One Charmed Christmas

by Sheila Roberts

They were laughing uproariously as “Do You Hear What I Hear” played over shots of various people being subjected to torture with the whoopee cushion Drew had given their dad two years earlier.

  Until one shot showed Mark sitting on it, looking disgusted. Sierra instantly teared up and Drew’s face turned Christmas-stocking red. “Shit,” he muttered.

  “Never mind that loser,” Dad said gruffly, then decided maybe they should watch the rest of the DVD another time.

  “I’m sorry, sis,” Drew said as their mom hurried to fetch more cookies. “I thought I got all of his out of there.”

  “It’s okay,” Sierra said bravely.

  “If I wasn’t a cop I’d beat the shit out of him. I wish I could arrest him for being a jerk.”

  “How about at least staking out his house, then following him and giving him a speeding ticket?” Sophie suggested.

  “I’d rather see him in jail,” said Sierra. “Handcuff him and make him eat Grandma Sanders’s fruitcake till he barfs.”

  “Just looking at Grandma Sanders’s fruitcake is enough to make me barf,” said Drew.

  “Tie him up with strings of Christmas lights,” put in Sophie. “Make Santa shove him down a chimney.”

  “Yeah, one where they’ve built a fire in the fireplace,” Sierra said, beginning to smile.

  “Best revenge, take a picture of yourself in these hot pj’s so he can see what he’s missing,” Drew teased.

  Sophie gave a snort, but her sister’s smile went away.

  Drew sobered. “He is missing a lot. He’s a fool, sis.”

  Sierra bit her lip and nodded.

  Their mother came into the room with a plate of cookies in time to hear. “Living well is the best revenge,” she reminded Sierra. “You work on making your life great in this new year and everything will work out.”

  Sierra sighed and nodded.

  Later, when the two sisters were back in the room they’d shared growing up, snuggled under the covers in their twin beds, Sierra said, “I am thinking of doing something to make my life great once I get through all this.”

  “Another cruise?” Sophie guessed.

  “No. Adopting a child.”

  “Really?” It was the last thing Sophie had expected her sister to say, although why she wasn’t sure.

  “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

  “No, of course not. You’ll be a great mother. And Mom’s ready for grandkids. I’m ready to be an aunt, too.”

  “I’m not going to rush into it instantly, but I do want to check out options. At the rate I’ll be going you’ll probably be married and pregnant before I ever have a child.”

  “Moi? Married. I can’t imagine who you might be talking about,” Sophie joked.

  “Oh, no, hardly at all. Marrying into your own lifetime supply of chocolate. Lucky you. That’s better than marrying a doctor. Although what you really need is a shrink.”

  Sophie decided not to tell her sister what Trevor’s college major had been. She’d sure never hear the end of that.

  * * *

  Catherine’s Christmas Eve had been a quiet one. She spent the morning shopping for ingredients for a Black Forest cherry cake, then managed to use up a chunk of the afternoon baking it. That night it was just her and Cookie and a frozen turkey dinner, watching old Christmas movies on TV.

  By the time she let Cookie outside for her bedtime bathroom break she discovered that the snow the weatherman predicted had arrived. Not so much that she’d be afraid to drive the next day, but it was enough to qualify for a white Christmas. The pretty sight made Catherine smile.

  Cookie wasn’t into white Christmases. She did her duty and then was back immediately, ready to be inside and warm.

  “I guess this means you don’t want to go out and play in the snow with me,” Catherine said, and Cookie wagged her tail and barked.

  “No more treats,” Catherine said sternly. “You already had your dog biscuit and half my turkey. That’s enough. For you, anyway,” she added, then helped herself to a brownie before going upstairs to bed. Calories didn’t count at Christmas.

  William and his family checked in on Christmas Day. They all looked tan and happy and relaxed. Gabrielle was delighted with Catherine’s gift and quick to invite her out to lunch after they returned home. The boys were buzzing on sugar highs and bouncing around the hotel room like little gremlins. Will asked how Catherine and Cookie were doing.

  “We’re great.”

  “Still want to give her back?” he teased.

  “Maybe not, but you’re going to have to promise to dog-sit next Christmas when I go away for the holidays.”

  His wife suddenly had to go calm the boys down and Will looked embarrassed. “Let’s not make a habit of that, okay?”

  That was fine with her.

  Lila didn’t FaceTime but she did text. We’re off to the slopes. Kids loved their prezzies. Me, too. Love U.

  Short, sweet and not all that satisfying. But at least she’d checked in.

  “Okay, Cookie, we’ve heard from everyone,” Catherine said to the dog.

  That was it for family time, and a meager helping of time it had been. But no pity parties. Catherine had someplace to go. She wouldn’t be alone.

  She dressed in slacks and a red sweater, then went bold and settled a Santa hat on her head. She loaded up her presents for Denise and her daughter and the granddaughters, along with the Black Forest cherry cake, left Cookie to enjoy the chew toy Santa had brought her and drove the few blocks to her best friend’s house.

  The mixed sounds of squeals and Christmas songs playing on the TV were almost loud enough to drown out the doorbell, but not quite. A moment later the door flew open and there stood Denise’s granddaughters, wearing matching red velveteen dresses, ruffled socks on their feet, their shoes already off. Ten and eight, they were bouncing up and down with excitement. Eleanor, the oldest, held a new iPad and Pearl Ann clutched an American Girl doll.

  “Merry Christmas, Aunt Catherine!” they chorused.

  “Look what I got,” Eleanor said, holding out the iPad for Catherine to see.

  “I got this,” said her sister, determined not to be left out of show-and-tell.

  Denise rounded the corner into the front hall. “Good grief, you little heathens. Somebody offer to help her with her things.”

  “Sorry,” Eleanor said. “Can I help you?”

  “You can take this bag of presents,” Catherine said to her.

  “Ooh, presents,” Pearl Ann squealed, and reached for the bag.

  “I’m helping her,” Eleanor said, and grabbed it.

  “I want to help,” protested Pearl Ann.

  “Would you like to take the cake out to the kitchen?” Catherine asked.

  Pearl Ann nodded soberly and held out her hands, and Catherine gave her the cake carrier.

  “Don’t drop it,” Denise cautioned.

  Pearl Ann nodded, and started walking slowly toward the kitchen, her sister shadowing her, the guardian angel of cakes.

  Denise smiled fondly, watching them. “Those girls,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Are adorable, of course,” Catherine finished.

  “Yes, they are. Here, give me your coat. Did you hear from your kids?”

  “Oh, yes, everyone checked in.”

  “They’d better do more than check in next year or they’re going to hear from me,” Denise said. “Go on in. Carrie brought her fabulous Christmas tree appetizer and there’s actually a few bites left. If you hurry you might get one.”

  In addition to the appetizer, Denise’s daughter, who had been a single mom for the last two years, had brought along a new boyfriend. He seemed like a nice man and Carrie’s smile was lit up like, well, Christmas. Catherine thought of Sierra, whose marriage was ending. That was life for you. Somewhere a relat
ionship ended while somewhere else a new one began. Maybe, down the road, Sierra, too, would find someone who would make her smile look like Christmas.

  The day included a huge meal with a standing rib roast taking center stage, a hunt for miniature candy canes and other tiny Christmas treasures Denise had hidden around the house, as well as a game of Trivial Pursuit and some singing of carols.

  They were about to cut the cake when Charlie dropped by with a gift for her. Her daughter looked at him suspiciously and then at her mother when Charlie informed Denise he had reservations at the Space Needle for New Year’s Eve.

  “How about joining us, Catherine?” he suggested.

  “I’m sure you’d like that,” she scoffed.

  “Of course I would,” he said. “Two beautiful women, one for each arm.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for one empty arm,” Catherine told him. Something was definitely blooming between those two and she had no intention of stunting the growth of what could turn out to be a very special relationship.

  Thoughts of Rudy tried to intrude, but she pushed them firmly away. She had plenty of good people in her life. She was fine just as she was.

  Altogether not a bad day, she thought later as she drove home. Not the Christmas she’d have planned but a nice one, anyway. It was also nice not to come home to an empty house. Cookie was there to greet her. And she’d only chewed up one sofa pillow. Yes, not a bad day at all.

  Catherine spent the rest of the night on her couch, reading, Cookie snuggled by her side. A quiet finish to the day, much as it would have been if Bill was still alive. She could live with that.

  She could live with a quiet New Year’s Eve, too. She and Bill hadn’t done much when he was alive, anyway. They’d usually watch a couple of movies—Die Hard and Groundhog Day, their respective favorites. Then it would be a glass of champagne, a kiss good-night and off to bed. Knowing there would be no kiss good-night made her sad, but at least she had company now. And she could still watch movies and drink champagne.

  “I think you should go out with Charlie and me,” Denise said as they sat in the Westlake Mall Starbucks the next day. “You don’t want to be alone on New Year’s Eve.”

  “I won’t be alone. I’ll have Cookie.”

  “Dogs don’t count,” Denise said.

  “Sure they do,” Catherine said, then changed the subject quickly.

  Denise hadn’t been impressed with William’s present, labeling it a sop to his conscience. Maybe it had been or maybe it had been a thoughtful present. Either way, Catherine didn’t want to discuss it.

  They shopped a few after-Christmas sales, then went back home, Denise to get ready to entertain Charlie for dinner and Catherine to...entertain Cookie.

  William called the next day on his lunch break to see how Cookie was settling in. “You ready to give her back?” he asked.

  “Not quite.”

  “I knew you’d like her.”

  “Just remember, you’re still going to have to dog-sit once in a while,” Catherine warned.

  “We can handle that. The boys’ll love it,” he said. Then he whiplashed them into new conversational territory. “Have you told Lila about the chemo?”

  She didn’t even want to think about the chemo, let alone talk about it. “No, but I will.”

  “Sometime before it starts would be good,” he said irritably. “I don’t want to be the only one dealing with this.”

  Funny, she’d thought she was the one dealing with it. “I’ll be fine,” she said as much to herself as him.

  “I know you will,” he said. “But don’t shut us out. We want to help.”

  “I know.” It was good to hear him say it.

  “Tell her today, Mom,” he commanded.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to you later,” she said. Then she hung up before her son could find anything more to lecture her on.

  “You know, Cookie,” she told the dog, “this is a fine example of how you should be careful what you wish for. Here I was feeling neglected and now all of a sudden my son is turning into a helicopter child.” Although, really, it was rather nice to have William hovering. Once in a while, a woman needed her children in her airspace, needed to know they really did care.

  Lila called that evening. “Why didn’t you tell me the doctor didn’t get everything when they did the hysterectomy?” she demanded. “What were you thinking?” Catherine tried to speak but her daughter didn’t give her the chance. “I had to find out from William. William! I’m your daughter. You’re supposed to tell me these things. I mean, when were you going to tell me? Ever?”

  “Of course I was going to tell you at some point. You’ve been a little preoccupied.”

  “It has been the holidays, you know,” Lila said defensively.

  “Yes, I do,” Catherine said. And you’ve been way too busy with your own life to care about what was happening in mine. Oh, how those words wanted to come out, but Catherine resisted the temptation to send another child on a guilt trip. “So there was no sense bothering you with this.”

  “Bothering? Mom, are you kidding? When does it start? I’ve got to get the dates on my calendar.”

  “Why on earth do you need to put them on your calendar?”

  “I’m taking you, of course. How else are you going to get there? Where are you having it done?”

  “Virginia Mason, downtown. But you don’t have to take me.”

  “I want to take you. Anyway, don’t you have to stay hooked up to that... IV drip or whatever? You don’t want to sit there all by yourself, do you?”

  Catherine had been spending a lot of time by herself in the last year. What were a couple more hours, give or take?

  “They do let people come in the room with you, right?”

  “They do.”

  “Okay, then. We can play cards or something. Mother-daughter time.”

  Mother-daughter time. Catherine smiled. “I’d like that.” See, Bill, our children aren’t so very selfish, after all.

  “Good. That’s settled, then. Text me the dates. By the way, I hear William gave you a dog. What was he thinking?”

  “That I’d enjoy the company.”

  “I guess,” Lila said dubiously. Then, to her daughter, who Catherine could hear in the background. “I know. I’m coming! Okay, Mom, I’ve got to run. I promised Carissa we’d go shopping for jammies. She’s got a slumber party on New Year’s Eve. I’ll talk to you later.”

  New Year’s Eve. Catherine hadn’t had the opportunity to ask what her daughter was doing, but she was sure Lila would have something planned with her husband. William and Gabrielle would be doing something, too.

  Which was as it should be. Everyone should celebrate the beginning of a new year with someone they loved.

  The thought of spending the night alone wrapped her in melancholy. “But I’m not going to say anything to Lila or William,” she said to Cookie. “I already said enough to upset them.”

  She could handle seeing in the new year alone. She could handle a lot of things alone.

  The melancholy began to slide off. “We don’t mind being on our own, do we, Cookie?”

  Cookie thumped her stumpy tail and lifted a front paw, giving Catherine a little doggy wave.

  “I knew you’d agree. You know, I’d never really been alone before Bill died. I lived at home when I was going to college and then I got married. Sometimes I feel a little like a sheep, looking for the rest of the flock. I don’t know if alone suits me.”

  Still, one had to make the best of things. She’d find something to do New Year’s Eve.

  Take down the tree, read a book. Maybe start a new knitting project. And...what else? She’d think of something.

  19

  It was early afternoon on New Year’s Eve when Catherine got a text. She had to read it twice to make sure
she wasn’t hallucinating.

  This is Rudy in case you don’t recognize the number. I’m in town and wondering if you have plans for New Year’s Eve.

  Rudy? Plans? She blinked. She had to be hallucinating. She read the text again. Oh, my.

  She texted back...several times, thumbing in a reply and then deleting it, her heart thumping all the while. She finally settled for something innocuous. It would be lovely to see you.

  What a bland response in light of the crazy excitement she was feeling. It was as if she’d been thrown back in time, and was once more on the dance floor of that cruise ship, in his arms, falling in love for the second time in her life.

  The first had been Bill, and she remembered those butterflies she’d felt when they’d stood on her front porch after their second date and she’d known he was going to kiss her. Time changed a woman on the outside, but never on the inside. The butterflies always returned. And now, here they were.

  What did that text mean? Surely it could only mean one thing, that he wanted to keep what they started going. But she was afraid to hope. How, she was dying to know.

  Okay. I’ll make reservations.

  They set a time, she gave him her address. It was a done deal.

  New Year’s Eve with Rudy. What was she going to wear? She hurried to her bedroom closet and stood a long time looking at the clothes hanging there. She didn’t have anything fancy, at least nothing that fit anymore. She hadn’t needed anything fancy for the quiet New Year’s Eves she’d spent with her husband. You hardly had to get dressed up to watch TV.

  “I need to go shopping,” she told Cookie.

  An hour later she was at Ross Dress for Less, sifting through the dresses on the rack. She finally found a simple black dress with long, lacy sleeves that didn’t make her look too much like the proverbial sack of potatoes. She still had some black heels that would do and a rhinestone necklace and matching earrings. All she needed was pantyhose.

  Ugh. Pantyhose were one of fashion’s instruments of torture. She read the measurements on the back of the packages with knit brows. How much did she weigh now? She hadn’t gotten on her scale since the cruise. Actually, she hadn’t gotten on her scale in the last year, and she’d been afraid to look every time she went to the oncologist and the nurse weighed her. She finally bought two different packages, deciding it would be best to have options.