A Letter to the Giftmaker - Chapter 12

A warm, satisfied sluggishness settled over Jo. He sighed deeply and sunk into the wooden chair. Not even the wobble from the uneven floor bothered him. The dinner at the tavern had been the most delicious meal he had ever eaten. Even the salad had been amazing, and not just a leafy mess with blobs of overpowering dressing.

The clock above the kitchen door chimed. Somehow, over two hours had passed. Sometime after the first hour, the patrons had stopped coming over to thank Edwin for his gift to Carol. He'd been so relaxed, he hadn't noticed how long they'd lingered here, talking.

Edwin pushed his chair out and stood straight. "We should get back to the inn."

"Wait!" Jo pulled out the boxes with the pen and gloves. "We should exchange gifts first."

"Gifts?" Edwin asked. "I didn't..."

"No worries, mate. Open mine." He slid the black cardboard box across the table.

Harriet leaned forward, and raised an eyebrow. Her eyes, normally darting around, settled on the black box. She leaned forward so far that her chair scraped as it slid back.

Edwin licked his lips and adjusted the cuff of his shirt. His hands trembled slightly as he carefully lifted the top of the box off. He reached in and slowly pulled out the pen.

"I know it's not much but I figured you liked to write because of the letter and thought you might need a pen on this trip and so–"

"It's a lovely gift." Edwin smiled and his flint-colored eyes softened.

Jo felt his ears turn red. He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's nothing." He quickly handed the other box to Harriet. "Here, you open yours now."

She rubbed her hands together and then lifted the lid off. Her hand pressed against her chest as she gasped. Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes when she held up the blue gloves. "Wow." She looked at Jo, her smile glowing. "You noticed I didn't have gloves?"

Jo nodded and crossed his arms. "It's just something practical."

She slid the glove over her left hand. "It even matches my coat."

Edwin was hunched over. His fingers wound around themselves, then untangled. "I didn't get either of you anything."

"It's not Christmas yet," Jo said quickly so that Edwin didn't feel bad. "Besides, we both know you need to get your letter to the Giftmaker, then you'll have plenty to share."

"Yeah, share..." Something was off with Edwin. He rubbed at his chest as if someone had punched him.

"I have something to share," Harriet said softly. She lifted up the paper bag from the baker's. "He gave me three cookies."

She poured the cookies out onto a plate, which was barely smaller than them. Even from across the table, the warm smell of the spices rolled over Jo. The earthy smell matched the rich brown color of a newly plowed field. Granules of sugar sparkled in the dim light of the lanterns like stars.

"Go ahead," she said, coaxing them on.

Jo bit into his cookie. It was still warm and soft. It crumbled like a cake, the spicy snap of ginger mixing with the hominess of the cinnamon. Unbidden, his mind dragged him back to those Christmas Eves with his cousins.

After the evening church service, they would all return to his uncle's farm house. Gathered around a table in the night, tin after tin of cookies would be set out. He would take a bite and the sweetness or spice would pull him in, make him fall in love with that cookie. Then another tin would open, and another cookie would draw him in.

This was his first year away from home, and he supposed it was still happening. Just without him. The bite of cookie suddenly felt thick in his throat as he swallowed. Warm pinpricks warned him that tears were mustering in his eyes, and he quickly turned to wipe them away.

Everything had been so wonderful just a moment before, but now the loneliness settled back in. That cold weight in his stomach that came whenever he thought about what his family or friends were doing without him.

"How are they?" Harriet asked as she picked at the last crumbs of her own cookie.

"Mine is very good," Edwin said. After a moment, he added "I promise, I'll get you a gift. Both of you."

Harriet laughed softly. "I feel childish, eating a cookie after that wonderful dinner we had."

"That's what the holidays are for, right?" Jo said, forcing a smile. "Things like eating cookies with friends and family."

Harriet nodded, but Edwin shoved his hands into his coat pockets and looked away towards the front door of the tavern.

"You don't have to say we're friends," Jo said softly. "We can work on it after we get your letter taken care of tomorrow."

Edwin nodded. "Yeah. I should get some sleep."

As they walked back towards the inn, Jo noticed that Edwin had a strange, secretive look in his eye. He was definitely planning something. They walked in silence, Jo wondering how long until they accepted his friendship.