When the Music Ends (The Winter Rose Chronicles)

by Simone Beaudelaire

  "I need you to know that you’re always welcome here."

  This time, Erin really smiled. "Thank you."

  And then Sean took his wife home and pulled her into bed with him. Even though they had made love already that day, it was time for more. He undressed her tenderly, kissing her body as he revealed it, taking his time, showing her how much he adored her, and finally pulling her on top of him and sliding into her so they could be one. It was a beautiful expression of love, one that Erin could not deny, one that soothed her hurt and reminded her that she was not alone, not unlovable. Her husband loved her, and even if no one else ever did, it would be enough.

  ******

  Roger and Ellen undressed and climbed into bed in silence.

  She reached for the lamp, and he took her hand, restraining her. She turned towards him. "What is your problem, Ellen?"

  "I don’t know." She was not surprised at his confrontation. "I’m really sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean to make her so upset."

  "But why do you have such issues with her? She’s a very sweet girl." He wasn’t going to budge. She knew that serious, stubborn look all too well.

  Ellen struggled to put her vague feelings of unease and distress into words. "She is. I just hate the secrecy."

  "It’s over." His voice was flat.

  "I know. I know. I didn’t think…"

  "No you didn’t," he interrupted. She was glad. She really had no idea what to say next. "And it’s not like you to be so insensitive. What is it about Erin that makes you so uncomfortable? You never used to be that way with her."

  "I never realized that she loved Sean."

  "I know. But is it really that bad that she does? I mean, I’m glad our son is married to a woman capable of that level of selfless love and devotion. She’s going to be very good to him. You can’t imagine how terrible that year was for her, and yet she rose to the occasion over and over, beyond what anyone could have asked for or expected. It’s no surprise she needed some help."

  That reminded her of a question she’d been meaning to ask. "That’s another thing I don’t understand. Everyone keeps talking about how terrible that year was for Erin, but it was Sheridan who was raped, who became pregnant, and who had to give up her baby. She was the one who had the terrible year."

  "She did, but there was a lot going on behind the scenes that we didn’t know." Roger paused, considering. "If I share this with you, you must keep it in complete confidence. Don’t mention to Erin that I’ve told you. You’ll upset her again."

  "I promise." Goodness knew she wasn’t going to make things worse.

  "Do you remember when Erin made our Thanksgiving dinner?"

  "Yes…" She gave her husband a questioning look.

  "She was pregnant at the time."

  Ellen gasped.

  "Sean told me, and this was just the other day mind you, he probably made Erin pregnant the night that Sheridan was assaulted, just before you called him from the hospital."

  This was a stunning revelation, and long minutes passed while Ellen struggled to process it. "But what happened then?" A terrible suspicion dawned on her. "Wait, she was encouraging Sheridan to have an abortion. She didn’t do that did she?" If that little…

  "Calm down Ellen." Roger interrupted her runaway thoughts again. "No, of course not. Sean told me that once they got over the shock, they were both happy. It meant they would stay together, get married. He hated that she wouldn’t be able to go away to school, but he wanted to keep Erin with him, and this made it possible."

  "So what happened then? Where is this baby?"

  "Erin miscarried the next day. Sean was there, so was Sheridan. It was when we were out shopping. She lost her baby right here in the upstairs bathroom. Sean said it was literally the most terrible day of his life. Apparently the baby looked perfectly fine and normal. They had to take it to the hospital to have it examined. They were devastated."

  "Oh my God. How awful." Now Ellen really felt guilty. She could picture the scene in her mind. That poor girl. And here she was, making it worse.

  "Do you remember what it’s like, Ellen, to lose a baby?"

  "Do you think I can ever forget? I remember exactly what it’s like." Her voice wavered a little, "Poor Erin. That must have been heartbreaking." And Erin had shouldered that pain nearly alone. No mother to help her. Only Sean, grieving beside her, and Sheridan, already stressed beyond her ability to cope. It was a miracle she’d come through it as well as she had. And no one had ever said a word. Ellen’s defensive reaction began to crumble.

  "It was. But she concealed it. She didn’t want anyone to know that she was suffering as badly as Sheridan. She needed to be there for her friend. And let’s not forget, my love, why we married exactly when we did."

  "I know. It’s a good thing Sean has never added up the numbers." Even all these years later, the embarrassment of being the good little Catholic girl who got pregnant out of wedlock brought a hint of color to her cheeks. She had not one stone to throw at Erin.

  "Would it be so bad if he knew?"

  "I don’t know. I would be embarrassed if he found out."

  "What, that a passionate nature runs in the family? Why do you think the Murphys are so loyal? It’s because we love so deeply." He kissed her temple, making her smile. Her swirling thoughts gelled into a desire for action. It was time to stop fussing about what was already done and get busy being a family again.

  "You’re right. Listen, Roger, I have an idea about how to make this right with Erin."

  "Tell me."

  ***Chapter 19***

  Erin and Sean spent much of Sunday doing very little. After mass they returned to the apartment and just spent time together, talking, catching up, and making love.

  By Monday, Erin was starting to feel better. The ache of her lacerated heart was fading in the wake of Sean’s tender affection. This was a good thing, because he had to work. His vacation would begin Thursday. Christmas wasn’t until Sunday, and the company was restoring a couple of houses in town. While working outside in the winter wasn’t feasible, there was no reason they couldn’t lay flooring, reconfigure walls, replace outdated wiring, and so on. Business for Murphy Construction and Renovation was very good.

  As Sean kissed his wife goodbye, he was pleased to note that the strain she had been showing was almost gone.

  "I love you Erin. I’ll see you tonight."

  "I love you too. Have a good day."

  Left to her own devices, Erin looked around the apartment for something to do. While she was not a huge fan of cleaning, it would pass the time, so she washed dishes, vacuumed, and dusted. It only took about two hours. Just as she was contemplating what to do next, and whether the neighbors would object to the sounds of the oboe filtering though the walls and floor, the telephone rang.

  "Hello?"

  "Oh hello Erin. I’m glad I found you." It was Ellen.

  "What can I do for you?" Erin was still a little wary.

  "I wanted to invite you over today. I’m making Christmas ornaments, and I was wondering if you would be interested in joining me."

  "Sure. I’ve never made ornaments before. When should I come?"

  "Right away."

  So Erin took the invitation. She wasn’t sure exactly what it all meant, but she wasn’t about to refuse.

  She drove across town to the Murphy home and rang the doorbell.

  This time when Ellen met her her, it was with a demeanor so altered it confused her even more. Her mother-in-law greeted her with a warm hug and pressed a cup of cocoa into her hands. Erin sipped it, grateful for the warmth on such a cold day, and found it rich with vanilla and cream. Delicious.

  Ellen escorted her into the kitchen, where the table had been spread with newspaper. On one side was a cutting board with some kind of very strange brown dough sitting in a lump. Across the table was a box of colorful glass balls, the ones that could be purchased very cheaply at any discount store. Beside them was a set of poster paints and so
me brushes.

  Erin looked at the scene but didn’t know what to make of it.

  "What should I do?"

  "Why don’t you start by rolling out the cinnamon dough? Then you can cut it with the cookie cutters and we bake it for a long time until it’s hard. It makes lovely smelling ornaments, but they really only last one year."

  "Oh, sure. I can do that." Erin grabbed the rolling pin. "How thick?"

  "About a quarter inch."

  She got to work and soon had a pan full of stars, bells, and little reindeer ready to be baked. Ellen in the meanwhile was painting designs on the balls.

  Erin peeked at what she was doing, and gasped. Ellen had painstakingly crafted a traditional Madonna, in a blue headdress, sitting in a stable with a cow on one side and a donkey on the other, gazing adoringly at a stone manger filled with hay, where a baby lay wrapped in a blanket.

  "Did you really paint that? It’s amazing. I had no idea you were such an artist."

  "I’m not. I went to art school for a while, but I dropped out."

  "Why?"

  "Well," Ellen blushed a little, "I had been seeing Roger for a while, and I… became pregnant."

  Erin raised her eyebrows.

  "Really?"

  "Yes. With Sean. I was nineteen at the time."

  Erin looked at her mother-in-law consideringly for a moment.

  "Why are you telling me this?"

  "I’m trying to make things better between us. I said some unkind things and I regret them. I’m not happy that you two felt compelled to keep your relationship a secret, but I’m not so perfect either. I want you to know that I forgive you. Also, I have never for a moment thought that you were selfish. You need to know that. I was thankful and grateful for all your help."

  "Thank you. You know, I was pregnant once too."

  "You were?"

  "Yes. At the same time as Danny. I had a miscarriage."

  "I’m so sorry. I had a miscarriage between Jason and Sheridan. It hurts, doesn’t it? But you know what, having a baby helps a lot."

  "That’s good to know."

  "Those look good, dear. Why don’t you pop them in the oven? It’s already on."

  Erin carried the try away and considered what she had been told. She wasn’t sure why Ellen was being so nice, but she appreciated it. Not to mention that sharing those difficult memories created a bond of empathy between the women. Now each one knew the other’s secret pain. It made a difference.

  While the cinnamon ornaments perfumed the kitchen, Erin sat down next to Ellen and watched her paint.

  "Would you like to try one dear?"

  "I don’t know how. What if I mess it up?"

  "It’s not a problem if you do. The paint washes off until it’s dried, and even if it’s hopeless, so what? Both the paint and the balls are very cheap. If you have to throw it away it’s no great loss. Give it a try."

  Erin carefully selected a ball in a warm gold tone and picked up a brush. What to paint? Concentrating intensely Erin began to work on the little decoration. She messed up. Rolling her eyes she washed off the paint and tried again, and messed up again. This was hard.

  "Don’t give up dear." Ellen said, sensing Erin’s frustration, "new things are always difficult." She began to sing softly. Erin listened to the quiet melody. Away in a Manger. The soothing lullaby, in her mother-in-law’s delicate voice, released Erin’s nervous tension.

  She nodded and tried again, and gradually began to sing along. She didn’t have the best voice, but this was a Christmas carol, so who cared. The two women sang softly while they painted. This time Erin made progress. By being very careful she managed to paint the ball without messing it up again. It wasn’t anything like what Ellen was doing, but for a first attempt, it was actually rather nice. She had painted a simplified but recognizable version of the Murphy family house, with its snowy yard on each side, and fireplace smoke pouring from the chimney. All around it she had dotted white to represent snowflakes. Underneath it she had painstakingly traced the word ‘home’. She showed it to her mother-in-law.

  "Oh, that’s very good dear. When it dries, I’ll add it to the ornaments we’ll put on the tree. Our family has a tradition of decorating together, as you might recall, which I would like to do Wednesday, when Sheridan gets home. Will you and Sean be able to come?"

  "I think so, but I’ll have to check with him."

  "Oh good. By the way, I have something to ask of you. Everyone in this family has an ornament made specifically for them. Would you be willing to let me make one for you?"

  "Why would I not be willing?"

  "Well normally I put a strand of hair inside it. It’s a transparent ball you see. For each of my children I took a curl from their first haircut and put it inside along with their name, their birth date, and some kind of decoration. In order to make one for you, I would need a piece of your hair."

  "Oh, that’s fine." Erin tried to sound nonchalant, but having an ornament of her own to hang on the Murphy family Christmas tree was more of a statement about her place in the family than she had received so far. Her eyes swam a little.

  Immediately, Ellen left the room and returned with a manicure kit. Taking out a pair of tiny scissors, she lifted Erin’s hair and cut off a tiny section from underneath.

  She threaded it into a hollow glass ball and capped it with a gold ornament hanger. Then she returned to painting as though nothing had happened.

  "Erin," she said after a moment, "how is my daughter? Sean says she’s better. Is she?"

  "Yes. Almost back to normal."

  "Oh, that’s good. Have you met Dr. Burke?"

  "Yes. She told you about him, did she?"

  "Yes. She mentions him often. I’m not really clear on what kind of relationship they have though. Is this just a professor she has a crush on, or are they involved?"

  "Honestly, I don’t know. I think it’s somewhere in between. It’s like they like each other but neither is able to make a move yet."

  "What kind of man is he?"

  "Hard to say. What Sheridan tells me doesn’t fit with my observations during the small amount of time I spent in his class. To me he seemed grumpy and withdrawn, but he might just be really shy. He’s very sweet with her, and the way he looks at her is intense."

  "How old is he? I never really could grasp that part."

  "I don’t think he’s very old. I would be surprised if he’s much more than thirty. He may be younger than that. He must be one of those genius types. Maybe that’s why he sometimes seems so awkward. But his admiration of her is clear. I just don’t know if anything will ever come of it. I am glad, though, that she’s able to be attracted to a man again."

  "Yes. So am I. For her sake, I hope he comes around. Well that’s enough ornaments for this year. Would you like some lunch? I’ve been thinking about soup and a sandwich."

  "Thank you. I would like that."

  Ellen took out a container of homemade tomato basil soup and popped it in the microwave while Erin arranged deli chicken and lettuce on small buns with a smear of pesto mayonnaise.

  They sat together at the bar, since the table was such a mess.

  "Thank you for inviting me today Mrs. Murphy," Erin said softly, "I’ve had a really good time."

  "You’re welcome. It was nice to have you." Ellen smiled. "But you don’t have to call me Mrs. Murphy. Ellen will do. But if you wanted, and I understand if you don’t dear, I would be glad for you to call me mom."

  Erin blinked. Then she reached over and grabbed the older woman in a tight hug.

  "Goodness dear," Mrs. Murphy exclaimed, startled.

  Erin kissed her on the cheek. Then they both returned to their lunch in silence.

  ******

  That day proved to be a turning point. Erin was grateful for Mrs. Murphy’s altered attitude, of course, and the more time Ellen spent with Erin, now that her guard was lowered, the more she remembered why she had always liked the girl so much. Many times over the years she had wi
shed she could take Erin away from her careless parents and keep her. Now, it appeared, she finally could. And it was fun to have another woman around to do things with. She had missed that when Sheridan left for college, and she knew Sean was right, that her daughter had left this place and would not come back except as a guest. Her life was elsewhere now, and rightly so.

  ***Chapter 20***

  Christmas morning dawned bright and cheerful under a blanket of new fallen snow, and the young Murphys woke up early, snuggled in Sean’s old bed in his parents’ house, as they had stayed the night. It had been fun, especially when Sean pulled her into his arms and instructed her to be silent while he did everything he could to make her scream. She had not been nearly as quiet as the last time they had made love in this bed, and Erin hoped the elder Murphys hadn’t heard anything. It was rather too much to hope that Sheridan, on the other side of the wall, had not. Erin’s cheeks turned a little pink when her friend gave her a knowing glance as they descended the stairs together.

  "So much for a silent night," she teased, and Erin giggled.

  Sean laughed, his arm around Erin’s waist, saying, "quiet, Sis. You’re innocent as new fallen snow and didn’t hear a thing."

  "Of course."

  They all headed into the kitchen for cups of rich coffee before assembling in the living room. Sean pulled Erin to sit beside him on the loveseat while Ellen and Roger claimed the sofa. Sheridan, as the youngest, had been enlisted to hand out the gifts. As everyone was an adult, there weren’t masses of presents, but each one was thoughtfully chosen. They took turns opening them.

  Roger got a new tie from his daughter, featuring Snoopy and Woodstock. It was a tremendous joke since, as a builder, he rarely wore ties anyway, and this was hardly something he would ever put on. His wife had given him homemade fudge, the same as every year, and he ate a piece immediately. Erin had heard about his sweet tooth and when he opened her gift to reveal a box of chocolate liqueurs, he was delighted. From his son he received a new socket wrench, something he had needed, and he proclaimed his Christmas perfect.