat up and
threw back his covers. He saw that Sam was clutching her stocking, so he
scrabbled to the end of his bed and retrieved his own. Sam joined him on
the bed and together they went through the contents. It was mostly
candies, with a couple of tangerines each, a pink sugar mouse for Sam and a
white one for Fox.
"Let's see if Santa's been!" Samantha was almost beside herself with
excitement, and her enthusiasm was catching.
"Okay!" grinned Fox. "Last one down the stairs is a cissie!"
Helen Mulder thought her stairs had been invaded by a herd of elephants.
She awoke with a start to hear, "Wait for me!" in Samantha's frantic tones.
Beside her , Bill stirred.
"I take it they're up," he mumbled.
"Yes," replied Helen, already swinging her legs to the floor.
"He's been, he's been!" Samantha's excited squealing floated up the stairs
to her parents' room. Helen came down the stairs and glided into the
living room.
"Look, Mommy - Santa's been!" The little girl pointed to the empty glass
and the plate with the few crumbs, and the non-existent carrots that had
been safely returned to the vegetable rack in the kitchen.
"Can we open the presents now?" she asked impatiently.
"Well, let's just wait for Daddy," said Helen, who also found herself
caught up in the excitement. At that, Sam ran out into the hall.
"Hurry up, Dad - we want to open the presents!" she yelled up the stairs.
"Alright, I'm coming!" chuckled Bill Mulder, starting his descent of the
stairs. Samantha waited at the bottom for him, then took his hand and
practically dragged him into the living room.
"Right - who wants to go first?" asked Bill.
"Me!" chorused Fox and Sam together.
"I think Samantha should go first," said Fox generously. Helen Mulder
smiled.
"That's very kind of you Fox," she said. "Isn't it, Samantha?" The little
girl nodded.
The presents were arranged in order, starting with the small ones first,
then ending with the main gift. Helen reached out to the pile and withdrew
a package, handing it to her daughter. Samantha tore feverishly at the
pretty wrapping paper decorated with fat snowmen, to reveal a Barbie doll.
Sam squealed with delight, as Fox handed her his gift. Again she tore at
the paper, not so expertly wrapped this time, revealing two outfits for the
Barbie doll. Overcome, Sam threw her arms around her brother's neck and
gave him a hug.
"Open mine, Fox," she said breathlessly and she handed him a package
wrapped in creased paper. No doubt she'd had trouble with it. Fox tore
the paper off and found two paperback books that he had been wanting.
"Thanks Sam," he said warmly. Next up was a gift from his parents. Helen
handed him a flat, rectangular shaped box. Fox shook it, hearing it rattle
then attacked the paper, getting it off in record time.
"Stratego!" he cried. This more than made up for the disappointment of not
receiving the game for his birthday. On it went, until the only gifts
left to open were those from Sam and Fox to their parents and the main
gifts from Bill and Helen.
Bill lifted Samantha's last gift and handed it to her. It was big, and
awkwardly wrapped because of its shape. That didn't deter Samantha - she
tore the paper off with gusto to reveal a shiny blue bicycle. For once,
the little girl was speechless. Then it was Fox's turn. His father handed
him a long, heavy box - it was almost too heavy for Fox to hold. He set it
on the floor and proceeded to unwrap it. The box was just plain brown
cardboard. Fox opened one end and peered in. His eyes almost fell out of
his head. "A telescope!" he whispered in awe. He'd always wanted a
telescope.
"There's this too," added his mother, handing him another package - a flat
one this time. He opened it and found a set of star charts. "Wow!"
breathed Fox. In his opinion, this was the best present he had ever had
and he couldn't wait to set it up.
Lastly, it was time for Fox and Samantha to present their gifts to their
mother and father. Fox reached beneath the tree and retrieved the last
remaining unopened packages. He quickly read the labels, and handed two of
the packages to his sister.
"This is for you, Dad," said Sam, and Bill took the gift from her. He made
a great show of trying to figure out what it was before tearing off the
paper to reveal two pairs of black socks and some white cotton
handkerchiefs with his initial embroidered in one corner. Bill gave his
daughter a warm smile and said, "Thank you Samantha. These will come in
very useful." Then he put them to one side to see what Sam had for her
mother. The little girl handed over the gift with its not so neat
wrapping. Helen read the tag - it said, "To Mommy, Merry Christmas, Love
from Samantha," and she'd drawn a little snowman underneath.
"That's lovely, dear - thank you very much."
"Fox helped me with the spelling," said Samantha, eager to give credit
where credit was due. "Aren't you going to open it?" Helen chuckled at
her daughter's impatience and tore off the pretty gift wrap. Inside, she
found a box containing three lily of the valley fragrance soaps. She
sniffed deeply - this was her favourite scent.
"Fox helped me to choose," said Samantha. "He said they were your
favourite." Helen also suspected that Fox had given her something towards
the cost because the soaps were a good quality make.
"They're lovely, sweetheart," said Helen warmly. She gathered her youngest
child into her arms and gave her a hug and a kiss.
"You can open mine now," said Fox, handing a neatly wrapped package to his
father. Bill removed the paper, expecting to find yet more socks and
hankies. He was pleasantly surprised to find a set of four paperback books
by his favourite author.
"Thank you, son - I'll take these with me to read on the road." Fox gave
his father a slightly embarrassed smile, pleased that his gift had gone
down so well. Last, but not least, Fox handed the last of the gifts to his
mother. The small box had been carefully wrapped in snowflake covered
paper. He waited with bated breath as she opened it.
Inside the paper was a red velveteen box. Helen glanced at her son, then
slowly opened the box. It was lined with white satin, and on the satin
nestled a small silver locket on a chain. The front of the locket was
engraved with tiny flowers. Helen took in a breath and lifted the locket
out carefully so that she could fully appreciate it.
"Oh Fox - it's beautiful!" she said softly. Tears filled her eyes as she
thought of her son scraping the money together to buy such a lovely gift.
"Come here."
Helen opened her arms - she wanted to hug and kiss the son that she loved
so much. Fox hesitated for just a moment, and then he let himself be
enveloped in her arms, his head resting against her breast while she held
him and stroked his hair.
With the exchange of gifts over and done with, it was time for breakfast.
At the same time, Helen put the turkey in the oven. It was a large bird
and would take some time to cook. After breakfast, it was time to examine
the Christmas presents in detail.
Christmas Day had dawned bright and crisp after the damp mists of the
previous day. With this being the case, Samantha badgered her mother to
let her go out and try her new bicycle for size.
"Alright - but only outside the house. I don't want you going off
anywhere." A deal was struck and one well-wrapped up little girl pedalled
up and down the sidewalk to her hearts content.
Fox, in the meantime, had taken the telescope up to his bedroom. He wanted
it set up by the window so that he could look out on a clear night and
study the stars. His father helped him to set it up, and explained how to
use it. When Fox looked back in later years, he recalled that occasion as
the last time he and his father had spent any time together.
"We'll catch a weather report later," said Bill. "I think we may be lucky
and have a clear night tonight." Fox couldn't wait.
The aromas coming out of the kitchen were delicious. The roasting turkey,
the steaming Christmas pudding - they all conspired to make Fox's stomach
growl. He looked at his little bedside clock and hoped that it wasn't long
until dinner then went back to studying the star charts. In the dining
room, Helen was busy setting the table. A red table cloth with a pretty
centrepiece gave it a festive appearance. Special napkins with embroidered
holly leaves and poinsettias were placed by each setting. As she went
about this task, she checked the time. Soon it would be time to go and
change.
It was a tradition in the Mulder house to dress smartly for Christmas
dinner. Not suit and tie smart, but smart casual. That meant no jeans,
sweats or T-shirts. Helen got herself ready first, then called Samantha in
to change. The little girl was hot and sweaty, so she had a quick wash
first then Helen brushed her daughter's long dark hair until it shone.
Then she dressed it into a thick plait that hung almost to her waist. By
the time she had finished, Samantha looked every inch the young lady in her
dark red velvet dress with its lacy collar, white tights and black patent
pumps.
Fox and his father were already waiting in the living room. Fox wore a
smart pair of trousers and shirt with a thin sweater over the top. Bill
was dressed almost identically to his son and puffed on a cigarette while
they waited for Helen to call them to the dinner table.
The call came and there was a mad dash with Fox at the head of it as usual.
The table positively groaned under the weight of all the food. Helen had
set the turkey in front of Bill, so that he could carve. Dishes were
dotted about the table - Fox could see roast potatoes, carrots, candied
yams, green beans, broccoli and a small dish of home made cranberry sauce
that was full of fat, juicy cranberries.
Bill handed everyone a plate laden with turkey and stuffing, then it was an
orderly help yourself to the vegetables. Fox drenched his plate in gravy
made from the juices in the roasting pan and a little flour. As it was
Christmas, Helen had opened a bottle of wine to go with the meal. This was
the only occasion that the children were allowed to touch alcohol. She
gave Samantha no more than a thimbleful and Fox not a lot more. Then they
all raised their glasses as Bill proposed a toast to a "Merry Christmas."
Fox was pleased to see that his mother was wearing the locket. It went
very well with the black top that she was wearing. She smelled nice, too -
his father had given her some perfume for Christmas. He even thought that
Sam looked nice - the colour of her dress really suited her. And his
father - well, he was his father. Fox and Bill had spent a pleasant couple
of hours together going over the intricacies of the telescope - that was
the last time they would be so close.
It was time for the procession of the Christmas pudding. Helen had set it
on a plate to rest and now she gave it a liberal dousing with Bill's best
brandy. She stuck a sprig of holly in the top, then ignited the brandy
with a match. She then carried it triumphantly into the dining room,
setting it down on the table. The flames died once the alcohol had burned
off and then Helen served the pudding with cream.
Fox's tooth crunched down on something hard. "Ow!" he cried, then stuck
his finger into his mouth and pulled out a small silver object. "I've got
one! I've got a lucky charm!"
"Then you must make a wish," said Helen. Fox studied the little silver
threepenny bit, then closed his eyes and made a wish.
"What did you wish for?" asked Samantha.
"He can't tell you, sweetheart - the wish won't come true," smiled Helen.
After dinner, they all retired to the living room. It was starting to get
dark, so Bill pulled the curtains giving the room a cosy feel. Fox and
Samantha sat on the floor and played a game of Stratego, while Helen looked
through a new gardening book that Bill had given her. Bill, meanwhile, sat
in his armchair thinking about his work, his family and the way his life
was turning out.
Helen prepared a light supper of ham and turkey sandwiches, mince pies and
Christmas cake. Even Fox was hard pushed to eat more than two sandwiches -
he was still full from the huge dinner he'd eaten. He did, however, manage
a small piece of cake. Later, they all sat and watched a Christmas show on
the TV before Samantha declared that she was tired and was going to bed.
Fox decided to go up too, but he wasn't going to bed. He wanted to try out
his new telescope.
A few hours later, Helen found him slumped beside it, asleep. She shook
him gently to wake him, then guided him to his bed, tucking him in as if he
were a small child again. Fox fell asleep again almost immediately. He
looked so young and innocent lying there and Helen couldn't resist running
a hand over his soft hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Goodnight, Fox. Sweet dreams." Fox muttered something in his sleep, then
turned over settling himself beneath the covers. All was right with the
world.
That was the last Christmas they spent together as a family - by the
following one Samantha was gone, spirited out of her bed by forces unknown
right before her terrified brother's eyes. There was no tree, with a pile
of gaily wrapped presents beneath its boughs, no carols, no Christmas
songs. Their lives had disintegrated over the course of one night. The
love his mother had had for his father had turned to cold, cold hate. Fox
was adrift in a world he didn't understand.
Present Day
Fox heard a distant clock chime midnight. It was Christmas Day. He held
the tumbler of Scotch in one hand and the picture of Samantha in the other.
He lifted the glass slightly in a toast to his sister as the silent tears
slid down his cheeks and splashed onto his shirt. It was going to be
another lonely Christmas.
The End
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