Nick yawned as he leaned against a wooden column, waiting patiently for Charlotte’s train to arrive from Cambridge. She had sent a telegraph letting Nick know that she was going to take the overnight train and would arrive first thing in the morning, even before breakfast.
The week without her had been trying to say the least. From school he had gone to his parent’s and they couldn’t really understand why Nick had left her behind. There became question of what kind of husband he was if he was so willing to let his wife hold the reigns. He was almost relieved for the break to come pick Charlotte up and back to her house just to get away from the inquisitive glances he was constantly receiving in his own home. He was tired of fighting with his father, trying to explain to him that it wasn’t as easy to say no to Charlotte as he made it seem. That only made him look weak to the older man and in the end, it only made Nick feel inadequate.
The sound of the train approaching snapped him free from his thoughts and he watched the large steam engine as it roared to a halt in front of the platform. People started moving towards it, waiting for friends and loved ones to disembark the train but Nick waited. He didn’t like getting caught up in a crowd looking for someone so he tended to hang back, and wait for other people to come to him.
As soon as Nick saw a flash of bright yellow, floral print in a sea of dark blue he knew his wife had made it safely. He watched Charlotte step off the train with her suitcase in hand, her hair flying wildly in the wind and he waved until she noticed him standing near the station.
“You never come and help me with my case,” she complained, dropping the heavy leather suitcase by his feet.
Nick sighed, not quite sure if he was happy to have Charlotte back or if his break from marriage had been more of a relief than an annoyance, “Merry Christmas to you too. This is only the second time I’ve met you at the train station you know,” he reminded her as he picked up her suitcase, wondering what on earth she had packed because he was positive it was bricks.
Charlotte took a moment to look him over, concerned that his face lacked its usual rose coloured hue and was still the ashen colour it was when he’d left on the train, “Are you still sick?”
“I’m feeling better,” he explained, wrapping an arm around her so he could get her moving away from the station and back to where he’d left his parent’s horse and carriage, “Did you take care of everything you’d wanted to before you came?” he questioned.
“Did you see a doctor?” Charlotte asked, not letting him change the subject.
“Yes,” Nick sighed, “I had a virus, he told me I shouldn’t have let it go so long and he was surprised I didn’t give it to you, or to Sue for that matter. He gave me a remedy that’s supposed to help my cough and help me sleep but I don’t much like the taste of it.”
Charlotte chastised him, “You should take it! If the doctor said it’ll make you better then it will.”
“I don’t really trust all of the things they say will cure you,” he admitted, stopping once they reached the carriage. He put the case in the back and helped Charlotte step up to get settled.
“You’re so set in the past sometimes,” Charlotte spoke, watching Nick untie the horse, “I don’t know if it’s because of your parents teachings or what but I think that doctors know what they’re talking about.”
Nick took a deep breath as he sat down next to her and got them on their way to her parent’s house for breakfast, “You know Charlotte sometimes you don’t know what you’re talking about. I know it’s shocking since you think so highly of yourself, but it’s true.”
Charlotte sat completely astonished by Nick’s outburst. He had his moments where he would unexpectedly surprise her, but this was the worst it had ever been. She couldn’t think of a time where he had the courage to insult her. While her brain told her she should let the matter drop, her mouth worked independently, “Oh and I suppose you do?”
“Actually yes!” he bellowed, glancing over at her. He didn’t know why he was so testy, maybe it had to do with how his father had been on him to be more firm and aggressive when it came to Charlotte “being the man” in their relationship. It didn’t last long though because the misty look in her eyes like she might just cry broke him within seconds, “I’m sorry I snapped at you, it’s just…I do. My mother,” he paused, his voice suddenly becoming forlorn, “my real mother…she was very ill. Doctors gave her so many medicines that they swore would cure her of all of her ailments but it was the medicines that ended up killing her in the end. The doctors gave her opium for the pain and she was in so much pain one day she took it all and then never woke up. They said it was the disease that killed her but I knew it wasn’t.”
Charlotte couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks after hearing Nick’s story. She regretted what she’d said before, but knew that the time was about him and not about her apologies, “That’s terrible, you must have been so scared. I had no idea that had happened to you. You’ve never spoken about her before.”
Nick nodded and let Charlotte hold his free hand while the other kept the horse going the right way, “I’ve never spoken about her to anyone,” he admitted, “Even my parents don’t know about her. As far as I know they think she died when I was a baby and I have no memory of her.”
“If you can remember her so well you must not have been in the orphanage long before you were adopted?” Charlotte queried, running her thumb over his knuckles soothingly.
“I can’t remember her that well,” Nick confessed, “I sort of remember what she looked like, but sometimes I wonder if I’m just making it up and she didn’t look like that at all. I can’t recall how she sounded, but if there’s one thing I do remember, its how she smelled.”
Charlotte smiled slightly, “Aw, did she smell good?”
“Actually,” Nick snorted, suddenly breaking out into a fit of giggles, “she smelled awful! I don’t know if it was because she was sick but she smelled of moth balls,” he paused for a moment because his laughter was too out of control, “She smelled like your attic!”
Charlotte laughed right along with him, now wiping away tears from her amusement. She would have never expected that kind of response but was somewhat glad that Nick had chosen to lighten the mood, “What do I smell like?” she wondered, wrapping her arms around his bicep.
Nick thought for a moment then leaned down to smell her, “You smell like Charlotte.”
“I’m my own scent?”
He nodded, “Yes, I can’t think of any other way to describe it. It’s good though, I like it. And what about me? What do I smell like?”
Charlotte moved in close then scrunched her nose, “You smell like you need a bath.”
“Thank you,” Nick chuckled, “I’ll have you know I was waiting for you.”
“Your mother couldn’t help you?” she inquired with a grin.
“I’m sure she could have,” he shrugged, “but I have no desire to bathe with my mother. I had someone else in mind.”
Charlotte just smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder for the rest of the ride to her family home.
“Home sweet home,” Charlotte sang, as they walked in the front door, greeted with the smell of fresh bread.
“Oh good, breakfast,” Nick said, rubbing his stomach, “I’m starved.”
“I’m sure,” Charlotte replied doubtfully, shaking her head at how silly he had suddenly become.
“Ah, Charlotte! Happy Christmas! How nice of you to join us,” Mark, the eldest of Charlotte’s brother’s, spoke as he spotted the two of them in the hallway, “We were beginning to think you were never coming.”
“They’re here?” Charlotte heard her mother say from the kitchen and she ignored her brother, brushing past her to greet her parents.
Everyone was ushered into the dining room for breakfast and Charlotte felt strange being a guest in her own home. Normally she would be helping her mother serve the meal but now she sat and waited with her father, brothers, and Nick.
“It’s good to see you’re feeling better,” Thomas said to Nick with a small smile, having gotten word that he was ill when he came home the week prior.
Nick was about to speak when Charlotte piped up, “He looks much better than when he first got sick, you should have seen it him it was terrible.”
“Yes sir,” Nick added, “I’m feeling much better than before. Charlotte took good care of me.”
Mark chuckled from his seat directly across from Nick, “Well isn’t that unusual, the husband taking care of the wife,” he mused.
Thomas’ head quickly snapped to his oldest son and he slapped his arm, “Mark!” he chided and Nick knew immediately that one thing was absolutely certain; his father had been talking to Thomas.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Charlotte said, confused.
“Forget it,” Nick told her quietly, sending Mark a death glare across the table just as Charlotte’s mother Ann came in with breakfast.
“So did you bring me a present?” the youngest of the boys, Peter, questioned.
“Of course!” Charlotte smiled, “but you can’t have it until tomorrow morning!”
“What did you ask Father Christmas for?” Nick asked curiously, watching as Peter’s face lit up and he went on to talk about the many things he’d asked for, including a pony.
“You know what I asked for?” Ann asked the table and everyone sat looking at her curiously, “I asked Father Christmas for a grandchild for Christmas. Do you think I’m likely to get one?”
Charlotte suddenly felt all eyes on her, including Nick's, “I don’t think that’s for Father Christmas to decide.”
“This food is delicious!” Nick said brightly, changing the subject away from their lack of procreation.
The rest of the meal was eaten in relative silence and the day was consumed with preparing for Christmas dinner and for Nick’s parents, and another set of aunt, uncle and cousins to arrive that evening. The family always gathered at the Russell’s because they had the largest house. Charlotte’s father was successful in his work so they were able to live an upper middle class lifestyle whereas his wife’s sisters both had lesser, but still fulfilling, lives. Once the entire family was together they attended Christmas Eve mass and returned home. Their family wasn’t in the tradition of opening presents on the night before Christmas so the children were immediately ushered up to bed by Nick and Charlotte while the parents retired to their own rooms. Because of the three rooms required by the adults all of the kids were stuffed into a makeshift room in the attic much like it had been for as long as any of them could remember. Nick remembered the days when it was just him, Charlotte, and two of her brothers, now there were nine of them all vying for sleeping space. Both Nick and Charlotte were surprised to see an extra cot when they got into the attic. Normally they all slept on two big beds but this year her parents had added an extra bed, which they could only assume was for them.
“This one is mine!” Mark yelled, hopping onto the single bed dramatically.
Nick laughed and shook his head at the annoying seventeen year old, “Not on your life,” he corrected. There may have only been a few years between them but Nick felt like it was eons of maturity.
Once all the young ones had changed into their bedclothes they began the never ending argument of who slept where.
“Okay!” Nick barked, getting their attention, “Everyone under ten in this bed, and everyone over ten in the other.”
“You know I’m surprised,” Mark said as he made his way over to the bigger beds, “From what your father said I was under the impression you weren’t capable of taking charge.”
“I don’t want to have to fight you,” Nick snarled, “It’s Christmas but if you keep talking to me like that I may just have to whoop your behind.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Mark challenged, not at all fearful of the older boy despite the fact that Nick towered over him.
Charlotte couldn’t help but interject, “Boys, stop,” she hissed, pulling Nick away, “Let’s go back downstairs, I have a gift for you.”
“Alright,” he reluctantly nodded, letting Charlotte lead him back down the attic stairs, “I have something for you too.”
Charlotte led him onto the front porch where they didn’t have to worry about being quiet, “The snow is so pretty,” she commented, watching the big flakes fall from the sky. It didn’t normally snow until well after Christmas, but that year they’d been blessed with a bit of extra cold that brought them a white holiday.
Nick nodded, reaching into his pocket to make sure he had Charlotte’s gift, “I wanted to give you a gift tonight but I have another one for you tomorrow.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she told him, “but actually I did the same.”
He laughed and decided that he would go first. Pulling a small box out of his pocket he held it out for her, “This morning the ride here was sort of ironic. I had planned on giving you this and telling you everything from when I was a kid but it all kind of came out this morning. I still want you to have this,” he said, watching as she opened the box and gasped.
Charlotte pulled the necklace out of the box, amazed by how brilliant and polished the gold was. It was a small gold crucifix on a gold chain and the cross was encrusted with beautiful red rubies, “It’s stunning,” she marvelled, handing it to Nick so he could put it around her neck.
“It was my mother’s,” Nick explained the reference to that morning’s conversation, “The man who brought me to the orphanage after she died gave the sisters this necklace as a donation since they had one more mouth to feed but they couldn’t bear to keep it and gave it back to me to pass on. I had all but forgotten about it until I moved into my dorm room when I first went up to school. Then I decided to give it to you after we got married and it wasn’t the best shape. It was dirty so I took it to a jeweller and had it cleaned. Merry Christmas.”
Charlotte was beaming as she went up on her tiptoes to quickly kiss his lips, “Happy Christmas.”
Nick smiled then watched as she darted inside quickly to grab a small box, “I get a necklace too?” he jested and Charlotte shook her head.
“Not quite,” she smiled softly and watched as Nick ripped the paper from the box. She had discovered that one of the advantages to being a Cambridge student was the ability to order from the student clothiers. All of the wealthier students wore special University of Cambridge cufflinks to let people know when they went out that they were students of an elite school. Charlotte knew that Nick didn’t have a pair because it wasn’t quite in his budget, but she knew that more than anything he wanted one. They were red and gold for the schools crest and were monogrammed with Nick's initials.
Nick stared down into the box with awe, “How on earth did you get these?”
“I have my ways,” Charlotte smiled, “I can’t reveal my sources.”
“Thank you,” he said softly, giving her a loving smile, “It’s late, should we go in?”
“I suppose. We don’t want to be too tired when we get woken up in the morning,” she chuckled.
The two of them headed back up to the attic where they took another moment to admire their gifts before settling into bed.
Nick spooned up behind his wife, kissing the back of her ear delicately, “Are you awake?” he whispered, not wanting to wake anyone else.
“Yes,” she confirmed though her eyes stayed closed.
“Do you…” he began, pausing to collect his thoughts, “I mean... I would like it if Father Christmas did bring us a baby. That would be better than any gift in the world.”
Charlotte nearly cried at the innocence of his statement and she wanted nothing more than to tell him that it was true, and when she woke up in the morning she’d be pregnant but she knew that it wasn’t going to happen so long as she could help it.
“Father Christmas doesn’t bring babies, the stork does,” she mused quietly.
“I know,” Nick sighed and closed his eyes, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Charlotte repeated and played with the cross around her neck, starting to worry that a higher power might punish her for all of her transgressions.
