It had been nearly fifty years since it had snowed at Christmas in England, but somehow the weather never failed to make an impression on the season. Kit had done her best to brighten the old house with twinkling lights and evergreen decorations, filling the Christmas tree with decorations she had made and those she had found in the attic. Christmas Eve had always been her favorite part of the season, and without fail, she always attended Midnight Mass, though she never attended church through the rest of the year. This year, she came home in the light-spangled darkness in thoroughly high spirits, singing at the top of her lungs, heedless of the neighbors she might have disturbed on her way past. No doubt the house, and its ghostly master, heard her coming the moment she stepped onto the drive, warbling her way through favorite carols as she went.
" ...oooooooooria, hosanna in excelsis!" reverberated through the old house as she stepped over the threshold, untangling her scarf from her neck as she lifted her voice. "Merry Christmas!" Whether Randal was there to respond or not, it seemed that Kit's determination to enjoy Christmas was fully buoyant in the aftermath of the holy celebration.
Over the past month or so since the visit from Isabelle, the resident ghost had been in evidence far more than he had been before. It was almost as if something had changed, not only in him, but in the house in general, which seemed lighter, brighter, and happier than before, as if reflecting the mood of its master. Now that Randal knew there was some hope in the future, that Kit really did love him, that all he needed was a little bit of faith, his entire demeanor had changed from gloomy to optimistic. Though he couldn't truly enjoy the holiday the way he wanted, he was at least grateful for Kit's presence and hopeful they'd celebrate many happy Christmases in the future once the curse was broken. By the time she arrived home from church, a shadowy silhouette could be seen in the window watching for her arrival.
Full of beans, Kit bounced her way up the stairs and into the music room, which she had hung with delicate fairy lights twisted through the evergreen garlands for the season. Her face lit up, bright smile growing brighter on finding Randal standing by the window. "Happy Christmas, Randal," she declared happily, skipping over to the piano and starting up a rousing rendition of We Wish You A Merry Christmas, just because.
Randal laughed, not because he thought Kit was funny but because it was heartening to see her so happy. Christmas had always been his favorite holiday, once upon a time, and with her help, it just might become his favorite again. "Happy Christmas, Kit," he echoed as she bounced into the room and plunked herself down at the piano. Like the rest of the house, even the music room had undergone a change. The drop cloth had been removed from the piano, and the room had been cleaned and spruced up and decorated in honor of the holiday, just like it had been when her grandmother had been alive.
With the opening of the music room, Kit's comfort with the piano had increased, her old familiarity with the keys coming back to her the more she played for him. The music faded beneath her fingers as she smiled up at him, always pleased to hear him laugh, even if it was a little at her expense. She knew she was more than a little childlike this year, but it had been a long time since she had let herself truly enjoy Christmas. "I wish you could have seen the crib at the church," she said warmly. "There's no Holy Family in it this year ....the shepherds and angels have been arranged around the altar piece they asked me to carve for them. I swear, I think my jaw hit the floor when I realized!"
"That's brilliant, Kit!" Randal exclaimed with a broad grin on his face. He was truly happy for her and happy she was settling into the house and the town so well. It was important to him that she liked this place, if they were going to be living here together. "I'll see it someday soon," he added hopefully, though neither of them could say for sure when. Isabelle had mentioned something about Halloween, but that was a long way off yet. Still, it had given them both hope.
"You will," she nodded happily, truly buoyed up by the celebration of Christmas thus far. Her fingers stroked the ivory keys affectionately, picking out a softer Christmas tune that he might not know. "I was going to make you something, but then I realized that I wouldn't be able to give it to you until the summer, so you're just going to have to wait until then to see your present."
"You are all the Christmas present I need, Kit," he told her, quite honestly with a soft smile on his face, as well as a small sparkle in his eyes that hinted at a bit of mischief or perhaps a small surprise of his own. "I have something for you, too, but I'm not sure if I should make you wait for morning or give it to you now."
"Well, I was thinking that if you weren't here when I got back I should go to bed naked wearing a bow on my head," she teased, her laughter fading off into quietly touched warmth as he added his own intention to give her a gift. "You have something for me" Really' Randal, I don't need anything. I've got you, what more do I need?"
"That is not a present, Kit! It's torture!" he exclaimed with a laugh. They had been over this already, but at least he could laugh about it now, knowing there was a light at the end of the tunnel - at least, if Isabelle could be trusted to be telling the truth. Randal wished there was some way to know for sure, but he had no choice but to trust her. "A Christmas present isn't about giving someone something they need," he reminded her gently.
Her smile softened as she twisted on the seat, looking up at him with the warm adoration in her eyes he was slowly growing used to seeing there. "I know," she promised him through that gentle smile. "But you're going to make me wait for it, aren't you?"
"I think I might be able to give you part of it now," he said, clearing his throat as if he had something important to say or was about to make a speech. "Your grandmother taught me this one..." he started, straightening and almost nervously tugging at the hem of his military jacket. "I'll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me..." he started, his voice not the best she'd ever heard - certainly not professionally trained - but that wasn't really the point.
Watchful with anticipation, Kit's smile deepened until it lit her up as he broke into song. Not only was it a beautiful choice, but it had been one of her grandmother's favorites. No wonder Randal had been taught it over the years. Twisting, she picked up the tune with the piano, offering a gentle accompaniment for his voice. Whether he was Pavarotti or not, it didn't matter to her. It was Randal.
" ...oooooooooria, hosanna in excelsis!" reverberated through the old house as she stepped over the threshold, untangling her scarf from her neck as she lifted her voice. "Merry Christmas!" Whether Randal was there to respond or not, it seemed that Kit's determination to enjoy Christmas was fully buoyant in the aftermath of the holy celebration.
Over the past month or so since the visit from Isabelle, the resident ghost had been in evidence far more than he had been before. It was almost as if something had changed, not only in him, but in the house in general, which seemed lighter, brighter, and happier than before, as if reflecting the mood of its master. Now that Randal knew there was some hope in the future, that Kit really did love him, that all he needed was a little bit of faith, his entire demeanor had changed from gloomy to optimistic. Though he couldn't truly enjoy the holiday the way he wanted, he was at least grateful for Kit's presence and hopeful they'd celebrate many happy Christmases in the future once the curse was broken. By the time she arrived home from church, a shadowy silhouette could be seen in the window watching for her arrival.
Full of beans, Kit bounced her way up the stairs and into the music room, which she had hung with delicate fairy lights twisted through the evergreen garlands for the season. Her face lit up, bright smile growing brighter on finding Randal standing by the window. "Happy Christmas, Randal," she declared happily, skipping over to the piano and starting up a rousing rendition of We Wish You A Merry Christmas, just because.
Randal laughed, not because he thought Kit was funny but because it was heartening to see her so happy. Christmas had always been his favorite holiday, once upon a time, and with her help, it just might become his favorite again. "Happy Christmas, Kit," he echoed as she bounced into the room and plunked herself down at the piano. Like the rest of the house, even the music room had undergone a change. The drop cloth had been removed from the piano, and the room had been cleaned and spruced up and decorated in honor of the holiday, just like it had been when her grandmother had been alive.
With the opening of the music room, Kit's comfort with the piano had increased, her old familiarity with the keys coming back to her the more she played for him. The music faded beneath her fingers as she smiled up at him, always pleased to hear him laugh, even if it was a little at her expense. She knew she was more than a little childlike this year, but it had been a long time since she had let herself truly enjoy Christmas. "I wish you could have seen the crib at the church," she said warmly. "There's no Holy Family in it this year ....the shepherds and angels have been arranged around the altar piece they asked me to carve for them. I swear, I think my jaw hit the floor when I realized!"
"That's brilliant, Kit!" Randal exclaimed with a broad grin on his face. He was truly happy for her and happy she was settling into the house and the town so well. It was important to him that she liked this place, if they were going to be living here together. "I'll see it someday soon," he added hopefully, though neither of them could say for sure when. Isabelle had mentioned something about Halloween, but that was a long way off yet. Still, it had given them both hope.
"You will," she nodded happily, truly buoyed up by the celebration of Christmas thus far. Her fingers stroked the ivory keys affectionately, picking out a softer Christmas tune that he might not know. "I was going to make you something, but then I realized that I wouldn't be able to give it to you until the summer, so you're just going to have to wait until then to see your present."
"You are all the Christmas present I need, Kit," he told her, quite honestly with a soft smile on his face, as well as a small sparkle in his eyes that hinted at a bit of mischief or perhaps a small surprise of his own. "I have something for you, too, but I'm not sure if I should make you wait for morning or give it to you now."
"Well, I was thinking that if you weren't here when I got back I should go to bed naked wearing a bow on my head," she teased, her laughter fading off into quietly touched warmth as he added his own intention to give her a gift. "You have something for me" Really' Randal, I don't need anything. I've got you, what more do I need?"
"That is not a present, Kit! It's torture!" he exclaimed with a laugh. They had been over this already, but at least he could laugh about it now, knowing there was a light at the end of the tunnel - at least, if Isabelle could be trusted to be telling the truth. Randal wished there was some way to know for sure, but he had no choice but to trust her. "A Christmas present isn't about giving someone something they need," he reminded her gently.
Her smile softened as she twisted on the seat, looking up at him with the warm adoration in her eyes he was slowly growing used to seeing there. "I know," she promised him through that gentle smile. "But you're going to make me wait for it, aren't you?"
"I think I might be able to give you part of it now," he said, clearing his throat as if he had something important to say or was about to make a speech. "Your grandmother taught me this one..." he started, straightening and almost nervously tugging at the hem of his military jacket. "I'll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me..." he started, his voice not the best she'd ever heard - certainly not professionally trained - but that wasn't really the point.
Watchful with anticipation, Kit's smile deepened until it lit her up as he broke into song. Not only was it a beautiful choice, but it had been one of her grandmother's favorites. No wonder Randal had been taught it over the years. Twisting, she picked up the tune with the piano, offering a gentle accompaniment for his voice. Whether he was Pavarotti or not, it didn't matter to her. It was Randal.