The Last Christmas

December 1932: my last Christmas as a human and one that was bittersweet in more than one that was bittersweet in more than one way. As a child I always loved the holiday season; carolling, snowball fights with Nate and Alex, shopping with Mother and returning to log-lit fires and the sense of home. But this year I wasn’t just shopping for presents for my Brothers but trying to find that all important dress, as Royce had asked me to his parents annual Christmas Eve Ball and dinner.

Mother was more excited than I was for the occasion, putting my dress as the major shopping priority over gifts saying how I needed to look my best for Royce. It was actually when we were on a day trip to Manhattan that we found the dress, deep blue, like my eyes with silver sequin detail throughout. I had to admit it was stunning and I looked like a movie star, but there was no way my parents could afford it. But Mother was insistent, asking the sales girl to ring it up with matching gloves and a faux fur stole too. I stood in the store dumbfounded, I knew it was beyond anything they could afford, Mother assuring me it was fine and repeatedly saying that Royce would love it. As we went back into the cold Manhattan air I stood and stopped for a moment, my expression questioning my Mother, before she turned around,
“Rosalie Lillian, can you just be thankful for once in your life? No actually. Don’t thank me, thank Royce, you’ll see.” Before I could retort, she stormed off into the next store, silently indicating no more questions.

So the day of the Ball arrived, Christmas Eve, and I sat at my vanity doing my make-up, dabbing powder on my flawless skin. There was a knock on my door and I looked into the mirror to see Alex standing in my doorway. I turned smiling, nodding for him to come in and he ran and sat on my knee, at only ten Alex was still young enough for cuddles.
“Rosey”
“Hmmmm?”
“You look like a Princess” he murmured before kissing my cheek and jumping off my knee and ran back to listen to the Christmas radio broadcast with Nate.

At six o’clock there was a knock on our front door and I knew it was him, checking the faux flower in my hair one last time; I grabbed my purse and headed towards the stairs. I could hear Father and Royce talking about the Bank and then silence- which Royce broke,
“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet” , I remember blushing as he took my hand and kissed it, before leading me out towards his car, ready to be driven to the house. As I sat in the back seat with Royce, I can recall my hands twisting around from nerves, before he turned my cheek and kissed it.
“My Darling, why are you so nervous?” I frowned as he laughed, “They will all be so stunned by your beauty you won’t even have to engage in conversation with them.” And he was right, dinner was spent at the head table next to his parents, the only conversation about how good Royce and I looked together. After dinner we were led into his parent’s ballroom, which housed the most spectacular Christmas tree I had seen in my eighteen years of being. Delicate glass ornaments hung from every available branch and there was a huge stack of identical wrapped boxes below it. Royce boasted how at midnight each guest would open one- the contents being grand party favours from his parents. Being in that room you wouldn’t have believed there was a depression crippling the world outside, and for once I believed in the phrase ‘ignorance is bliss’.

I spent the night in Royce’s arms enjoying each and every dance and glass of champagne on offer- yes even under prohibition they somehow managed to have bottles of it in the house. Then at quarter to midnight we gathered around the Christmas tree singing carols, whilst housekeepers gave out the presents ready for the guests to open. As I went out to reach for one Royce held his hand up,
“I have something special for you my Dear”. The clock struck twelve, indicating Christmas Day and all the guests started to open their favours whilst Royce, his parents and I watched on. When they were finished his father announced that Royce had something to say, I stepped back to let him speak but he pulled me forward with him, introducing me to the elite of Rochester. Then he did something I never would have expected, he got down on one knee and pulled out a small box and proposed in front of everyone,
“Rosalie, over the past few months you’ve made me the happiest man on this planet. Your sheer beauty astounds me every day, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” At the time it was all I ever wanted coming true, like my own Christmas fairytale, but who was to know of the reality that would occur a few months later...