The driver opened the door and tossed his clipboard inside. “Good luck.”
Good luck?
Lexi climbed the steps. As soon as she raised her hand to ring the doorbell, she heard shouting.
“Catherine, I’m begging you. Take a tranquilizer!”
“Drugs? You want to drug me for Christmas?”
“Yes!”
Lexi rang the doorbell, then reached under the wreath and rapped the knocker for good measure.
There was an immediate cessation of hostilities, and her smiling parents opened the door to greet her.
Lexi was hit by the overwhelming scent of pine from the miles of garland draped everywhere. Lights twinkled. Gold glittered. A fire crackled. Christmas dripped throughout the foyer.
“Alexaaaandra.” Her mother, wearing a white apron with an appliquéd Christmas tree on the bib, drew her inside. “Merry, merry Christmas, darling!” Her eyes were bright, and there was a hectic flush to her cheeks.
Her father wore a red sweater and a forest-green tie with Santa Claus faces on it. All he needed was a pipe.
The house looked like a movie set. Though Lexi had spent several afternoons decorating, her mother had worked untold hours turning the place into a Christmas fantasy.
“Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad. You look very homey. And the house is gorgeous, Mom.”
Her mother beamed.
“Am I the first one here?” Lexi asked as her father took her garment bag and duffel.
“Yes. Leslie’s plane arrives at six-thirty, which means dinner won’t be until after eight.”
Typical of her brother to schedule his flight for maximum inconvenience. “How about everyone else?”
Her mother’s lips drew into a thin, martyrlike line. “Gretchen’s therapist wishes to spend Christmas Eve with her own family, but it seems your sister can’t bear to interact with us without her therapist.”
“You don’t mean she’s not coming!” Lexi mentally calculated how long it would take to drive to Austin and drag her sister back by the hair.
Silently Lawrence threw up his hands and looked skyward.
“They’re having a session together right now,” Lexi’s mother said, acting as if Gretchen’s behavior was nothing out of the ordinary. Which it wasn’t. “Dr. Tracey feels, and I have to agree with her, that Gretchen needs to have the entire Christmas experience, which means going to sleep anticipating the arrival of Santa Claus, and running eagerly down the stairs the next morning to see what new gifts are under the tree.”
“We did that!” Lexi protested.
“Not after you and your brother enlightened her about Santa Claus.”
“She’s twenty-three. She’s had years to get over it.”
“Apparently she still harbors some resentment.”
Lexi wasn’t going to apologize. Besides, Les was the culprit, and only because Gretchen had told him that Santa liked her best.
She reached for her duffel. “Since I’m not Santa Claus, I can put my presents under the tree.”
She unzipped the bag and started to withdraw her gifts, when her mother shook her head. “Oh, no, dear. You’ll have to rewrap them in a coordinating paper. Gold, red, cream and forest-green only. Those are our Christmas colors. I thought it would be best to keep things very traditional.”
“Well, I thought purple and hot pink looked rather zingy.”
Her mother gripped her arm and closed her eyes. “Do not argue with me, Alexandra. Not at this happy time.”
“I wasn’t arguing, I just said—ouch!” She pulled away from her mother’s tightening grip and rubbed her arm.
“The paper is in my workroom upstairs.”
Behind Catherine, Lexi’s father held up a plastic bottle of prescription pills, and shook his head. Obviously her mother was unusually frazzled and it would be best to go along with whatever she wanted.
“Okay. I’ll rewrap them.”
Smile back in place once more, her mother opened her eyes. “Please make sharp creases on the corners.”
If Lexi were her father, she’d grind up one of those little pills and give it to her mother in some eggnog. “Sharp creases. I’ll remember.”
Lexi’s father started to carry her things up the stairs to the bedrooms. “Wait, Lawrence!”
Dutifully, he stopped.
“Alexandra, what did you bring to wear tomorrow?” Without waiting for a response, Catherine unzipped the garment bag, talking all the while. “You don’t have to worry about pajamas. I bought the three of you matching pajamas in a darling red plaid that will look splendid in the photographs.” She stared at Lexi’s dress. “Blue? You brought blue denim to wear? This is Christmas!”
Lexi mentally ran through her wardrobe of dressy clothes. Mostly black, which was what she wore for performances. “I have a burgundy jacket—”
Catherine winced. “It will clash.”
“Then I’ve only got black.”
“Black isn’t one of the colors. Black is not Christmas! And you can’t wear stark white, either. We’ve got a cream and gold tablecloth. If you wear white, you’ll make everything look dirty.”
“Well, I—”
“Go shopping. Buy a new dress.”
“Go shopping on Christmas Eve? No way.”
Catherine turned to her husband. “Lawrence, give her a credit card.”
Lexi’s father reached for his wallet.
Okay, then. “Well, since you asked so nicely...” Lexi took the card, already glad of a chance to escape. Her poor father. She sent him asympathetic look. “Is there anything I can pick up for you as long as I’ll be out?”
“Rum.”
“Lawrence!”
“For the eggnog, Catherine,” he said mildly.
“What happened to the rum we had?”
Lawrence managed to look innocent. “There doesn’t appear to be as much as I thought.”
“Perhaps you’d better check the brandy supply, as well. We want enough to flame the plum pudding.”
“Excellent suggestion.” With a much lighter step, Lexi’s father went off to check the bar.
Lexi made a mental note to buy brandy, as well.
“A nutmeg grater,” her mother said, the idea seeming to come out of nowhere.
“A what?”
“I need a nutmeg grater. We have to have fresh nutmeg to sprinkle on the eggnog, and I had no idea it came in the form of these big...nuts.” Her mother put her hands to her temples. “There are probably other things.... Lawrence! I’m giving Alexandra your cell phone!” Catherine opened the drawer in the hall credenza and withdrew the phone.
Oh, great. “Mom, it’ll be so crowded and noisy, I might not hear it ring.” But one look at her wildeyed mother, and Lexi held out her hand.
Seconds later, a shrieking pierced the silence. At the same time, Lexi noticed another smell warring with the pine scent. Smoke.
Lawrence called from the back of the house. “Catherine! The smoke alarm in the kitchen is going off!”
“My cookies!” Lexi’s mother ran down the hall.
“Bye, Mom!” Lexi called, and quickly let herself out the door.
GRETCHEN AND LES rolled in about the same time later that evening. Lexi couldn’t help wishing they’d roll back out again.
If Christmas Eve dinner was a preview of tomorrow’s main event, then Lexi was going to send Spencer away, always assuming he actually showed up. Being around her was proving hazardous to his health.
Upon her arrival, Gretchen had announced that she would not interact with the family until her therapist got there, then had gone up the stairs to her room.
Lexi didn’t want to interact with Les. He’d arrived unshaven, greasy-headed, in ratty, paint-spattered clothes and wearing more earrings than Lexi owned. After hearing that Lexi was bringing Spencer, Les complained about missing “Arnaud.” But no one cared about “Arnaud” after Les took off his jacket.
He wore a tank undershirt that showed off his tattoos. “I am an artist,�
�� he announced. “And the skin is my palette.”
At that point, Catherine had cited the long day tomorrow, and had retired to bed. Lexi washed the dishes while Les and her father argued.
At six o’clock on Christmas morning, Lexi, attired in a ruffled plaid-flannel granny gown that would have given Francesca hives, woke up her brother and sister, made sure they put on their official Christmas pajamas, threatened them if they didn’t behave, and herded them downstairs, stomping on the steps to alert their parents.
Just like old times.
Santa Claus had very cleverly brought them bicycles. Really good ones, too. Good enough to surprise delighted reactions from Gretchen and Les, which their father dutifully recorded with the video camera.
Because everyone was warming up to each other, because the house looked so pretty, because wonderful smells were coming from the kitchen and probably because their father had put champagne in the orange juice, Lexi could forgive herself for relaxing and thinking the day would go well.
Yesterday afternoon, against all odds, she’d found a soft cream wool dress that had a detachable vest embroidered with holly. After Christmas, she could take off the vest and wear the dress when she played at the Wainright Inn.
Even Emily’s imminent arrival didn’t bother her anymore, since Lexi’s dear, sweet mother had brilliantly suggested that she invite a man, which is how Lexi found Spencer, whom she would be seeing in a few hours.
So all in all, she was in a good mood.
The good mood lasted until just outside the kitchen door.
“Then call her therapist!”
“Catherine, it’s Christmas. We can’t drag the woman away from her family at Christmas.”
“Why not? This whole thing was her idea. A lot of good it’s going to do if Gretchen won’t come out of her room.”
“She’ll charge a fortune!”
“Is money more important to you than your daughter?”
“If you’d seen Dr. Tracey’s last bill, you wouldn’t ask that question.”
Lexi walked into the kitchen. Putting on an apron covered with reindeer heads, she said, “Ignore Gretchen and she’ll come out. After all, she can’t be the center of attention if nobody knows she’s here.”
“Alexandra! Lawrence, call Dr. Tracey.”
Sighing heavily, Lexi’s father picked up the telephone, listened a moment, then quietly replaced it. “Gretchen already has. She was giving the woman directions on how to get here.”
“Good. Now, when Dr. Tracey arrives, we’ll just say she’s Gretchen’s friend.”
“Catherine...”
His wife leveled a quelling look at him. “I don’t wish my sister and her family to know that it is necessary for one of my children to have a therapist hold her hand so she can endure Christmas with us!”
Lawrence surrendered. “Okay. Whatever you want.”
“Hey, Dad, is the eggnog ready yet?” Lexi asked brightly, still determined to salvage her good mood.
“Don’t give her any, Lawrence. She’ll spoil her appetite.”
He gave Lexi a sympathetic look. “I was just getting ready to make it.”
“Lawrence, before you mix the eggnog, make sure there’s enough wood so the fire will last the day. That might be a good project for Leslie.”
“Leslie is riding his new bike.”
“Now there’s a blast from the past,” Lexi said. “Anything to avoid chores.”
“Alexandra! I’m sure Leslie will see to the wood, if he’s asked nicely instead of badgered.” Lexi’s mother raised her eyebrows and Lawrence headed out the kitchen.
As he walked past Lexi, he leaned down and whispered, “There’s more special orange juice in the fridge.”
“Thanks, Dad. How have you stood it the last couple of weeks?”
He smiled down at her. “This dinner is important to your mother. She’s trying to prove something—either to herself, to her sister, to you kids, I don’t know, but the best thing we can do is support her. It’ll all be over soon, and things will be back to normal.”
“When they are back to normal,” Lexi said, drawing a breath, “I’d like to speak with you. It’s about the music building at Littletree.”
Her father raised his eyebrows. “What about it?”
Lexi smiled. “I’ll tell you later.”
“I’ll be holed up in the den,” her father said and quietly slipped out.
A few minutes later the doorbell rang and Catherine yelped. “It’s only ten forty-five! That better not be my sister!”
But of course it was.
Lexi followed her mother to the front door where her aunt and uncle were just being greeted by her father.
“Ben! Carolyn!” Lexi’s mother appeared truly delighted.
What an actress, Lexi thought, looking behind her aunt and uncle for signs of her cousin. Nothing.
“Ben, I’m making eggnog and need your opinion.” Lexi’s father neatly rescued her uncle.
“I thought we’d come early to help,” Aunt Carolyn said as soon as she entered. She swept an assessing gaze around the pine-bedecked foyer and banisters, but made no comment.
“That’s kind of you, but there’s really hardly anything left to do.” Lexi’s mother hung up their coats in the front closet. “I’ve got everything under control.”
Lexi hoped that was true, since she hadn’t been in the kitchen long enough to see the true status of Christmas dinner.
Carolyn appeared delighted. “How wonderful. I must confess, I had my doubts, Catherine, since you’d never had the entire family for Christmas, and big gatherings can be so stressful.”
“I frequently entertain on an even larger scale.” There was an edge to Catherine’s voice.
“Do you? And here I thought entertaining intimidated you.”
Lexi drew in her breath, but was too late to save her mother from falling into the trap.
“Oh, no. I love giving parties.”
“Since I’ve never been invited, I had no idea.”
Catherine patted her sister’s arm. “But most are entertainments for the foundation donors. You understand.”
“So you’re saying I have to purchase an invitation to one of your parties?”
“Where’s Emily?” Lexi broke in, using the bright, chirpy voice that was becoming her standard today.
“She’s just a few minutes behind us,” Aunt Carolyn answered. “I’ll wait by the door so I can open it as soon as she gets here. She mustn’t take chances with her throat by standing in the cold. Speaking of....” Carolyn rubbed her arms. “Could you scoot the furnace up just another notch, or two? These big places can be so drafty.”
“We have a blazing fire in the fireplace,” Lexi’s mother said tightly. “Emily can sit near it if she’s cold.”
“But what about when we eat? Do you have a fireplace in the dining room, too?”
“No, but—”
“There are responsibilities when you entertain great talent, Catherine.”
“I will have you know that some of the world’s top artists and musicians have stayed in this house, and I’ve never had any complaints,” Lexi’s mother said huffily.
“Yes, but have they ever returned?”
“Mom, didn’t you leave something cooking on the stove?” Lexi stepped between them and urged her mother toward the kitchen.
“Oh, I hope it’s not the gravy,” Carolyn said. “I can’t abide lumpy gravy.”
“I wouldn’t have known that from eating yours!”
“I’ll turn up the heat, Aunt Carolyn,” Lexi shouted over her mother.
The thermostat was in the hall leading to the utility room, and Lexi turned it up a couple of notches as they went past.
“The temperature is perfectly fine in here, and she knows it! And once everyone is seated in the dining room, it’ll be stifling.”
Her mother was right. It was a typically mild winter day that would heat up later in the afternoon. At least the weather was clear, so there wa
s no chance of anyone being stranded in a freak snowstorm, Lexi thought.
“Okay, Mom. Let’s get this show on the road. What shall I...” Lexi had been looking around the kitchen as she spoke. There were dirty dishes in the sink, a stack of cookbooks, the chopping board and several trays on the counter... And the only thing cooking on the stove was the plum pudding rattling in its pudding steamer. The source of the wonderful smells appeared to be the oven, where Lexi could hear the goose sizzling.
“Uh, Mom?”
“Yes?” Catherine was at the refrigerator.
“You’ve got the goose in the oven. Shouldn’t we start on the side dishes?”
Her mother fanned her flushed face. “Well, I was going to, but now that Carolyn is here, we’ll have to make the appetizers.”
“I can do that.” They were hours away from eating. Not a good sign. “You concentrate on dinner.”
“I have been concentrating on dinner! I didn’t realize everything would take so long. Just making the stuffing took me an hour. The caterers don’t take an hour to make stuffing.”
“They’ve had more practice,” Lexi soothed. I will not panic. Mom is panicking enough for both of us. “Now what have you planned for appetizers?”
What her mother had planned was a complicated dish featuring a crabmeat stuffing with phyllo dough wrapped around it and the ends twisted so the resulting pastry resembled a firecracker.
Oh, and no canned crabmeat for her mother. No, Lexi had to find a hammer and pound crab shells, then begin the tedious process of extricating enough crabmeat for the recipe. It would take forever.
While her mother was involved with grinding salmon in a blender, Lexi stole to the pantry where she knew her mother kept emergency supplies of crackers and cheese spread. Let Aunt Carolyn gnaw on those for a while.
Lexi was furtively carrying a tray of very ordinary cheese and crackers into the living room when the doorbell sounded. Aunt Carolyn yanked it open. Lexi’s heart thudded heavily at the sight of the male silhouette, but it wasn’t Spencer.
“Oh, good, you’re here. Come in, Marshall.”
“I want to make a quick check to see if everything is ready for Emily,” he said.
Still wearing his coat, he followed Carolyn into the living room. Lexi followed him.
Mr. December Page 12
