Seasons Greetings A Carol Christmas

Interludes

by Tigger

Second Interlude

After her day at the pediatric oncology unit, Jane returned to
Seasons House weary in mind, body and spirit. More than anything
else, she wanted privacy for her spirit, a hot bath for her body
and a large snifter of brandy for her mind, but she was Jane
Thompson, and she had responsibilities. Thus, she rapidly found
herself in her downstairs office, discussing the day's events
with her two assistants. In truth, it was almost more than she
could deal with in one day. A student she had been forced to
admit she'd failed, the totally unexpected return of one of her
other two failures and the discovery that one of her few real
secrets, her special cause, had been revealed to one of her
students.

Tiredly, she shook her head to clear it. *I should be glad they
caught me before I reached the decanter. No way would alcohol
help me deal with all this.* "Well, I suppose it is just as well
that he will be reliant on his uncle's largess for a few more
years. That should encourage him to keep his mouth shut.
Bribery ought to work as well with him as it did with Donald."

"Ummm. . Aunt Jane?" Darla put in. "I don't think Carl is really
going to need his uncle's money."

"Why do you say that, Darla?"

"Because during one of our set-to's this morning, Carol let slip
the possibility that she might have an inheritance from another
relative - one that she comes into on her eighteenth birthday. I
don't think it was a lie."

"Well, that would put the fox among the chickens, wouldn't it?
I will call his uncle and ask him to check. Anything else happen
today?"

"Well. . ." Darla started, then hesitated. Jane resisted the
urge to groan and instead gave the girl a 'let me have it'
gesture with her elegant hands. "I gave Carol the letters."

For a moment, Jane said nothing as her fatigued brain tried to
work her way through the possible ramifications of that act, but
finally she gave up. "Why, may I ask?" she asked, her eyes
closed against the first twinges of an incipient headache.

Darla's shoulders drooped. "I got her talking when we got back.
Actually, I think she got herself drunk because by the time I
found her, she was throwing back your brandy like it was fruit
juice."

"Wonderful. Another violation of our agreement," Jane noted. "I
told her that she might be served wine at table, as that is the
custom in many families, but that the stronger spirits were off
limits. I'm sorry for interrupting, dear. You were saying that
you had her talking? About what?"

"Why she dislikes and distrusts women, and specifically about her
mother. Did you know her father was abusive?"

Jane nodded. "It's strongly hinted at in some of the letters
Carl's mother wrote to herself. Unfortunately, powerful men can
hide such things from the authorities, or worse, with the help of
the authorities. By the time the uncle had enough to go after
Carl, the boy was old enough to express himself in court and told
the social worker he would prefer to stay with his father."

"He said that the social worker failed him!" Darla exclaimed.

"I'm sure he felt that way. I suspect that he was too afraid of
his father to do anything else, and the social worker didn't
pursue it any further. In her defense, she had a heavy caseload,
kids who really needed to be moved from obviously brutal
situations, and by all accounts, Carl's father was smart enough
not to leave much in the way of evidence."

"Oh," was all Darla could manage. "Anyway, he blames his mother
most of all, for not taking him with her the night she was
killed. So, I gave him the letters hoping he'd read what her
real intent was from that last letter."

"You didn't point it out to him?"

"No, I figured that he'd take that as one more instance of Jane
Thompson's manipulations. I was sort of hoping that he'd find it
himself and maybe, just maybe, believe they really are his
Mother's words. I'm sorry if I messed up."

Jane reached out and lovingly stroked the soft blonde hair, a
gentle smile curling the lips of her full mouth. "You did fine,
dear. I'm very proud of you for not giving up, for continuing,
even in the face of all our setbacks with this student, to try to
find a way to reach him."

Jane stood and went to her desk where she produced a business
sized envelope. "I was planning on giving you this tomorrow
morning as a Christmas present. Perhaps now is more
appropriate."

Darla took the envelope and carefully opened it and removed the
one page document. Her first thought was that it was some type
of award certificate as it was made of a heavy parchment paper
and had some type of seal embossed in the lower right hand corner
of the page. Then she opened it, and felt her head begin to spin
as she read aloud the words at the top of the page.

Proclamation of Adoption
Case of
Jane Thompson and Darryl Smith

The signature at the bottom of the page, embossed by the great
seal of her state, was of Aunt Ruth - Judge Ruth.

"Omigod," Darla exulted. "It's approved? It's real? I'm your.
. you're my . . "

Suddenly, Darla was wrapped in two pairs of loving arms, and was
being hugged tightly. "You're my son, now," Jane said softly,
"And God help you, dear, I am your mother."

Darla reached out with both arms to pull the two older women even
closer as all three shared kisses and tears. "He already did,
Momma-Jane," Darla/Darryl whispered over the lump in his/her
throat, "The day He sent me to you and Marie."

They stood there for several minutes, basking in the warmth of
the mutual embrace and in their shared love. Finally, Marie
pulled back first. "I have to get dinner finished. Darla did
invite Donald to join us and I think the two of you need to go
clean yourselves up and dress for dinner."

"He may not come," Darla noted, very reluctant to let go of
either woman.

"And then again, he might," Marie replied. "Now scoot, the both
of you, or my Christmas Eve dinner will be spoiled."

"Very well," Jane replied. "But Marie? Set four places, please.
You will also be joining us at table tonight." Marie started to
protest, but Jane cut her off with a single raised hand. "Not
another word, Marie. Whether Donald comes or not, I want to
celebrate tonight with my family."

"Me too," Darla said, trying to inject a touch of sass into her
voice. "So THERE!" whereupon all three began to giggle.

Third Interlude:

Carol wished she dared slip back down stairs to refill her now-
empty brandy snifter. The booze made reading these blasted
letters a damned sight easier. She didn't want to believe they
were from the woman who had given birth to Carl Morris - simply
didn't want to because they were true. That would mean her
entire outlook as Carl had been a lie and that . . . well, that
the Thompson woman might be right.

She'd never admit it to Little Miss Perfect-Panties-Darla, but
the visit to the hospital had rocked her opinion of the Thompson
woman. She'd jerked Darla's chain pretty hard after they got
back to the house, but the truth of the matter was that seeing Ms
Thompson and that poor kid had done funny things to her inside.

"And that's just bullshit," Carl's voice snapped out. "Just like
she's got me thinking of myself in the feminine tense when I'm
not careful. Cripes, but this is going to be a colossal pain in
the ass when I finally turn eighteen and Granddad's trust starts
paying the bills. Guess I will just have to drop out of sight
for a few months while I practice being a guy again."

A knock sounded at the door. "It's not locked," the be-skirted
boy called out before adding sotto voce "On this side of the
door, anyway."

"It's Marie with your dinner," a muffled voice called. "Could
you open the door for me?"

A very unladylike stomach growl immediately ended any inclination
the unhappy teen might have entertained to give Marie a hard
time. "At least the food is good," she thought as she hurried to
open the door.

Marie swept into the room carrying a huge tray which she set on
the window seat beside the bed. "Now I gave you seconds of all
your favorites and an extra big piece of the pie. There's hot
tea in the thermos, but I can bring up milk if you'd prefer."

"That . . that . . . tea will be fine, Ms. Marie," the surprised
student stuttered out.

"Well, enjoy your meal. If there is anything you need or want,
give me a ring after the usual dinner hour. Jane wants me to eat
with her and Darla tonight."

"Th. . thanks. A lot."

Marie shocked the youngster to the core when she went up on her
toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Bon Appetite,
cheri."

Uncertainly, Carl/Carol walked over to the tray and removed the
lids from the various dishes. "Good grief, she really DID fix
all my favorites. She noticed? And cared enough to still
prepare them for me? After the way I acted today? What the hell
is going on here?!?!"

The question went unanswered so she/he settled down to eat. The
fact that his/her table manners, including seated posture, and
her/his use of the napkin and all the flatware were impeccable,
even by Jane Thompson's high standards, went unnoticed even by
the sole occupant of the room.

Fourth Interlude:

"I guess I am the last person you ever expected or perhaps even
wanted to see again, Jane." Donald Madden said as he sipped his
after dinner coffee in the Seasons House music room.

"Let's say that you have often been in my thoughts and let it go
at that?" Jane replied.

"Especially now, I would bet."

"How so?"

"I met your junior student today, Jane. Other than the fact that
he makes a much prettier and more believable girl than I ever
did, it was like deja vu. What happened?"

Jane sighed. "Same thing as you - he knew something his uncle
and I did not. Basically, he had a financial parachute in the
form of a legacy that he takes control of in two weeks. His
guardian, the uncle who sent him to me did not know about that
inheritance until Carl let it slip this morning to Darla and I
called him to ask about it."

"Truly deja vu. Me all over again."

"Except I won't tell Carl the truth about Darla. I told you
about your big sister . . Lord what was her name?"

"Martha. . .I mean, Martin," Donald supplied.

"He's a doctor now, by the way. In any case, I revealed the truth
about Martha to you in the hopes that you might understand what
we were trying to do with you - in hope that you might decide to
straighten up and become a big sister yourself."

"I was too sure I was right and you were wrong."

"Well, nothing I've tried with Carl since those first few days of
shock-treatment has touched him in any way I can determine. Now
I know why, but I am not going to reveal to him that all of my
other students were cross-dressed young men, too."

"I was a bit surprised by that young person, Jane. She. . .he
seems, I don't know, almost like a . . well, a younger version of
you. Star pupil?"

"My son, Donald. The adoption papers arrived today. He is very
special."

"Well, I let you down fifteen years ago, but is there anything I
can do to help with, what did you name him? Carol? You name it,
I'll do it."

Jane regarded her guest for several moments. "I cannot imagine
why you would make such an offer, or given your opinion of me
when you left here, that you actually mean that 'you name it'
part."

"Try me."

"In all honesty, Donald, I am afraid there is nothing that can be
done with him at this point except cut all of our losses and try
to move on. I've already made arrangements to send him back to
his uncle after Christmas. I am curious, though, what has
changed your outlook so radically."

"What usually causes a man's world to get turned upside down? I
fell in love."

"Congratulations."

"Save them, Jane. I took over her family's company for the
patents it held. Met her when my team arrived to start the
demolition and the world as I have always known it ended in a
single flash of emerald green eyes. Unfortunately, she can't
seem tolerate me for all the myriad reasons you impressed on me
when I was Donna."

"So what are you doing now?"

"I am fighting to save her company from my own investors using my
own money. It will be close, but I think I have the deal just
about done. Then I plan to appoint her as CEO and set up a sale
plan so she can buy it back from me."

"Do you need another investor?"

"You? I didn't come here to hit you up for money, Jane. I just
came to. . .well, tell you I wish I had learned some of these
hard lessons fifteen years ago, when they didn't hurt so much."

Jane smiled. "Well, when you win your lady, bring her to visit."
and then her smile changed to one Donald and almost a hundred
other young men would recognize with more than a little frisson
of fear and trepidation. "I will show her the family pictures."

His mouth literally dropped open as the full implications of that
promise became clear. "You would, wouldn't you?" Donald laughed.