84 Ribbons (19 page)

“I’d be happy to help you.”

“Thanks, but I’d like to do it myself. It’s my job at home.”

Marta sat in the common room watching the heated bubble lights on the Christmas tree release tiny bursts up each colored tube. She and her mom used to put up the same type of lights back home, and she loved to watch their light play off each piece of tinsel. She closed her eyes and leaned back in the overstuffed chair. How could something so beautiful cause her to ache with such loneliness?

16

T
he 1957 Christmas Eve performance ended with numerous curtain calls. Bartley, Lynne, and Marta stood side by side in the back row. They exchanged smiles after each bow. Now the final curtain closed, signaling the end of the
Nutcracker
for another year.

As the stagehands dimmed the stage lights, Marta allowed tiredness to overtake her body. She walked slowly off the stage as she realized her truth: she was a professional dancer. People came to see the company perform; that included her. Madame gave her tough roles, and she’d done well dancing them. She  belonged here.

Lynne and Marta removed their headpieces as they walked to the dressing room. “I can’t believe it’s finally over,” Lynne said. “Want to come to my place to unwind?”

“No,” Marta said. “All I want to do is sleep. We can save the unwind for Steve’s cabin next week. I wonder if Bartley plans to come with us. So far she’s avoided answering me. Where’s she gone?”

“I saw her rush off before we left the stage. Did she have a plane to catch or what?”

“Beats me,” Marta said. “I—” Small wrapped packages sat at their places along the dressing room tables. Marta picked up hers and turned it over in her hands.

“Guess that’s a ‘no’ for saying  Merry Christmas to her,” Lynne said.

Both girls ripped open their boxes and pulled out a silver chain with three tiny ballerinas dancing together. “Three dancers,” Marta said.

“Three musketeers of dancing,” Lynne said as she fastened her necklace.

The dressing room filled with noise as the corps dancers filtered in, changed out of costumes, and put on street clothes. After several minutes of hustle and bustle, it quieted as dancers disappeared down the hallway to the exit.

Lynne slapped a drum roll on the make-up table, then stood and reached for her street clothes. “I’ll join you for Christmas breakfast. Then we’ll visit with my aunt before we…”

Marta looked up when Lynne stopped mid-sentence. She gasped and leaped to her feet, overturning her chair. “Mom! You’re here!” She rushed to hug her.

“Merry Christmas, honey. I didn’t want us to be apart on Christmas or miss seeing you dance your first professional
Nutcracker
.”

Marta soaked up the feel of her mother’s arms around her. She slowed her breathing to match her mother’s and laid her head against her shoulder, relaxing in a shelter she didn’t know she’d missed. She had forfeited her traditional holiday time with her parents and relatives and traveled all the way to Billings to be with her. That made every day of hard work, of performances, of tiredness worthwhile.

“I loved watching you dance. You moved so smoothly around the stage. Each dance looked perfect, even Mother Ginger. What a challenge! Performing with young children. And the atmosphere! The sets, the costumes, the staging, listening to a symphony orchestra–it was wonderful.”

“It was exciting. I’m totally exhausted, but now you’re here…” Marta released her to make introductions. “Mom, I want you to meet my new best friend, Lynne.”

“Nice to meet you, Lynne. Marta talks about you all the time.”

“Hi,” Lynne said. “Boy, you surprised her.”

“Good. Mrs. B. and I started to tell her numerous times.”

Marta gasped. “Mrs. B. knows?”

“Yes. We’ve gotten to be good friends on the phone. You ladies finish changing. I’m taking you out for a special dessert.”

“Uh, Mom. Everything’s closed. It’s ten-thirty on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, I know a place that stays open late.”

The special dessert materialized in Mrs. B.’s kitchen. They shared tins of homemade Christmas cookies while seated around the kitchen work table. Conversation circled faster than the cookies. All the while, Marta clung to her mom’s arm.

“I mailed your gift, so I don’t have anything for you for Christmas,” Marta said.

“Honey, you are all the present I need.”

“How long can you stay? Where are you staying? How did you get here?”

Mrs. B. laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Marta this excited.”

“I know. This is a different person than the one I put on the bus last August. Anyway, I took the train. I’m staying here in the empty room until the twenty-eighth.”

Marta stroked her mom’s arm. “I’m so glad you came. I wished for something like this, and now you’re here. Christmas is perfect.”

“I agree, honey. We’ll have time to talk, and you’ll be able to get a good rest.”

“Both sound wonderful.” Marta relaxed and let her thoughts drift away from the conversation. She’d danced through two of the season’s five programs. Her endurance grew with each one. Soon she’d be ready to audition for solos. After all, if she didn’t try she’d never get a solo or a back up position. She needed both to progress in the company.

Her mom’s hand on her shoulder brought Marta back to the table conversation. They’d moved on to stories of childhood Christmas gifts. Marta closed her eyes and half listened.

Lynne’s laughter startled Marta awake. She turned to see Lynne stuff two cookies in her mouth, drink the last of her cocoa, and stand. “Cool surprise, Marta. Okay. Change of plans. I’ll spend the morning with my aunt and our family, then I’ll head over here in the late afternoon. Thanks for the cookies. Good night everyone, and Merry Christmas.’’

Long after the others left, Marta and her mom sat in the common room wrapped in afghans. Marta’s resurgence of energy allowed her to stay alert and share random thoughts, stories from the dance company, and her time with friends.

“Where are Bartley and Steve tonight?”

“Bartley vanished. Guess she’s gone to Philadelphia. Steve left right after the ballet. He’s meeting his relatives on the late train.”

“You mentioned that he comes to watch you dance every night. Sounds like it’s getting serious, honey.”

Marta shrugged and smiled. “He’d like to be, but I’m not ready to get serious. Besides, we both have crazy schedules.”

When tiredness overpowered Marta, she said good night and climbed the stairs to her room. Despite her fatigue, she picked up dirty clothes, straightened shelves, and put the room in order before her mom would see it in the morning.

She lifted her window shade half way, allowing the full moon’s snowy blue light to flood her room while she sat and rocked. Christmas would be perfect now.

Morning arrived too soon. Marta stretched but stayed snuggled in her warm bedcover cave, savoring  the thought of the next days with her mom.

A light tap on her door ended her lounging. “Who is it?”

“Mom. May I come in?”

She hopped up and flung the door open. “Merry Christmas, Mom. Welcome to my Montana home.”

Her mom walked in looking toasty warm in a chenille robe with matching slippers. They hugged before she held Marta away from her at arm’s length. “You‘re tired. Want to sleep a little longer?”

“No, I’m awake. I don’t want to waste a minute of time with you. Is Mrs. B. up yet?” Marta stifled a yawn.

“Yes. She’s busy in the kitchen.”

Marta yawned again. “Good. Well, this is my room.” She stretched side-to-side and executed a few
pliés
. “I got used to all the hot weather, and now it’s freezing cold until the heat reaches my vents, which takes a long time.”

Marta watched her survey the room.  “Well, what do you think? Looks a lot like Gran’s house, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” Her mom smiled. “I like the way you’ve arranged everything. It feels comfortable.” She hugged Marta and moved to the door. “I need to shower and get dressed, so I’ll meet you downstairs in a little while.”

Marta took a quick shower and towel-dried her hair. Now, what to wear? She worked her way through her small selection of clothes. Many pieces hung looser than she remembered. She grabbed her red wool skirt, a collared blouse, and a tan cardigan. She fussed with her hair, then gave up and pulled it back into a loose ponytail, leaving ringlets trailing beside her ears.

Marta hummed as she descended the stairs. From the landing she heard the rattling of dishes and pots mingled with the aroma of baking bread. Her mom and Mrs. B. stood side by side at the kitchen work table talking in quiet voices. They both looked up when she entered.

“Good morning, ladies. Merry Christmas. Do I smell Jul Kaga baking?”

“Yes,” Mrs. B. said. “Your mother finished what you started yesterday. I’m baking it with the pies. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Marta put Bing Crosby’s
White Christmas
on the record player and hummed as she set the table for five, placing her mom at the foot of the table. Carol’s place would remain empty until classes resumed in January. Thank heavens she left for the holidays.

Shorty and James appeared minutes later, each wearing their best shirts and ties. After breakfast they rearranged the common room furniture to face the Christmas tree and the turntable where Christmas records played without interruption.

When the doorbell rang in the early evening, Marta hurried to answer it. Lynne and Steve entered, bringing in a cold breeze and arms full of gifts. Lynne stepped aside to hang her coat; Steve continued into the common room without stopping. “Merry Christmas, everyone,” he said. Nice to see all of you on such a beautiful day. Must be 15 degrees. I love a cold Christmas.”

Marta took the packages, allowing him space to remove his overcoat.  Shorty jumped up and helped. When the commotion slowed, Marta took Steve’s hand and pulled him to face her mom. “Mom, I’d like to introduce Steve Mason. Steve, this is my mom. She arrived last night.”

Steve reached out his hand. “Mrs. Selbryth, I’m happy to meet you.  Marta didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I surprised her. I’m glad to meet you, Steve. She’s told me a lot about you.”

“I hope she mentioned the good stuff.”

“Of course.”

“We’re happy you could join us,” Mrs. B. said. “Shorty and James hoped you’d keep your promise to join us.”

“I appreciate being asked. Sorry about last night. I had pick-up duty immediately after the Nutcracker, but the train rumbled in over an hour late.”

Mrs. B. served hot drinks in holiday mugs as gifts were distributed and opened. James and Shorty passed out the latest Christmas
Ideal
magazines. Marta’s mom handed out hand towels with hand-crocheted edges. Lynne passed out
Popular Mechanics
magazines to the men, sachets to the women, and a pale green scarf to Marta.

Steve gave the men each a mini-pliers in a leather case. He handed Marta’s mom, Mrs. B., Lynne, and Marta each a gift box of Russell Stover holiday candy, plus a packet of flowered handkerchiefs.

Marta smiled when she saw how he’d come prepared for any eventuality.

At Marta’s turn, she presented the male boarders with a new board game called Clue. For Lynne she had purchased two new pairs of pink tights and attached a note which read, ”I’ll teach you to mend properly.”

She watched Steve unwrap her gift, a dark blue silk tie with a faint diagonal design. “It’s for the ballet.”

Steve replaced his holiday string tie with the gift and kissed Marta’s cheek.

At a lull after the gift exchange, while Mrs. B. refilled mugs, Steve reached for Marta’s hand. “Come outside? For a minute?”

Marta grabbed her coat and followed him onto the icy porch. He sat in the swing and patted the space beside him. “I have a special present for you, but I didn’t want to give it to you with everyone watching.” He handed her a small box wrapped in silver paper with a glittery silver bow. “I planned to give this to you last night, but…open it.”

When she opened the box, her eyes widened. A small, heart-shaped stone hung from a silver chain. Its pale blueness sparkled like summer sunlight on the ocean.

“It’s not your birthstone, a blue topaz, but the jeweler said white turquoise is a symbol of friendship and luck. This one reminded me of the evening sky at the cabin. I hope you like it.“

Marta stared at the necklace. “Steve, it’s lovely. But, you already gave me a coat. This is too much.”

“No. I saw this and knew I wanted you to have it.”

She closed her hand around the stone. “Thanks. I love it.”

Steve looped the pendant around her neck and hooked the clasp. Then he circled around and kissed her lips. Her hands shook as she straightened the heart to hang between her collarbones.

“I’ll wear it whenever I’m not dancing.” She paused and kissed his cheek, wishing they could linger. “Come on.” She hauled him back inside.

She showed the necklace to everyone, ending with her mom who said, “How lovely. Marta’s father gave me a necklace when we first started dating. I still wear it. Marta wore it to her audition for the ballet company.”

Steve sat beside Marta on the small couch. He captured her hand and squeezed it. She returned the squeezes until she moved to restart the stack of Christmas records.

Steve spoke with everyone, shifting easily from mining to current events to stories about Billings, asking each person questions, like a reporter but with obvious interest. Had he learned that in college? Marta wished she had his gift of conversation.

After dinner, Mrs. B. stood. “I have a gift for everyone to share.” She removed a blanket from a huge box that had occupied a corner of the room for several days. “I hope this doesn’t change things too much. Everyone needs to help unwrap it.”

Shorty reached out toward Marta, offering his hand. “Come on. Help us out.”

The three boarders tore off the Christmas wrapping to discover an RCA Victor television. Shorty laughed. “You said you didn’t want one of these things in here. What changed your mind?”

Mrs. B. pursed her lips. “I didn’t want to be the only house on the block without one. Besides, there are good news programs, plays, and music. The antenna is installed on the roof. But we need to find a place to set it up.”