Christmas at the Jacobson's

   "Hellooo!  Come in, come in!" chorused the festive host and hostess of Birmingham's Christmas party of the year.  They ushered the quiet couple to the coat room, "I do hope that you are enjoying your new neighborhood!"
   "Yes, thank you."
   "Well, don't be shy," the hostess said.  "The food's right through the double doors on the left and everyone's congregated in the sitting room just down the hall."
   The host nudged the man's elbow, startling him.  "Ho-ho!  Didn't mean to scare ya, there," he said.  "A few of the boys are in the study if you want to trade in the chit-chat for some whiskey and cigars."  
   The man's wife gripped her husband's arm tighter, sending him a pleading glance.
   The host patted the man on the back and turned a grin to the hostess, "Speaking of--I really should see that the boys are behaving themselves."  He kissed his wife on the forehead and retired his role as host for the evening.
   The hostess piddled and whimpered behind her husband until another couple arrived at the door, "Oh!  Please do excuse me.  Enjoy yourselves!"
   "Humph." The shy wife whispered to her husband, "Fat chance."
   "Chastity, it's an office party," Jackson replied.
   They eased into a kitchen corner with champagne in hand.
   "You know we don't fit in, Jackson."
   He looked around at all of the bright lights, the array of Christmas trees, the gifts, the tiny trays of food everywhere, and the shiny decorations, calculating how much the Jacobson's pay to put on this party every year.  "Just give it a chance."
   His wife looked at him.  Dark brown eyes shared an unspoken message with even darker eyes.
   "Hello!  Jackson, my boy.  How are you?"
   Chastity's eyes ricochetted off the plump man ambling toward their private corner.
   Jackson offered a smile and extended a hand, "Robert--"
   "No! No.  Bob.  Please call me Bob."  Bob squeezed closer, smelling of sherry and squinting his eyes.  "And you must be Mrs. Brown.  So nice to finally meet you.  My wife is around here somewhere."  He turned toward the large group of people across the hall but soon gave up the search.  "Nevermind.  Grand party, this one, isn't it?"
   "Yes--"
   "Gerald!" Bob shouted.  "Gerald!  You and I have a bet to settle."  He leaned in close to Jackson and poked his rib cage, "Don't you two go anywhere.  I'll be right back... Gerald!"
   Chastity Brown straightened her spine, which gave a tense crack.  She fretted over how long she'd had her neck lowered and her back slumped.  "How long do we have to stay?" she whispered to her husband.
   Jackson flipped the end of his tie, then ironed it smooth with his warm, damp palm.  "I think another hour or two would send a good message."
   His wife gaped at him.  She closed her mouth and blinked the spots from her eyes before suggesting, "We could say the kids are sick."
   "Chas," Jackson chided.  "We'll be fine."
   "It'd be easier," she said, "if we weren't surrounded by white people."