Chapter 39 - Christmas with the Robinsons

According to Boy: It was our first Christmas together as Mr. and Mrs. Carrier. Actually, it was our first Christmas together, period. The holiday that year fell on a Wednesday. I had no classes from December 21st through January 4th, but Evie had only December 25th off. So, there was no point in trying to go back to Michigan. She probably could have got off Thursday and Friday, but in addition to the lack of time, there was also the lack of money.

Even though Evie and I were both very family oriented, neither of us had a problem celebrating Christmas by ourselves in New York—at least, not initially. Once we had made the decision not to go home, we talked about how cool it would be to just spend the day together, with Mister. However, the closer it got to Christmas, the more we started to question our decision.

I remember suggesting to Evie that we probably could still get tickets and fly home; if even for just a few days. I called the airlines, only to learn that the best we could hope for was "standby." That might work for one of us, but the odds were not good that we would both make it. So, we just resolved ourselves to make the best of it. I think it would have been easier had I not called the airlines at all, as it just got our hopes up.

Then, our landlord got involved. We ran into him about a week before Christmas, as Evie and I were leaving the apartment to walk Mister. He asked us what our plans were for Christmas, expecting to learn that we were going back to Michigan. When we explained to him that we were going to spend Christmas in New York, he was surprised.

He knew that we were friends with Joel Randall and his wife, so he asked us if we would be having Christmas dinner with them. We told him that the Randalls were heading back to their families in the Midwest for Christmas, and that we had bought a small turkey.

Charlie then said, as he grabbed my arm: "Then, it’s settled. You will have Christmas dinner with us."

"No, we can’t do that," I quickly replied. "We really appreciate the invitation, but we were really looking forward to roasting the turkey, and decorating our tree."

"Roast your turkey for New Years, and decorate your tree tonight. You’re having Christmas dinner with us. I insist."

Charlie Robinson was absolutely the nicest person we had ever met, up to that time. He and his whole family were wonderful, down-to-earth German-heritage New Yorkers. They treated us just like we were their own kids. We knew that Charlie genuinely wanted us to eat Christmas dinner with him, and that there was really no way he was going to let it be any other way.

Evie and I just looked at each other, and smiled. "That is very generous of you. Are you sure your wife won’t mind?" I asked.

"No, of course not. We’ve already talked about it and she told me to invite you."

Man, what sweethearts they were.

So, obviously we accepted the invitation, and we had the most wonderful time with Charlie and his family. It wasn’t a big dinner, at least not as far as the number of people there. I would guess that there were maybe twenty, counting us—probably less. But they made us feel so very welcome.

I remember very little about what was served. I think we had some delicious duck. It was the first time I had ever eaten duck. Mrs. Robinson was a fabulous cook. And so was her sister, and Charlie’s sister.

I do remember some sort of tasty alcoholic drink. Maybe that’s why I don’t remember very much else about the meal.

The one thing that sticks in my mind was our conversation with Charlie’s family. They were fascinated with our Midwestern accent—particularly the way we pronounced the final "r" on words such as "Mister."

The conversation would go something like this: "So you’ve got a dog, a Norwegian Elkhound. What’s his name?"

"Mister."

Then there would be a moment of silence, accompanied with a puzzled expression. "Mystery?"

"No, Mister, like in ‘Mister Ed," I would say. 

"Oh! Mista," they would respond knowingly.

I always did wonder why it took "Mista" so long to respond when I would call him. Obviously, he was more of a New Yorker than was I.