The Gift of Goodbye

by Kleven, M. Kay

  “Sounds like fun. Text me,” Mara’s mom whispered as the lights went down in the auditorium and up on the stage as Blake came out to take a bow and sit down at the grand piano.

  Once again, I became mesmerized by the grandeur of the piano and Blake’s handsome profile as he sat at the piano playing one classical piece after another. He was so sophisticated. I could hardly breathe as I watched his fingers fly over the keys, filling the room with unbelievable sounds. Other than the music, you could hear a pin drop in the hall. The audience clapped after each song, but raised the roof when he stood up and took a bow after his final selection. With the encouragement of the crowd, Blake played two encore pieces, then thanked everyone and took his final bow.

  “You can breathe now, Anna Louise.” Mara chuckled, tapping me on the arm.

  I threw my arms around her and thanked her for bringing me to Carnegie Hall tonight.

  “You’re welcome. You’re welcome,” Mara replied, laughing as we all stood up. “Blake said we should join him backstage when it’s over. Would you like to see him again, Anna Louise?”

  “I’d love to. Will your parents be coming, too?”

  “I’m sure. Are you and Dad coming backstage to see Blake?” Mara asked her mom.

  “Yes. We are, dear. Let’s all follow your dad through the crowd as we make our way backstage.”

  “Tell Dad we’re right behind him.”

  As we entered Blake’s dressing room, Mara jumped into his arms. “Great job, big brother.”

  “Thanks, little sister. Who have you brought with you?”

  “Blake. This is Anna Louise Armstrong our neighbor and my best friend during high school in Wisteria.”

  Blake did a double-take, then said with a twinkle in his eyes, “You’re lovely, Anna Louise.”

  “Thank you. Congratulations. Your performance was extraordinary.” I could feel myself blush as I captured the moment. “Mara said you’re at Julliard now. I’m taking piano lessons at The School of Musicals Arts here in Manhattan.”

  “I am at Julliard. Mara told me the two of you were roommates in SoHo, but guess I just sort of blew it off. Glad you came tonight, Anna Louise.” He turned to his parents. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” He hugged his mom and shook hands with his dad.

  The four of us were like bodyguards surrounding Blake—his parents on either side of him, while Mara and I followed behind—as we made our way through the crowd toward the entrance of Carnegie Hall. Blake and his parents would catch a cab to his apartment, while Mara and I would catch another to SoHo. What an incredible evening it’d been for me.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next day was Sunday, so as Mara and I sipped away on our coffee at eleven o’clock in the morning, we looked around the apartment and decided we needed to do some straightening up and cleaning before her parents and Blake came to visit. We loved our tall tree and other Christmas decorations, but we hadn’t dusted any of the furniture or vacuumed the rugs lately. The wooden floors throughout our apartment needed to be gently vacuumed and polished, too. We made a list of what needed to be done, then, as soon as we’d had lunch, we each tied a bandana around our hair and set to work. It took us all afternoon, but when we were finished the place was spic-and-span once again.

  “Hi, Mom,” Mara said as she collapsed onto the sofa. “Anna Louise has her piano lesson tomorrow night, so would Tuesday work for you and I to go shopping, then meet Dad, Blake, and Anna Louise for dinner before coming back here for a cup of coffee or tea?”

  Mara sat up straighter on the sofa as she said to me, “Mom’s checking with Dad and Blake to see if Tuesday evening would work out for all of them.”

  The next thing I heard Mara say was, “Let’s meet at eleven o’clock inside Saks Fifth Avenue and go from there. This will be our first time Christmas shopping together in New York. It should be fun. See you on Tuesday. Bye.”

  Tuesday turned out to be a beautiful day in Manhattan. Snow had been softly falling all day and, even though I was nervous, I looked forward to seeing Mara’s parents and Blake for dinner, then returning to SoHo.

  As I stepped inside the Sir Lancelot Hotel and Restaurant a little after six o’clock, where we’d all agreed to meet, my eyes went immediately to Mara and all of the bags she was holding. “Can I help you with some of those, ma’am?” I asked, laughing.

  “You certainly can,” she replied as I took several of the packages from her. Her mom didn’t seem to be weighed down nearly as much as Mara was.

  “Hello, everyone,” Mara’s dad said cheerfully as he and Blake came through the door.

  All three of us replied, “Good evening.”

  “I made reservations for seven o’clock,” Blake said, so maybe I’d better check in with the maître d. After checking, a gentleman soon appeared and led the way to our table, holding the chair for Mrs. Holbrook.

  Shortly thereafter, the waiter stepped forward with our menus and a greeting. “Welcome to the Sir Lancelot. Have a wonderful evening.”

  I couldn’t help but gaze around at the renaissance décor and fireplace that was warmly burning not far from us. The table setting was exquisite with a tall Christmas bouquet in a crystal pedestal vase standing in the middle. Our waiter stood nearby. Glancing over at Blake, I said, “You have excellent taste if you chose this restaurant for tonight.”

  “Thank you. The Sir Lancelot is one of my favorite places to eat in New York.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Everything was delicious, but I lost track after about the third or fourth course. My eyes met Mara’s. We tried not to giggle.

  On the way out, Mara’s dad suggested he and Blake take one cab to SoHo while the ladies take another. The packages would ride with the men.

  “Come on in,” Mara shouted to her dad and Blake as they climbed out of their cab, loaded down with bag after bag.

  I held the door as Mara’s parents and Blake followed Mara to the elevator to take them up to our apartment.

  I started heating water for the coffee and tea as Mara took the packages from her dad and Blake, then happily showed them around our apartment.

  “I have to say your apartment certainly reminds me of the two of you,” Mara’s mom said. “Even the seven-foot-tall tree. Did you two decorate the tree yourselves?”

  “With the help of a step-stool,” I replied. “What would each of you like to drink? We have a number of flavored coffees or tea, but if you’d like regular, we have that, too.” Blake and his father settled on regular coffee, while Mara, her mom, and I all chose to have a cup of green tea with cinnamon sticks. The smell of cinnamon filled the apartment.

  As the room grew quiet, I knew everyone was getting sleepy. “Thank you,” I said again to each of Mara’s parents and Blake. “It was a wonderful evening. I’m glad the three of you were able to see where Mara and I live in SoHo.”

  Blake stood first, then his parents. “I’ll call a cab, then we can head back to my place and let these two lovely ladies get some rest.”

  Mara stuck her tongue out at her brother.

  “Okay, you two,” Mara’s mom said in earnest, glancing over at me. “It’s been a spectacular day. I want to thank you and Mara.”

  “Cab’s here, Mom,” Blake blurted out, eyeing me with a twinkle in his eyes.

  ~ ~ ~

  The rest of the Christmas season turned out to be a little crazy for me, with my busy schedule at the Emporium, my lessons with Ms. Thompson, and now my visits to see Savannah in the hospital. So as the holiday approached, I mostly caught the end of Mara’s long, red and white striped scarf as she raced out the door to go Christmas shopping with her mom or as she flew by me to open the door for Daniel on their out way to visit another art gallery. Then, there were the evenings when I didn’t see her at all because she and Daniel had gone out early to sit in the back row of an Off Broadway show t
o watch a number of new and aspiring actors display their talents. Needless to say, I’d rarely seen her since her parents and Blake had visited SoHo, but when I did, she was always bubbling over with tales to tell me. Tonight was different, though. She seemed to have something to say.

  “Anna Louise. Mom and I had more time today to just sit and enjoy our lunch together. She told me all about your sister’s fabulous wedding ceremony at the church followed by the reception at the Wisteria Country Club.” Clearing her throat, Mara continued. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but your mother was drinking a lot and making a fool out of herself in front of everyone until your father finally had to take her out of the reception hall.”

  “Oh no,” I cried out. “My poor father. I had hoped things would change once I was out of her hair, but guess that’s not the way alcohol works with someone like my mom. I’m sorry your parents had to witness my mother like that.”

  “Everyone in Wisteria knows about your mom, Anna Louise. She’s the only one that can’t see it. I feel bad for your brother and your father having to live with her.”

  “Yes. With her, everyone else is the problem, not her. Thanks for telling me. That’s what friends do.” I didn’t want to dwell on my mother’s behavior at my sister’s wedding, so I took Mara by the arm and headed toward the kitchen to find something for us to eat. “Have a chair. I’ll cook.”

  “Do you think she’ll ever seek the help she needs?” Mara asked.

  “I doubt it, but I’ll email Dad after we eat and ask him what’s going on with Mom. It’s time for me to tell him what I know. I’m sure he already knows, but he needs to hear it directly from me. My sister lives in her own little world. I’m just glad the wedding is over and hope she lives happily ever after.”

  “Wow! You are angry about your mom and how she treated you all those years growing up.”

  “I guess I am. Just didn’t realize how much. Sorry, Mara,” I replied, pulling a package out of the freezer. “Would you like hot dogs or how about a hot dog?”

  “You know you’re crazy, don’t you?” Mara giggled as she jumped up and hugged me. “I’d love a hot dog on a bun with cheese, ketchup, mustard, and relish, ma’am.”

  “Funny you should say that. My mom used to call me crazy all of the time.” I started to laugh, then barked out, “One hot dog with everything coming right up.”

  Mara and I talked while we ate, then as she did the dishes, I emailed my dad.

  Hi, Dad.

  I’d ask how you are, but Mara and her mom, who is in New York with her dad for Blake’s concert at Carnegie Hall and the holidays, were out Christmas shopping and had lunch together today. Of course, Charlotte’s wedding and the reception came up in their conversation.

  I have never told you this, but I have known for a long time that Mom is an alcoholic. I’m sorry she embarrassed you, but that’s exactly why I couldn’t come home for the wedding. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive her for the way she treated me growing up. You protected me the best you could, but she was very clever in her punishment of me. I hope she’ll agree to receive help one day, but I’m not going to hold my breath on that one.

  Thomas and I have developed a new normal at the Emporium since the bombing and Mr. Cutler’s death. It’s still hard not having Mr. Cutler’s steady hand at the helm guiding us, but know he would want us to carry on his dream. I miss him every day, but I miss you, too. Say hi to Grant.

  I’ll be spending Christmas with Mara and her family at Blake’s apartment. Have a Merry Christmas!

  I love you,

  Anna Louise

  Chapter 8

  Like a child, Mara was awake early on Christmas Day. I could hear her out in the living room, so figured she was plugging in the Christmas tree lights and shaking the packages. When I smelled coffee, which I craved right now, coming from the kitchen and heard her slippers scuffing down the hall toward my room, I ducked my head under one of the pillows, only to have her grab it and scream “Merry Christmas” in my ear.

  “Wake up, it’s Christmas Day. Let’s open our gifts to one another, then have breakfast before getting dressed to go and share the rest of the day with my parents and Blake at his apartment.” She was now jumping up and down on my bed with her legs on either side of me.

  “Speaking of crazy, you’re a perfect example of it. But Merry Christmas, my friend. I’ll be right out to have a cup of coffee with you while we open our gifts.”

  “Meet you in the kitchen in thirty seconds or less,” Mara chirped.

  Mara drank her cup of coffee at warp speed, then adjourned to the living room to search under the tree for our gifts to each other. I took a couple sips of my coffee, then joined her. I recognized the bright Christmas wrap the store had used for Mara’s gift, but the Christmas wrap on my gift from Mara had to be an original created by none other than Mara Holbrook. It was bright, it was cheery, and it said Christmas all over it. Mara had her gift half open by the time I sat down.

  “Oh, Anna Louise, I love it.” She held up the bright-green tote bag with the colorful, iridescent butterflies flying about that I’d gotten her. The bag could hold a few of her paintings. She wouldn’t have to carrying them under her arm anymore. “I’ll be right back,” she sang out as she ran into her room and returned with a couple of her paintings, slipping them into her new bag.

  I opened my gift to find a framed five-by-seven-inch black and white sketch of Mr. Cutler and me smiling together in front of a baby grand piano. I began to cry as I dug in the box for the easel to set it on. “This is beyond precious,” I said to Mara through my tears. “Thank you. I’ll have to take it to the Emporium with me to show Thomas. Has Daniel seen it?”

  “Yes. I showed it to him before I wrapped it. He cried too.”

  “I know what I’ll do. I’ll ask Thomas if I can set it on the small writing desk by the phone so I can see Mr. Cutler every day. His smile always encouraged me to do the best I could.”

  “We’d better get dressed to go to Blake’s now. Let’s put their gifts in a couple of bags and set them by the door so we don’t forget them,” Mara suggested.

  We both chose slim dresses for the day that touched just above the knee. Mine was red and Mara’s was green. Original, huh? Lunch was to be served at noon, so as soon as we were ready, we threw on our long, warm coats, grabbed a scarf, then the gifts, and made our way out the door and into the waiting cab. Mara knew I was nervous, so she chatted away at how Blake not only attended Julliard, but how he performed in concerts all over the United States and abroad now. That I’d probably find his apartment grand in comparison to ours, but he was still Blake Holbrook from Wisteria, Kansas, as if that would calm me down.

  Mara sent Blake a text that we were arriving, so he met us in the lobby of his apartment building, which had a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling. “Merry Christmas to both of you,” he said cheerfully. “Follow me and I’ll take you up to my apartment where Mom and Dad are waiting.”

  As he opened the door to his apartment, I was in awe. I wasn’t even sure if I should step on the plush, gray carpet. Mara rushed in and hugged her Mom and Dad. There were Christmas greetings all around. They made me feel right at home, as if I were part of the family. I only tensed up again when Blake came over and sat down on the piano bench near the sofa loveseat Mara and I was sitting on.

  “So, Anna Louise, I believe you said you’re taking lessons at The School of Musical Arts.”

  “You remembered. I am. Have you heard of it?”

  “I have. One of my best friends went through the program before enrolling at Julliard. He said the program is run by a Mrs. Kristina McKenzie.

  “That’s right, but the school is supported primarily by Mr. Samuel J. Cutler in honor of his wife. She died some time ago, but Mr. Cutler was just recently killed in the bombings near the Piano Emporium, whi
ch he owned, and where I work. He hired me. His son, Thomas, owns it now.”

  “I was sorry to hear about Mr. Cutler. I bought my piano from him.” He paused for a second, then said, “I’ll have to be sure to tell my friend Adam that you’re in the program at The School of Musical Arts.” Standing up, he strolled toward the kitchen to check on lunch.

  Returning, Blake asked us to be seated at the table. It seemed he had hired a cook and staff to serve us Christmas lunch. We were presented with a scrumptious crown rib roast surrounded by cranberries. There were a number of side dishes, including wild rice pilaf and cashew-peach sweet potatoes. Warm rolls and breads also made their way around the table. Ice water in crystal glasses and goblets filled with a delightful, red punch sat above our plates. As we ate, I listened to the Holbrooks reminisce about past Christmases and to the barbs they exchanged about good-old Wisteria, Kansas. They laughed and told jokes. Mara being the funniest, of course. I smiled and laughed right along with them. After thinking we couldn’t eat another bite, one of the staff asked if we’d like dessert, a Devil’s Food Caramel Torte.

  “It sounds delicious,” Mrs. Holbrook said. “Could we maybe have it later with our coffee?”

  “Sure, ma’am,” came the reply.

  Blake’s apartment must have been professionally decorated for the holidays. It was magnificent and the whole place smelled of pine and cinnamon. His tree was tall, like ours, but that was where the similarities ended. His was beautifully decorated with white lights, all turquoise ornaments, with gold ribbon threaded throughout, and a shining star on the top. The tree sat in between two windows that looked out on to one of Manhattan’s streets. I didn’t see many folks on the sidewalk below, which seemed strange to me now that I’d lived in New York for a while.

  Mr. Holbrook played Santa Claus and passed out the gifts to each of us until there weren’t any left under the tree. There were oohs and ahhs from everyone as we opened our gifts. Mara let out a screech when she saw that her parents had given her an amazing array of paints, canvases, and a new easel. She hugged them both with tears in her eyes. I had received a couple of lovely, soft wool scarves, one in a red paisley and one in green, to wrap around my neck this winter while making my way back and forth to the Emporium.