by Linda Apple
“Mmm-hmm.” I pulled his face down for another. I could get real used to this.
We strolled hand-in-hand down Washington Avenue admiring the Christmas trees shining from living room picture windows in homes along the street. A peaceful quiet settled in with the drifts. The only sound was a crystalline ping as if tiny fairies toasted the day with minuscule goblets. Occasionally, vivid red cardinals sang out, cheer, cheer, cheer, from evergreen boughs blanketed in white. When we walked though the gate I marveled at the scene before me. The park looked enchanted. The swings, slides and the grounds were sparkling and pristine. So much so, I hated marring the surface. We brushed off the seats and sat on the rubber slings. Rocking back and forth, I enjoyed the moment.
“Avalee?” Ty turned his swing around toward me. “Remember the morning I carried you across the swinging bridge over Moon Creek?”
“Remember? I still have nightmares.” I didn’t mention the other dreams of desire related to that particular day while suspended thirty feet in the air.
“Don’t I know it? You nearly strangled me holding on so hard.” Snow laced his beanie and caught on his ridiculously long lashes. I swear, Mother Nature did prefer her boys. No woman I knew had lashes like that unless they were fake. “But when I realized you actually were afraid of heights, I was sorry for putting you in that position. That’s when I knew I wanted to protect you and care for you the rest of my life.” He leaned forward and kissed my nose. “I already knew that I loved you.”
“It was then I realized I had fallen in love with you, Tyler Jackson.”
He reached into his pocket. “We aren’t on the swinging bridge, so these swings will have to symbolize that day.” Ty held up a small red satin box and opened it. Nestled in black velvet was a ring sparkling with diamonds.
“Oh, babe.” I looked closer. It looked like a blooming rose. Petals set with diamonds surrounded a large solitaire. The delicate platinum band had diamond encrusted leaves on either side. The pave-set wedding band was simple and elegant. “I love it.”
“Merry Christmas.” He took the engagement ring and slipped it on my finger. “When I saw this rose, I couldn’t pass it up.”
I opened my mouth, but he put his finger to my lips.
“It is none of your concern about what it cost or how I paid for it.”
“How did you know the size?”
“Miss Cladie did some sleuthing. She found a ring you wear and traced the band.”
“It’s gorgeous.” I tore my gaze off the ring long enough to kiss him.
“Just do me a favor.” He smiled at me with his impish grin that pushed his dimples deep.
“What’s that?”
“Never take it off.” He held up his hand like a boy scout. “And I promise I will never give you cause to throw it at me.”
I studied his face. “No, I don’t think you ever will.”
He took my hand and kissed it. “Come on. Let’s go show Momma Cladie and warm up with that cocoa.”
“Let’s.” As we walked home, I noticed the snow had covered the tracks we made on our way to the playground. It felt like a good omen to me. Past mistakes erased, a fresh beginning.
****
By seven-thirty, the snow tapered off. Good thing everyone lived within walking distance because when it snows in the south, people go crazy. They drive with their foot on the brakes, slamming it to the floor as they creep along. Before the first flake hits the ground, the grocery shelves are empty. My friends in New York always made fun of me. I soon learned the drill. Snow? No big deal. Just order takeout or hail a taxi.
Mom had everything set up. In the foyer by the family room entrance, she had two bowls of eggnog on the sideboard. One marked ‘naughty’, meaning it had bourbon in it. The other said ‘nice’, no alcohol, only nutmeg. Just inside the family room were long tables against the wall that adjoined the foyer wall. There she set up a bar with different liquors and mixers, wines and an assortment of beers. On the other tables, she had heavy, and I mean heavy, appetizers. I don’t know how after meat canapés, five different varieties of cheeses, breads, jams, and fruit that anyone could eat a meal. But we always managed. Some may think we southerners do a lot of eating and drinking. Well, we do. Food, wine, laughter—a lot of laughter—and even more love, what could be better?
Lexi arrived first. Her voice, bigger than her five-foot-two frame, sang out, “Merry Christmas everyone.”
Momma pointed to the punch bowls. “Naughty or nice?”
“You have to ask?” Lexi twisted her mouth in a smile. “Why, naughty of course.” She planted a kiss on Mom’s cheek and handed her a bottle of wine. “Now don’t you go and serve this to everyone, you hear? This is a special bottle of Muscadine, the kind you like.”
“Thank you, sugar. I’ll hide it right now.” Just as Momma disappeared to put up her special wine, a soft rap sounded on the door.
I called out, “I’ll get it.”
Jema and Levi stood on the porch stamping the snow off their shoes. He looked up and smiled. “Happy Christmas.” Then he offered his arm to someone behind him. “We dropped by to help Mrs. Armstrong across the street.”
Mom came bustling back into the room. “Hey Jema. Thank you, Levi. I was going to send Felix to get her.” She reached for Pearly. “Get yourself inside before you catch your death.”
Jema followed Pearly to help steady her and Levi closed the door behind him. Mom pointed to the eggnog. “Choose your poison.”
Jema pointed to the Naughty bowl. “Levi, we want this one.” He lifted an eyebrow, and Jema smiled. “You will understand when you taste it.”
Momma held out a glass to Pearly. “Here you go Pearl. Nice as usual.”
Pearly’s faded blue eyes fixed on Mom. “I haven’t played in snow since Moses was a baby in the bulrushes. Makes a body feel young and spry again.” She nodded at the glass. “I think I’ll take naughty tonight.”
Mom raised her eyebrows. “Lord a’mercy Pearly Armstrong. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“And you’re likely never to see it again. So get a good look.” She tapped Momma’s leg with her cane as she hobbled to the hors d’oeuvre table. The poor old soul had outlived all her relatives. She told me a while back she had no plans to die. I was beginning to believe her.
Jema strolled over to where Mom and I stood. She held out a blue box with gold ribbon. “Merry Christmas, Cladie Mae.”
“Why, thank you, honey.” Momma took it and hugged her.
Jema patted her hands together in anxious anticipation. “Open it.”
“All right.” Mom slid off the gold ribbon and opened the lid. She gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Good gracious.”
Jema broke into a huge smile. “It is a Faberge-inspired egg ornament.”
“Faberge?” Momma took the delicate ornament from the box and held it by its gold satin ribbon. Emeralds were set on the golden egg in a holly bush design, with rubies as the berries. The ornament was beyond breathtaking.
“Yes, and those are real stones.” Jema patted her hands together again. “Isn’t it lovely?”
“Heaven help me child. This is too—”
Jema held up her hand. “Don’t even use the ‘E’ word. You deserve so much more than this. Hang it on the tree and remember your worth is far above jewels.”
Levi wrapped his arm around Mom. “You saw something in me that only my Jema saw. In all my experiences and dealings with people throughout my life, your generosity is unmatched. He looked lovingly at Jema. “I can never repay you for the happiness you helped me find.”
“Well,” said Lexi, “I guess y’all are going to give me a bag of coal.” Lexi had been so enamored with Nathan when he was here investigating, she inadvertently helped him spread suspicion about Levi. Something she now guiltily regretted.
Jema strolled to Lex and hugged her. “You only acted in love trying to protect me and I love you for it.”
The doorbell rang and Felix let himself in. Before
Mom could ask he said, “Naughty.”
Pearly lifted her glass. “I guess we are a naughty bunch this year. Got any more of this stuff?”
At suppertime, we sat in our places at the table. Felix rubbed his hands together. “Miss Cladie, you shore put the big pot in the little ’un.”
I had to admit, she had outdone herself this Christmas. We feasted on prime rib beef roast with horseradish cream, garlic mashed potatoes, sautéed green beans and almonds, candied yams and pecans, and her luscious twenty-four-hour salad made with pineapple bits, white cherries, mandarin oranges, and mini-marshmallows all folded into custard, with a whipped cream base. It should have been a dessert, but we ate it as if it were a vegetable salad and didn’t feel guilty at all.
Speaking of desserts, there were a plethora of choices that gave plenty of reasons for feeling guilty. Such as her specialty, a four-layer coconut cream cake. She also made several pecan pies and a rum raisin bread pudding with chocolate bourbon sauce. Have mercy on us, Jesus.
After supper, we all lumbered into the family room and found a place around the fire to veg and sip Alka-Seltzer. Full stomachs and the warmth from the hypnotic flames had me nodding off until Lexi piped up.
“I have news.” She grinned at Levi and Jema. “Guess who is coming to your wedding?”
Ty opened his mouth to say Nathan, but I squeezed his hand. I was pledged to silence and I had let it slip when he told me about Skye’s fascination with him.
Jema tilted her head. “Who?”
Never one to miss a dramatic pause, Lexi looked each of us in the eye before announcing, “Nathan!”
She was answered with mute bewilderment. Finally, Levi cleared his throat. “He is welcome to come of course, but why would he want to come?”
Lex waved her hand as if she were shooing a fly. “Don’t you worry. He has an idea to make special amends for his little error.” She shrugged and grinned. “Besides, it all turned out, right?”
“Yes.” Levi took Jema’s hand and kissed it. “Yes, it did.”
I glanced at Ty. “When are you telling Skye? She will be over the moon about this.”
He shook his head. “You have no idea.” Grinning at Lexi he said, “Get ready for some competition with my daughter for Nathan’s attention.”
Lexi arched her brows. “Don’t worry, Tyler Jackson. I have my ways.”
Momma crossed her arms. “Humph. I don’t know that I like the sound of that, missy.”
A rosy blush burned Lex’s cheeks. “Now, Miss Cladie, you know me better than that.”
Momma murmured under her breath. “That’s the problem.”
Ty burst out laughing, and Lexi threw a pillow at him. “Oh, shut up.”
Poor Lex. We all caught Ty’s hysterics and held our poor strained stomachs as we howled at her expense. Even she had to join in. Like I said earlier, for southerners hilarity is the perfect digestif to end a day of feasting and friends.
****
When everyone had gone home, Momma went to her room to watch her favorite Christmas movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. Ty and I stretched out on the family room floor in a nest of pillows. I rolled on my side and propped up on my arm. “This has been an amazing Christmas. I don’t think there will ever be one to match it.”
Ty faced me. “It certainly has been the best one of my life.”
This was the perfect time to give him my gift. I held up my finger. “Just a sec.” He watched me under furrowed eyebrows while I pulled an envelope from the tree’s branches. “Merry Christmas.”
“Thank you.” He took the envelope and slipped his thumb under the flap. Inside were a handful of business cards. He read each one and peered up at me clearly confused. “Who are these people?”
“These are the movers and shakers for the top magazines in the nation. Scott, Nathan, and I have connections with them.” I laid my hand on his. “Ty, I believe in your dream. You tell stories in your photos as well as any novelist. I want to see you succeed. I am going to email them about you. So get your portfolio ready.”
He shuffled through the pile of cards. “Wow. Conde Nast? National Geographic? The New Yorker?” A little boy gleam excited his eyes. “I don’t know what to say. No one has ever shared my vision.”
“Well, I do.” Scooching close to his side, I touched the side of his face. “I love you.”
The cards fell to the floor as he laid me back. I closed my eyes and sank into the pillows aware only of the heat from his lips and his heart beating against mine. Yes, this was a perfect end to a perfect day.
When the Grandfather clock chimed one, Ty whispered against my neck, “It’s getting late. I’d better go.”
“Must you?” Evenings like these made me long for the time when we would be together in our own home.
“Skye and Glen are coming tomorrow if the roads are clear. I need to get up early and make a place for them at the apartment.”
“They won’t stay at your parents?”
“No and I can’t blame them. A little Emma Jackson goes a long way.”
“Well, if she starts turning them against me, use our little ace in the hole.”
“What’s that?”
“You mean, who’s that? Nathan.”
Ty stood and pulled me into his arms. “We don’t need no stinkin Nathan Wolfe.”
“Maybe not.” I stretched toward his lips. “But it’s nice to have an little advantage,, right?”
Lost in our kiss, Ty mumbled, “Right.”
Chapter Five
When you want to pout, play instead.
~Tyler Jackson
Ty knew he should clean his place and make up beds for the kids, but he couldn’t keep from looking at the business cards Avalee had given him. He read and re-read each one, then ran his fingers over the embossed names. Was it possible the fruition of his dreams were literally at his fingertips? Finally, someone who believed in him—Tyler Jackson. He may be nothing more than a tiny speck on the planet, but hey, tiny specks accomplish big things all the time, right?
The cell phone interrupted his thoughts. The screen read, Her Highness. “Morning, Mother.”
“Good morning, Tyler. Skye and Glen have just arrived. Will you be joining us for brunch or do you have other plans?”
He checked his watch. Eight-thirty. Sheesh. He’d never known his children to be out of bed before ten. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Will you be bringing her with you?”
“No. I won’t do that to her again. She deserves better.”
“Don’t we all.” She paused for a melodramatic interlude in order for that last stab to sink in. “Very well then. I’ll be expecting you in an hour.”
Ty clicked off his phone and shook his head. No telling what garbage his mother was spewing to his kids. He didn’t worry about Glen. But Skye? Thank God for Nathan Wolfe.
****
While waiting for Doris to answer his parent’s door, Ty thought about how weird this formality felt. When he was a child, he walked through the front doors anytime he wanted. After all, it was his home. But after moving out, his mother thought it necessary and proper for him to be treated as any other guest. He couldn’t imagine Miss Cladie ever requiring Avalee to ring or knock after she moved out.
Doris opened the door and beamed up at him. He couldn’t help it; he adored this woman. If he had to describe her in two words, it would be ‘friendly mischief’. She could hear a mouse cross the road while she vacuumed the sitting room on the third floor. Nothing said or done in the Jackson home escaped her notice.
“Good morning, Mr. Jackson.”
He put his hand up. “I wish you wouldn’t do that ‘Mr. Jackson’ bit.”
Her brown eyes sparkled and she muttered from the side of her mouth. “I’ve got to keep your momma happy. Christmas bonus time you know.”
“But you’re Jewish.”
“Your mother insists.” Doris shrugged her shoulders. “Who am I to argue?”
She stepped out of the way
and examined his feet for snow. After she closed the door, she nudged his side with her elbow. He stopped and started to ask what she wanted, but she motioned for him to act like they weren’t talking. Instead, she took a rag from her apron pocket and pretended to polish a vase on the hall table. While she worked, she said in a low voice, “I’m not one to stick my nose in someone else’s business, but if I were you, I’d prepare myself for trouble.”
He slipped off his coat and hung it in the hall closet. “Why? What has Mother done now?”
Doris busied herself re-arranging the flowers in the vase. “She’s been showing your children photos of your brother since he was a baby and filling their heads with her version of why he died.”
Oh great. That was just great. “Thanks for the warning, Doris.”
“You didn’t hear anything from me. I mind my own business.”
“Right. Got it.”
Just as Doris had warned, pictures lay scattered on the coffee table in the library. His daughter and his mother sat bent over them. Skye looked up. “Hi, Dad.”
He couldn’t read her expression. “Hey. Whatcha got going there?”
His mother straightened. “I’m showing her pictures of your brother. I’m sure she doesn’t hear about him from you.”
Ty threw his hands in the air. “For crying out loud, Mother. He was ten when I was born. He left for college when I was eight. I was in sixth grade when he died. And when he was home, he didn’t have time for a little brother. Hell, I hardly knew him. What do you want me to do? Make things up about him like you do?”
His father entered the room and laid a hand on Ty’s shoulder. “Tyler, calm down. Let’s try and have a pleasant meal this time.”
If it were not for the kids, he would have left and never returned. He’d had enough. “Where’s Glen?”
“Oh, he got tired of looking at photos.” Skye flipped her hand toward the window. “He went outside to,” she made air quotes, “play in the snow.”
“Good idea. Think I’ll join him.” Perfect for cooling off.
His mother tore her gaze from the photo album. “Don’t be out too long. Brunch will be served soon.”
