Jazz Age Wednesdays 15 ― Pip’s Lemony Christmas

Posted on by Teagan Riordain Geneviene

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Hello, everyone!  It’s Jazz Age Wednesdays here at Teagan’s Books.  I know how busy you must be at this time of year, so I’m even happier to see you.

These midweek posts have been a mix of new and re-shared vignettes.  Since several of you sheiks and shebas are new here, I hope no one minds that I’m doing a repeat of my story from a year ago.  As for the “Pip-verse” time-line, this one happens after Pip’s adventures in The Three Things Serial Story: A Little 1920s Story but before she went to Savanna to live with Granny Phanny.

Pip’s Lemony Christmas

 

Pip Christmas Frame Green

It had been a grand and glorious year.  However, it pos-i-lute-ly had ups and downs.  At that moment I was in one of the downs.  Even the long distance telephone call from my best friend Mona failed (miserably I might add) to cheer me.  She might not be sure where she wanted her future to go, but at least it was going somewhere.  All my friends were moving forward, going somewhere.  Me?  It didn’t look like I would ever get anywhere.

Not only was I going nowhere, I seemed to be going there all by myself.  Worse, it was Christmastime.  Even my Pops suddenly had to go up north on business.  I offered to go and keep him company…  Okay, so I begged.

“Young ladies have no place at business meetings,” he told me in the stern, no nonsense voice that meant I wouldn’t get anywhere with my plea.

Idly, I looked at the lace covered table, lemons artfully arranged as a centerpiece.  I took one of the tangy fruits, tossed it in the air and caught it.  I pondered as I tossed the lemon.

What would any self-respecting flapper do in such a situation?  Refuse to be a sourpuss, that’s what a flapper would do!

I decided as I tossed the lemon.  If all I had for Christmas was lemons, then I’d make lemonade — so to speak, especially after I found the bottle of hooch Pops had squirreled away.  I would have rather had the champagne I knew he hid some place, but that had been ages ago and I couldn’t remember where I saw it.

Gin will do just fine, I told myself.

Suddenly inspired, I gave the yellow fruit a final toss.  I went to the shoebox that held Granny’s recipes.  She had given me instructions for all sorts of citrus treats, and I was a sourpuss with a sweet tooth.

1920s-lemons-king-tut-brand

A little while later I was cleaning up the kitchen as it filled with citrusy baking aromas.  Just as I picked up the remains of my lemons, a loud knock pounded at the front door.  It startled me so badly that I ran to the door with barely a wipe to my juice drenched hands.

“Delivery!” the words came with another thunderous knock.

I threw open the door and the cool December air hit my face.  It was downright brisk, for Florida anyway.  There was a truck in the driveway and a young man with a name embroidered on his jacket — Ronny.  I took the package, barely looking at the guy who handed it to me.  My hands tore at the twine excitedly, even before I went inside.  Meanwhile Ronny the delivery man wrote something on the receipt clamped to his clipboard.

“If you’ll sign here, Miss?” he asked.

There was a card inside the package from my friend Mona.  The front of it said “I’m sorry you’re alone at Christmas.”  Hurriedly I stuck the edge of the note between my teeth and tucked the package under my arm so I could take the clipboard and sign the form.

Only then did I notice what a cutie the guy was.  He tilted his head all the way to his shoulder and read aloud the note while I signed.  As soon as I heard him speak the words, I blushed scarlet.  To make matters worse, he made a sympathetic aww sound that made me feel like a six year-old.

In my flustered flurry of motions, taking the note from my teeth, trying to stick it back in the package, and pushing my hair back… wouldn’t you know I touched a lemon coated finger to my face.  I yelped as the citrus stung my eyes.  It made tears stream down my cheeks.man_ray_tears

The guy sounded guilty when he pleaded to know what the matter was, as if he had caused it.  The only word I could manage to utter was, “Lemons!”

He pulled my hand away from my face and lightly sniffed it.  He gave a little chuckle that made me want to bean him.

“Yep, that’s lemons all right.  For a minute there I was afraid you got bad news,” he commented.  “But I guess being alone on Christmas Eve is bad enough.”

For some reason his comment made me lose my composure.  I burst out in real tears and sobs, no longer caused by the stinging citrus.  I plopped down on the porch and sat there with the package in my lap.  This upset poor Ronny.  He started blabbering apologies, clearly unsure of why he was asking for forgiveness.

“Look sweet cakes, you’re my last delivery.  Let me help you wash your face and get rid of that lemon juice before you put your fingers in your eyes again,” he offered in a contrite voice.

I insisted that it was okay, and with a sniffle, silenced my sobs.  Too embarrassed to look at him I turned my attention back to Mona’s gift.  Her card had fallen, but Ronny picked it up and handed it to me.  I took it from him and with a deep breath I spoke the words that humiliated me a moment before.

“I’m sorry you’re alone at Christmas,” I read the elegant script on the outside, and then opened the card.  “So you’ll just have to make your own party.”

1920s Champagne ad Calixtus

What?  Digging through the packing paper I found two sparkling etched crystal goblets.  I held up one of the glasses to watch the light play on it.  I looked at Ronny, feeling utterly bemused.  He returned my gaze with a twinkle in eyes that I suddenly noticed were a heavenly shade of blue.

Ronny picked up the other empty glass and playfully tapped it against the one I held.  I suddenly remembered where Pops hid the bubbly.

The End

***

 I appreciate your visit.  You are pos-i-lutely the bee’s knees!

Now, for that shameless self-promotion… Here are the links to the books about Pip and her friends.

Bijou front only 2

Murder at the Bijou — Three Ingredients I

Novel-book-The Three Things Serial Story-Teagan Riordain Geneviene-The Writer Next Door-Vashti Q-spotlight-author

The Three Things Serial Story: A Little 1920s Story Kindle 

 

 

This is a work of fiction.  Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2016 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

All rights reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.

 

77 thoughts on “Jazz Age Wednesdays 15 ― Pip’s Lemony Christmas”

  4. Pingback: The Yuletide Collection of Short Stories | Teagan's Books

  9. I’m running around late again this week, Teagan, but this was such a wonderful stop to make. I enjoyed this lovely story. It brings a feeling hope to the day.

    Have a thriving Thursday and a wonderful weekend!

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  10. I love this story, Teagan. It’s even better the second time around, like a smooth aged wine. And since I’d forgotten half of it (the old grey cells being cerebrally challenged, you know), it was a double delight 🙂 Hugs and Merry Christmas, my friend! ❤

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  14. Teagan I am falling in Love with Pip her whole ‘family’ and her adventures. She sparkles! Merry Christmas and thanks for this fab feel good story!

    Liked by 1 person

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  21. Nice Christmas story. Speaking of Jazz age, I’m making a Christmas card that covers the history of electric cars. Did you know electric cars were very popular from the late 19th Century up to 1935? Electric cars had been around for 100 years before cheap gas, and mass production made cars with internal combustion engines practical, affordable and popular. Porsche introduced the first electric hybrid called the Lohner-Porsche Mixte in 1901.

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    1. That will be one uber cool Christmas card, Tim. I knew the electric cars — or at least battery operated ones came up at that time, but I didn’t know how well they may have caught on. There are so many amazing technology things from that era. One really has to wonder how different the world would be now if a few details or decisions were different back then. I guess that explains the popularity of steampunk. 😉
      I hope you’ll post the card at your blog so we can all see it. Or maybe we can do a collaborative post and include it…
      Thanks for visiting. You’re the cat’s pajamas!

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  27. Pip Pip Hooray! I feel this one, dear Teagan, I’m kinda tired of making lemonade so often though, maybe I’ll try some lemon cookies, or to throw back the lemons, that would teach life a lesson. lol 🍋🍋🍋
    I’m glad to be spending time with you, at any time of the year, dearest one, you really are the cat’s pajamas!!! 😸😸😸
    Hope this week is treating you well, all the best, always. xox
    Mega ‘Trying’ to refuse to be a sourpuss (though I’m feeling a tad too Scrinch, but I’m working on it) hugs xoxox 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

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    1. Donna, I’m with you. As much as I love lemons, let’s throw them back at life! 😀 In January “they” (whoever the big they is) all said this year of the Fire Rooster would be full of challenges and that was a huge understatement. Whatever critter is in charge next year, I hope it’s friendly…
      It’s so very good to see you. Always you have a fun remark and encouraging words. I hope I can manage to give you kindness and encouragement in return. You are the cat’s pajamas! Merry Christmas hugs.

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    1. Dear Ape, thank you kindly for sharing this story from the tree-house. I know you’re over there teaching all the naughty chimps to make lemonade if the holidays gave them lemons.
      Oh, an update on the coloring book project… My tracing efforts were laughably lame. The chimps could have done better — drawing with their fee! I’ve gotten Photoshop… but it took the entire day to download. So I probably won’t have time to experiment before the weekend. Mega hugs!

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    1. I love lemons too, Olga — the tartness and the citrus smell. A wonderful Wednesday to you too, my friend. I hope all is going well in Barcelona. I just realized that I missed your Book Tuesday. I’ll click over when I get a break today. Thanks for visiting. You’re the cat’s pajamas.

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  32. Pingback: Jazz Age Wednesdays: Pip’s Lemony Christmas – The Militant Negro™

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