“What made you think of that?”
“I don’t know,” he said. He looked back at her. She looked different now. He could still see the little girl in her. “How old were you when you were diagnosed with celiac?”
“That’s random,” she said. “I don’t know. Just little, I think six.”
He nodded. “Six,” he said. “Of course.”
Snow was lightly falling as they walked out to their car. Matthew opened the door for her, then climbed in the driver’s side, turned on the heater and pulled out of the apartment’s parking lot. The streets were mostly deserted and he pulled into the turn lane at the first intersection they came to. Charlotte looked over at him. “Where are you going?”
“I thought we were going to your Mom’s.”
“This isn’t the way to Mom’s.”
He turned through the intersection, then pulled over to the side of the road. “You know, I have a really bad headache. Would you mind driving?”
“I’m sorry. Of course.”
Matthew climbed out of the car and walked around while Charlotte slid over to the driver’s seat. He climbed in and fastened his seat belt.
“I didn’t know you weren’t feeling well,” Charlotte said. “Are you feeling up to this party?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Charlotte pulled out into the street, made a U-turn, then drove south up toward Big Cottonwood Canyon. Ten minutes later they pulled into a gated subdivision of large, exclusive homes. The road was blocked by a wide red-and-yellow-striped gate arm festively strung with Christmas lights, next to a security guard’s shack. The uniformed guard opened his window. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you,” Charlotte said. “We’re visiting my mother, the Breinholts.”
Breinholts?
“Just a minute, please.” The guard lifted a phone, spoke to someone, then waved them forward as the gate arm rose. A minute later Charlotte pulled into the circular driveway of a large stucco and rock home near the end of the subdivision.
The home was a towering, gabled structure with a massive rock chimney and large gaslight fixtures across the front of the house that flickered against the gray winter sky. Even in winter the landscaping was lush, and large pines in the yard had been professionally wrapped in twinkling Christmas lights. Matthew looked at it in awe. “How many years has she lived here?”
“Ever since she married Kevin.”
He looked at her. Kevin?
“How long ago was that,” Charlotte said to herself, “fourteen years ago? I think I was ten or eleven.”
Matthew looked over the structure. “That is one big house,” he said to himself.
Charlotte stopped the car beneath the stone portico leading to the home’s entrance. “You sure you’re feeling okay? How far did you go on your walk?”
You have no idea, he thought. “A ways.”
“Well, if you need to leave, just let me know. Mom will understand. By the way, Kevin had some cancers removed from his arm, so he has a bunch of bandages, in case you’re wondering.”
“Is he okay?”
“They were just being cautious. You know how Mom is when it comes to cancer.”
They got out of the car and walked up beneath a long portico to the front door—a tall, arched, carved-wood door with heavy brass metal fixtures. Charlotte pushed it open into the bright, marble-floored foyer, and they were met by a rush of light and warmth. “Mom, Dad, we’re here,” she called.
A well-dressed, elegant-looking man, with gray temples walked into the foyer. He wore a broad, pleasant smile. “Charlotte, Matthew, Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” Charlotte said, running to him. They hugged.
“How are you, Matt?”
“Great,” he said. “Merry Christmas.” He motioned to the bandages on Kevin’s arm. “You okay?”
“It’s nothing. All benign, but thanks for asking. You need to try some of my wassail. I think I finally nailed it.”
“I’d love to.”
Kevin said to Charlotte, “Your mom is still putting her face on. She’s been up there for nearly an hour. Maybe with you here she’ll finally come down.”
“I don’t know why she does that,” Charlotte said. “It’s just us.”
“I told her that. But you know your beautiful mom, she always wants to look her best. I’ll let her know you’re here.” He walked to the foot of the circular staircase and shouted, “Beth, the kids are here.”
Just as a journey of a thousand miles ends with a few steps, a wait of decades ends with a few seconds. The time has come.
Beth Cardall’s Diary
I was sitting on the bed when Kevin called upstairs.
“I’ll be right down,” I shouted. I walked back into the bathroom and took another look in the mirror. Even if I could hide the puffiness of my eyes, I couldn’t hide the wrinkles. If he did remember, would I look old to him? Of course I would. To him I was nearly twenty years older. He would look the same as he did last week when he came over to help Kevin install the new television downstairs.
I can’t hide up here forever, I told myself. I took a deep breath, then walked out of the room, down the hall to the stairs. Charlotte and Matthew were in the foyer below. They both looked up at me. “Merry Christmas, Mom,” Charlotte said.
“Merry Christmas, sweetie. You look darling. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.”
I turned to Matthew and said a little too formally, “Merry Christmas, Matthew.”
“Merry Christmas, Mom.”
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I kissed Charlotte, then Matthew. “You need to try Kevin’s wassail,” I said to them.
“He offered,” Matthew said. “I was just making my way to the kitchen.”
“Always something new,” Charlotte said. “Fortunately, everything he makes is fabulous.”
The door chime rang, and before I could even take a step toward the door, it swung open and Roxanne stepped inside. “Anybody home?”
“Rox,” I said.
“Baby doll.” She ran over to hug me. “Merry Christmas, oh, don’t you look delicious. Ray, you just keep your eyes to yourself.”
Ray was a dozen feet behind her, huffing a little and leaning against his cane. “Merry Christmas, Beth.”
“Merry Christmas, Ray. Kevin’s in the kitchen. There’s cold beer in the refrigerator.”
“I’m on it.”
“What is that you’re wearing?” Roxanne said, looking at my cameo. “Is that new?”
“No. It’s very old. I got it back in Capri.”
“Is it—” she stopped herself. Roxanne rarely practiced restraint, but the topic of Capri had always been off limits.
I looked over and noticed that Matthew was staring at me. “It is beautiful,” he said. “When did you get it?”
“Many years ago. A dear friend gave it to me.”
Roxanne said to Matthew, “Hello, you handsome Italian devil. Give me a kiss.”
Matthew grinned. “Hi, Rox.” He kissed her cheek.
“Always the cheek,” she said. “Always the cheek. Just once I’d like a big smack on the lips. And look at you girl,” she said, patting Charlotte’s stomach. “You look just precious with a bun in the oven. And what is that heavenly smell? What is Kevin up to this year?”
“No matter what Daddy makes, you know it’s going to be good,” Charlotte said.
“He’s trying something new this year,” I said. “Italian.”
“Mamma mia,” Rox said, “I just love Italian. Everything Italian. You too,” she said to Matthew. “I should have married me one of them.”
“Should have,” Ray said from the kitchen.
“Let me take your coat.”
I hung her coat in the hall closet, then glanced over at Matthew, who was now walking around the house looking at pictures with one hand in his pocket, a glass of wassail in the other. Kevin called from the kitchen, “Beth, would you mind serving the antipasti?”
“Of course.” I went to the kitchen. Kevin had filled a plate with his bacon-wrapped scallops impaled with toothpicks. I lifted one and popped it into my mouth. “Delicious, honey.”
Kevin smiled at me. “Thanks.”
I lifted the tray. “Scallops, anyone?”
“I’ll have one of those,” said Ray. “Or ten.”
“Matthew?”
“Sure. Thanks.” He took two. “One for Charlotte,” he said.
“She can’t have one,” I said.
“She can’t?”
“You know . . . pregnant women and shellfish.”
“Oh. Sorry. I forgot.” He started to put it back.
“No, keep it. A strapping young man like you can have them both.” I started to walk away, then stopped. “Matthew, would you mind grabbing the napkins?”
“Sure.” He looked around. “Where are they?”
“Where you put them away last time,” I said. He didn’t move. I pointed toward a drawer. “Next to the dishwasher.”
“Right,” he said. He opened the drawer and brought out a handful.
Twenty minutes later Kevin shouted, “Dinner’s ready. Everyone to the dining room.”
Charlotte and I helped Kevin carry the last of the platters to the dining room, where we all congregated.
“Where do you want us to sit, Mom?” Charlotte asked.
“Kevin, you’re at the head. Rox and Ray, you sit right there by me, Matthew, you and Charlotte sit right here.”
When we were seated, Kevin took my hand. “Would you mind saying grace, dear?”
“I’d love to, thank you.” I bowed my head. “Dear Lord, thank you for this beautiful Christmas season and for Christmases past. Thank you for our many blessings and abundance. Thank you for family. We ask thee to bless this food to our good and us to thy service. Amen.”
There was a chorus of amens, the loudest, of course, being Roxanne’s. Kevin said, “Buon appetito.” He turned to Matthew. “Did I say that right?”
“Like a native,” Matthew said.
“What have you made us?” Charlotte asked.
“I thought I would try Italian this year. Prima piatto,” he said, slaughtering the language, “Manicotti. And for our favorite girl’s special diet, manicotti wrapped in spinach, sausage soup and veal Parmesan.”
Charlotte smiled. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“My pleasure, honey.”
Kevin ladled sausage soup into our bowls. When everyone had been served, Charlotte asked Roxanne, “How’s Jan?”
“You know, busy ‘momming’ Ethan junior. He’s five now.”
“We’re Facebook friends,” Charlotte said. “She posts pictures of Ethan almost every day.”
“The boy’s a monster,” Roxanne said. “And he’s only in kindergarten.”
“He’s not a monster,” Ray said, putting a spoon into his mouth.
“He’s a monster,” Rox said, pointing a fork at Ray. “You give birth to a ten-pounder, then you can talk.” She turned back to Charlotte. “When I married Mr. Right, I didn’t know his first name was Always.”
Ray shook his head.
Charlotte laughed. “I always knew she’d make the best mother. She was such a fun babysitter. I was sorry to hear that she wasn’t coming back for the holidays. Christmas isn’t the same without her.”
“She never visits anymore at Christmas. Go figure, especially now that her last name is Klaus. I never thought my daughter would be Mrs. Klaus. I was heartbroken when I found out she wasn’t coming, wasn’t I, Ray?”
“Heartbroken,” he said.
“I guess that Tim is just so busy with work right now. He’s now a partner in the clinic, so he has all that responsibility. So how are you doing? Your mom said you’ve had some morning sickness.”
“It’s nothing. Mom always worries about me. Actually, it’s Matthew who’s not feeling well tonight. He has a really bad headache.”
I had been listening in to the conversation and turned to him. “I’m sorry. Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m okay,” Matthew said, looking embarrassed by the attention. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Charlotte said. “On the way here he started driving the wrong way.”
I looked at him curiously. “Where were you going?”
Charlotte spoke before he could. “He was headed north on Twenty-third, up towards the old house.”
I looked at him and our eyes met. “Are you feeling okay now?”
“I’m feeling better.”
“Good.” I took a drink of wine and looked away. A few minutes later I said, “Kevin and I have a little gift for you all.”
“Honey, I thought we were going to wait until after dinner,” Kevin said.
“I’m sorry, I thought it might be fun to mix it up a little. Is that okay?”
He smiled. “Of course. Whatever you please, princess.”
Kevin was always that way. He not only called me “princess,” he treated me like one. He had since our first date.
I walked to our parlor and retrieved four small wrapped packages and brought them back to the dining room. I handed one to each of our guests.
“Muchas gracias,” Roxanne said. “Wait, I should say grazie.”
“Prego,” I said.
“Ooh, it feels like a CD,” Charlotte said. “Wonder what it is.”
“Only one way to find out,” Kevin said. “Open it.”
Roxanne opened hers first. “Oh, shut up. Josh Groban!”
I laughed. “I love that you’re so easy to buy for.”
Ray was next. “The Grateful Dead, niiiice. Jerry Garcia lives on.”
“You got him pegged,” Roxanne said.
“I’m not psychic,” I said to Ray. “Rox told me what to get you.”
“My turn,” Charlotte said. She carefully unwrapped her gift. “Oh, Michael Bublé. I love his music. Thanks, Mom and Dad.”
“You’re welcome, honey,” I said.
Roxanne said, “Okay, Matt, it’s just you.”
I had been watching Matthew out of the corner of my eye. He had just been sitting quietly watching everyone else open their gifts.
“Hey, yours is twice as big as ours,” Charlotte said. “Feeling special?”
“I was torn between two CD’s,” I said. “So I got him both.”
“Thanks,” Matthew said. He slowly unwrapped the box and lifted out the first CD. He started laughing, then lifted it for us all to see.
“Holy cow,” Roxanne said, “I haven’t seen that since Ray and I were face-sucking in the back of his Galaxy at the Olympus Drive-in.”
“Saturday Night Fever,” Matthew said. “Fantastic.”
Charlotte started laughing, “Was that a white elephant gift?”
Roxanne piped up, “You’re talking about the Bee Gees, girl. Speak with reverence.”
Matthew looked at me and smiled. “The Bee Gees. Perfect. Thank you.”
“I just didn’t want you to go through life not knowing who they were.”
He looked at me and there was a sparkle in his eyes. “How could I forget?”
“What’s the other one?” Rox asked. “Don’t leave us hanging.”
Matthew lifted it out of the box, though we saw the smile on his face before the CD. “Savage Garden,” he said.
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Charlotte said. “You like them, don’t you,” she said to Matthew.
He nodded. “Love them.”
“There’s a song on there that I especially like,” I said. “ ‘Truly Madly Deeply.’ ”
“Oh, I just love that song,” Charlotte said. “I knew how hip Mom was when she brought home the CD before my friends and I did. I think she got it the day it came out.” She turned to me. “I remember once you were playing that song in your bedroom and I walked in on you and you were crying.”
I looked down, a little embarrassed. “It’s a sweet song.”
Matthew nodded. “It brings back memories.”
&nbs
p; “What kind of memories?” I asked.
He looked into my eyes. “Fond memories.”
The conversation suddenly fell into silence. Kevin exhaled. “Okay, okay, I wasn’t going to do this until after dinner, but since Beth has opened the floodgates, I have a little surprise too.”
I turned and looked at him. “A surprise?”
“Yep, I know you hate surprises, but this time you’ll just have to suffer through it.” He lifted a flat, beautifully wrapped package he had kept on the ground next to his chair. He handed it to me and kissed me. “Merry Christmas, darling.”
“You totally surprised me. I had no idea.”
“Listen up, everyone,” Kevin said, lifting his hands into the air. “I want you to witness this. For once, I have surprised Beth. You have no idea how hard it is surprising this woman with anything.”
“I do,” Roxanne said. “The woman’s psychic. She can practically predict the future.”
“Really?” Matthew asked.
“Last ten Super Bowls and she’s five for five on American Idol.”
“Enough, Rox,” I said.
I pulled the ribbon aside, then stripped back the red foil paper. Inside there was a white and green cardboard envelope. I pulled back its flap, exposing its contents. “What’s this?” I pulled out two airline tickets. “Fiumicino, Roma.”
“Plane tickets to Italy,” Kevin said.
For a moment I was speechless. My mind was spinning in a million directions.
Kevin looked at me intently. “Well, is this a happy surprise?”
I leaned over and kissed him. “Very happy. Thank you, sweetheart. You’re way too extravagant.”
Kevin beamed. “Not for my girl. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
“I’m so happy for you two,” Charlotte said. “Mom hasn’t been to Italy since . . . Mr. Matthew.” She looked at me. “Wow. It’s been a long time since I said that name.”
“Who’s Mr. Matthew?” Kevin asked.
“Old flame,” Roxanne said, waving a hand at him, “Long extinguished, poof, smoke’s gone, vanished, no need to worry about him.”
“You never told me about a Mr. Matthew,” Kevin said to me lightly, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, a girl has to keep some secrets,” I said, avoiding Matthew’s gaze. “It keeps her interesting.”
Kevin leaned over and kissed me. “Just the way I like you.”
Promise Me Page 17
