Silver Threads

by Bette Lee Crosby

Once that thought settled in her head she could almost imagine a daughter exactly like Brooke, but this child had Elizabeth’s dark hair and eyes.

  The second week of her stay, Elizabeth found an apartment that suited her perfectly. It was a tiny one-bedroom in a red brick building smack in the center of Burnsville, furnished with sleek gray sofas, teal carpeting and abstract prints. Although she preferred the more traditional mahogany styles, the apartment was tastefully decorated. With its double window overlooking a boulevard of coffee shops and boutiques it was actually quite pleasant, the kind of place a person could enjoy coming home to. The only problem was that it would not be available until December twenty-eighth. Given the fact that she was enjoying her stay at Memory House so much, the late availability wasn’t much of an issue.

  Once she’d paid her deposit on the apartment, Elizabeth had little to do but relax and enjoy the remaining weeks until she began her new job. Most mornings she rose early and went for a run. Sometimes she ran along Lakeside Drive. Other days she ran along Delaware Street, which took her into the heart of town and past the shops on Washington Street. Always she listened to music on her iPod.

  Sometimes it was the sweet sound of Taylor Swift; other days she’d rock out with Lady Gaga. The music made her feel alive. When she ran there was no Elliott, no looking back. There was only the pounding of her feet against the sidewalk and matching her steps to the rhythm of the music.

  The days of December fairly flew by, and before Elizabeth knew what happened it was December twenty-second. Brooke would leave the next day for California to spend Christmas with her grandparents.

  Elliott had walked out just three weeks before the holiday, so the previous year there was no Christmas. The day came and went without Elizabeth ever getting out of bed. She’d burrowed down beneath her grandmother’s quilt and cried from dawn to dark. Never again, she’d sworn. Never again.

  Although she barely had one foot settled inside this new life, Elizabeth decided it was time to celebrate. The morning of the twenty-second she left the house early, drove into town and parked in front of the red brick apartment building as if she was already a resident. The weather had turned warm earlier in the week, and the sun on her face felt good. At Starbucks she bought a latte and sat at one of the curbside tables. Pulling her phone from her purse, she went to the Notes app and began making a shopping list.

  Annie – Christmas apron & fancy teapot

  Oliver – a bottle of cognac for Christmas eggnog

  Starr – Barbie doll

  Ethan – toy truck

  Elizabeth stopped and thought for a moment. She pictured how the boy squealed and toddled off with the Barbie doll when Starr was playing, then deleted “truck” and tapped in a Ken doll for Ethan.

  For Brooke…She wanted something special, but what? Elizabeth sipped her latte and tried to remember something Brooke might have mentioned. They’d spoken of so many things, but there was no one item she could pinpoint.

  When she’d drained the last of the coffee, Elizabeth left Starbucks and crossed over to the Gift Garden. She’d intended to buy just the apron and teapot, but she came away with a shopping bag filled to the brim. She returned to the car, deposited the bag of gift-wrapped packages in the trunk then continued on down the boulevard. At Vine and Barley, she bought a bottle of Courvoisier Cognac, had it gift wrapped then moved on to Turner’s Toys.

  The last gift she bought was for Brooke. She’d window-shopped every store in town then walked back to where one thing had caught her eye. She wrote a note on the gift card, slid it inside the box then asked to have it gift-wrapped. When the clerk handed her the tiny box wrapped in silver foil, she tucked it inside her purse.

  On the drive home Elizabeth snapped on the radio and sang along with the Christmas carols. For the first time in over a year she felt happy. It was not the same blind happiness she got from running. This was more of a deep down, satisfied-with-who-you-are kind of contentment.

  By the time she arrived back at Memory House, Brooke was already there. When the door clicked open, she came racing through the hall and wrapped her arms around Elizabeth.

  “I thought I wouldn’t get to see you,” she said anxiously.

  Elizabeth was loaded down with shopping bags, but she bent and kissed the top of Brooke’s head.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

  That afternoon Elizabeth unplugged her earphones, put the Pandora Christmas music station on her iPod and turned up the volume. She placed it on the kitchen counter, and they all gathered around the table. Annie set out a platter of homemade Christmas cookies and mugs of hot chocolate with honey-sweetened cream floating on the top.

  Excited about the upcoming trip, Brooke said, “This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”

  “It’s already the best in a long time for me,” Elizabeth said.

  That afternoon minutes before Drew pulled into the driveway and beeped his horn, Brooke reached inside her backpack and took out a clumsily wrapped package. She handed the package to Elizabeth.

  “I made this for you. It’s so you’ll remember I’m your friend.”

  A tear glistened in Elizabeth’s eye as she unwrapped the gift. Inside the stuck together paper was a Christmas ball decorated with what looked like red nail polish. On one side it read Miss Elizabeth and on the other side Brooke. Between the two names was a lopsided heart.

  The tear spilled as Elizabeth hugged Brooke to her chest and said, “It’s the best present ever.”

  Then she pulled the small silver box from her purse and handed it to Brooke.

  “This is for you. Put it into your suitcase and wait until Christmas Day to open it, okay?”

  Brooke hitched her shoulders up in excitement and gave a nod.

  “Okay,” she said then hurried out the door.

  Elizabeth Cunningham

  It’s funny how things you’ve believed for all the years of your life can sometimes turn out not to be true. I’ve always thought having a man love me heart and soul would bring me happiness. As a girl I dreamed a Prince Charming would sweep me off my feet and carry me off to a land of happy-ever-after.

  That’s not what happened. Elliott and I had difficulties right from the start. I never recognized the source of our problem and kept thinking that once we crossed this bridge of contention we’d find happiness on the other side. Of course we didn’t.

  Now after all those years of searching for happiness, I find it in a place I stumbled on by accident. I was headed for Dorchester, but that night the rain was almost blinding and I didn’t see the exit sign until I passed it. The only thing I could do was to get off at the next exit, which just happened to be Burnsville.

  Don’t ask what led me to Memory House, because I honestly don’t know. The only thing I remember is standing on the porch and Annie inviting me in. That very first night I had a strange feeling this was exactly where I was supposed to be. It’s got to be fate; there simply is no other explanation.

  Being here has opened my eyes as to what love is and what it isn’t. Brooke is only a child, but I’ve learned a lot from her. Despite the hardships she’s gone through, she still has room in her heart to love her little dog, the twins, Annie and me. I look at her and think if she’s brave enough to move forward, surely I can also.

  Thinking about yourself is what locks a person into feeling miserable. Once you move on to thinking about someone else, you don’t have time to concentrate on the thing that’s been bothering you. The day I went Christmas shopping, I was so focused on finding gifts to make Brooke and Annie happy that I completely forgot about feeling lonely and forgotten.

  Next week I move into the apartment, and a few days later I’ll start my new job. It’s an exciting time, and despite all that’s happened I’m happier now than I’ve been in many years.

  Before long I’ll be leaving Memory House, but I’m not leaving the friendships I’ve found here. Those I’m going to keep forever.

 
A California Christmas

  When Drew called to tell Sylvia and Edgar Green that he and Brooke would be coming to California so she could spend Christmas with her grandparents, there were several moments of silence.

  Thinking perhaps he’d lost the connection he said, “Mother Green?”

  “I’m here,” she replied. “Just checking my calendar. What day did you say you’d be arriving?”

  “December twenty-third. It’s an early flight, so we’ll be landing in Los Angeles at four-fifteen.”

  Sylvia clucked in disappointment. “The freeway is crazy at that time. Isn’t there a flight that’s a bit later?”

  “The evening flight was totally booked.”

  “Oh.”

  He heard another span of silence then a bit of muffled conversation in the background.

  “Okay,” Sylvia finally said. “I just spoke to Edgar, and we can work it out.”

  Although Drew felt put out by her lack of enthusiasm, he kept his voice light and casual.

  “Great.” He rattled off the flight details.

  Since this was their first Christmas without Jennifer, Drew was determined not to let it drag Brooke down. Whatever heartache he felt he would keep to himself. Spending the holiday with her grandparents would keep Brooke busy, and hopefully she wouldn’t think about the missing piece of their family.

  On three different occasions they’d gone Christmas shopping, and by the time they were ready to leave the canvas carry-on was filled with wrapped presents. For Edgar Drew bought a box of the expensive cigars he enjoyed and for Sylvia a bottle of Chanel No. 5, her trademark fragrance.

  Brooke did her own shopping, most of it at the Gift Garden. She’d gone back and forth trying to decide on the right gift for Edgar, who was at best difficult to please. In the end she selected a “World’s Greatest Grandpa” ashtray even though he never allowed himself to be called anything other than Daddy Green. For Sylvia she bought a lace-trimmed tee shirt with “Grandma” spelled out in rhinestones.

  “Grandma is going to love this,” she’d said, her eyes aglow.

  ~ ~ ~

  When the plane touched down in Los Angeles, Drew expected to see Edgar waiting at the luggage carousel. That was the plan. Instead he spotted “Bishop” scrawled on a placard held by a limousine driver.

  After he’d claimed their luggage, he walked over and introduced himself.

  “I’m Drew Bishop,” he said. “Are you here to pick us up?”

  The driver nodded, took the suitcase from Drew and then led them back to where the car was parked. Just as Sylvia had predicted the freeway was bumper-to-bumper traffic, and it took almost two hours to reach Glendale.

  While the driver was still unloading the luggage, Brooke dashed up the steps and bonged the doorbell. The moment it swung open Daddy Green stepped out. He gave Brooke an affectionate pat on the head and shook hands with Drew.

  “Glad you could make it,” he said.

  By then Sylvia had scooped her granddaughter into her arms and was gushing about how wonderful it was to see her.

  “You look just like your mama,” she cooed happily.

  Brooke grinned. “Daddy says that too.”

  Sylvia glanced at Drew then, and he saw something in the look. Just a touch of sadness. A moment later she shook herself, and the look was gone.

  As Sylvia continued the comparison recalling how Jennifer’s eyes had been the exact same blue-green color, Drew carried the suitcases to their rooms. When he returned Daddy Green had a pitcher of margaritas waiting. They gathered at the table on the back patio.

  It was a balmy evening, the kind that in Virginia would have heralded the coming of summer. The faint scent of jasmine was in the air, and from time to time a breeze rustled through the branches of the juniper trees in the backyard. After a while darkness settled around them, and the lights flickered on. The fountain came to life and sent an arc of water splashing into the pool. Brooke’s eyes glistened at the sight of it. Mesmerized, she watched for a few moments then turned to Sylvia.

  “Grandma, this is like a magic house.”

  Sylvia gave a smile of satisfaction. “Yes, it is. And you could live here if your daddy would allow it.”

  She expected Brooke to start badgering Drew to do so, but Brooke didn’t.

  “We have a magical house too,” she said. “There’s a balcony in my room, and across the pond I can see Miss Annie’s house. She has a store and makes real magic potions.”

  Sylvia laughed. “I’m afraid there’s no such thing as real magic. It’s just an illusion.”

  Brooke shook her head. “No, it’s real magic. Hannah told me so.”

  Sylvia laughed again then moved on to talking of the huge Christmas tree they were planning to have. Drew shook his head.

  “Mother Green, you shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble,” he said.

  “Nonsense! Nothing is too good for my darling little girl,” she replied.

  The sadness from before came back, but this time Drew saw something else. He saw a longing, and he recognized it. It was the same feeling he had when he missed Jennifer.

  Once again the look on his mother-in-law’s face disappeared after a few moments, and she turned her attention to the pool. The twinkling of lights, spray of water and changing colors were all preprogrammed into an automated sequence. Despite the hint of melancholy, the evening did have a quality of magic to it. Even Daddy Green, although he was as blustery as always, seemed happy to be with them. He cooked steaks on the outdoor grill, and they ate dinner on the patio.

  Drew thought maybe he’d made the right decision after all concerning Christmas.

  The following morning when he came downstairs both Sylvia and Edgar were nowhere to be seen, but there was a note on the kitchen counter.

  “Sorry to run,” Sylvia had written. “A dozen last-minute emergencies at the office plus scads of errands to run. Decorama will be arriving this morning to put up the tree. Have them set it in the center hall. Edgar and I should be home by six or so. Tons of food in the fridge. Help yourself.”

  Drew plucked a muffin from the basket on the counter then poured himself a cup of coffee. When sleepy-eyed Brooke came down he fixed her a bowl of cereal. Before they’d finished breakfast the doorbell chimed. On the doorstep were two men wearing Decorama tee shirts. One of them was slight of build and only half as tall as the pine tree they were holding.

  As if the tee shirts weren’t introduction enough the older one said, “Decorama,” then asked where the tree was supposed to be set up.

  “In the center hall,” Drew replied.

  He pulled the door back and stepped aside. Huffing and puffing, the two men carried the tree in and then returned to the truck for a dozen boxes of lights and decorations.

  Brooke finished her Fruit Loops then came padding through the hall to stand and watch. She was content to stay back as they wrestled the big pine into a stand, but once they began to hang the decorations she grabbed a red glass ball and started for the tree. The older man took it from her hand.

  “You’re not union,” he said. “We ain’t insured for non-union.”

  Drew shot him a look of disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

  The Decorama bully shook his head. “We’re a union shop, and that’s the rule. Nobody touches anything unless they’re union.”

  The smile faded from Brooke’s face, and she again stepped back.

  That afternoon the best Drew could do for his daughter was sit beside her as they watched a rerun of It’s a Wonderful Life. As the final credits scrolled across the screen Brooke looked up at her daddy.

  “Is it true?” she asked.

  “Is what true?”

  “Every time a bell rings another angel gets their wings?”

  Drew smiled and gave a barely discernable shrug.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But I’d like to believe it is.”

  “Me too,” she replied.

  Shortly after six Sylvia came hurrying in w
ith a small shopping bag from Glitter, an upscale jewelry store on Rodeo Drive.

  “It’s a madhouse out there,” she said then promised dinner would be on the table in thirty minutes or so.

  “Edgar is stopping to pick up shrimp curry.” She glanced at Drew. “You do like Indian, don’t you?”

  “I’m okay with it,” Drew replied, “but Brooke’s never had it. Jennifer didn’t care for curry, so Indian wasn’t—”

  “That’s odd,” Sylvia cut in. “I could have sworn she loved it.”

  ~ ~ ~

  On Christmas morning everyone gathered in the living room and exchanged presents. Most of the gifts from the Greens were wrapped in the sparkly paper used by Glitter. Drew received a pair of gold cuff links and Brooke a strand of pearls.

  “I thought the pearls would go well with this.” Sylvia handed Brooke the large box from Neiman Marcus. Inside was a red velvet dress with a layered petticoat beneath the skirt.

  “Oh, Grandma, it’s beautiful,” Brooke murmured. She reached around the box to give Sylvia an appreciative hug. After hugging her back Sylvia shooed her off to change into the dress.

  “Having you and your daddy here for Christmas is so special that we’ve arranged a party to celebrate.”

  Upstairs, in the privacy of her own room, Brooke opened her last present. It was the small box Elizabeth slid into her hand as she was leaving. She opened the silver paper and lifted the lid. Inside was a single sheet of notepaper folded over until it was small enough to fit in the box. She lifted the note, and beneath it was an oval-shaped silver locket.

  “Dear Brooke,” the note from Elizabeth read. “Although we’ve only known each other for a short while, you’ve become very special to me so I wanted to give you a Christmas gift that would be special to you. I thought and thought about what would make you happiest, and then I remembered how much you loved your mama. I knew nothing would be as special as always having her close to you, which is why I decided on this locket. Inside there is a place for her picture, and whenever you wear the locket you’ll have your mama right there next to your heart. Merry Christmas. With Love, Elizabeth”