After two and a half hours of unwrapping gifts, the Patterson family took a breakfast break. This year’s gathering included Catherine’s brothers John and Robert as well as her sister Claire and an assortment of cousins a few years older and younger than Eloise. He ran out of things to talk about last night, but at least the kids included Eloise in their chatter.
As they sat to a breakfast buffet of casserole, fruit salad, and bread, the tree remained surrounded by several feet of presents. He checked his watch. In his estimation, they had another three hours of unwrapping to do. Eloise’s restlessness grew. Sue might not have noticed, but he did. Unlike at home, he couldn’t redirect her energy elsewhere. He hoped food would help, but she’d already complained that she was bored and wanted to play with her new toys.
His thoughts turned to Penelope. She would turn this process into some sort of a game for Eloise. He wondered if she’d opened the present he tucked under her tree yet. Not that it would change anything. He still wasn’t sure why he wanted her to have it so badly. As he ate a slice of cranberry nut bread heaping with indulgent real butter, he experienced an epiphany. At the museum, Eloise hadn’t once complained, not during those long minutes when Penelope flirted with that guy nor in the long bathroom line. Instead she kept busy with her notepad.
He pulled his daughter aside before they returned to the tree. “Eloise, do you have any paper in your backpack?”
“I have the book and pencils Miss Penny gave me.”
Perfect. “Then could you please do me a favor? Could you draw a picture of the Christmas tree? You could work on it between your turns to unwrap.”
She bounced with excitement. “I’ll do it! Maybe I can show it to Miss Penny later. She likes my pictures.”
He ruffled her hair. “So do I, sweetheart. So do I.”
Remarkably, she stayed content and busy through the next three hours, first drawing the tree, then the stockings by the fireplace, and a finally fairy Christmas tree. As the pile of presents grew lower, she worried out loud that she hadn’t opened her present from Miss Penny yet. Carson went out to the car to retrieve it, lying that it must have accidently slipped under a seat. The slim package Penelope gave him yesterday caught his eye.
Intrigued, he slipped his finger under the seam, but realized no one could see him. In one quick movement he unwrapped it, enjoying the sound of tearing paper. It was a CD in a slim case. The front cover featured a sloppy drawing of a skateboard and the words Your Misspent Youth in scrolling letters. He opened the case and scanned the playlist. The first fifteen tracks made him laugh. It was as if she’d waved her fairy wand and conjured up his high school tape collection. He hadn’t heard any of the last five songs, but he recognized a few names from his osteopathic patients who wore earbuds as he walked into the patient rooms. He set the CD on the passenger seat where she sat yesterday, wondering how she could bring so much joy in his life yet make him so miserable at the same time.
After the main meal of the day, served precisely at two, the family gathered for cookies, drinks, and carols around the tree. Pappy asked each of his grandkids in turn if Santa had brought them everything on their list. For the most part, they had. The Pattersons liked to spoil their grandchildren. All went well until he got to Eloise. She shook her head sadly, staring at the floor.
“No, Pappy. Santa did not. He just brought me toys. He forgot to bring Miss Penny to be my mommy.”
Sue spit eggnog all over the floor. The other adults gasped in disbelief.
Carson recovered the quickest. He’d half expected this to come up at some point. “Eloise, sweetie, Santa can’t wrap people.”
“But in one of my books he wraps up an elf. In other books he wraps up dogs and cats, so why can’t he wrap a mommy for me?”
He pulled Eloise onto his lap as tears began to form in her eyes. “I know you like Miss Penny a lot and I know she cares for you, too, but grownups have complicated relationships and rules. You have a wonderful mommy who loves you very much, even if she isn’t alive anymore.”
Eloise kicked her foot and Carson winced as her shoe made contact with his shin. “But I don’t want a dead mommy. I want a real mommy like the other kids at school. Why can’t I have Miss Penny?”
Carson wondered the same thing. He took his time answering, holding Eloise and letting her sob into his shirt. Catherine’s family shifted uncomfortably, the kids coming up with excuses to get another cookie or go to the bathroom. Sue’s gaze bore into him, projecting her simmering resentment that her daughter could be replaced, worst of all by someone she disliked. The burden of single parenting and juggling everyone else’s needs manifested itself as an acute pain in his heart. He was tired but his daughter needed him. It wasn’t fair that he was all she had.
He stroked her hair, knocking out one of her barrettes in the process. He might not have noticed, except Catherine’s sister Claire swept in to pick it up. Disorder of any sort did not belong in this house. The picture perfect Christmas decorations, the schedule of family activities that came out in January each year, the expectation that all would gleefully participate even in such nonsense as carol practice so everyone’s voices would harmoniously blend on this the most special of days.
His nostrils flared as his cynicism rose. He lifted his head, like a bull ready to charge, except instead of red, he saw red and green. He resisted the urge to scream at Catherine’s parents, calling out their role in her death. After all, the “mommy special” nip and tuck had been their Christmas present to her. This point never came up after her death. He and Catherine argued over the gift, but mostly the argument brought out the bigger problems they had, like his desire for more children and her desire to stay attractive for the betterment of her career, especially if she went into politics. Sure, they had make-up sex, but their argument ended without resolution, at least until her fatal car crash. The problem seemed so clear now. In the Patterson household, perfection ruled, but at a cost.
He envied Eloise and her emotional outburst. She cried. He offered comfort. But who was there for him? Who would ease his troubled mind, accepting him neurosis and all? He knew.
Chapter 9
Carson put on his hapless father face and shrugged as he caught Sue’s eye. “I think we’ll leave now. As beautiful as the house is and as delicious as the food has been, I think someone’s had too much Christmas.” He flicked his eyes toward Eloise, in case she harbored any doubt about who he meant. There was no need to address the elephant in the room. Sue would berate him later.
Murmuring words of comfort in his daughter’s ear, she reluctantly got up, wiped her nose, and said her goodbyes. He loaded the car as quickly as possible, promising a return trip for any items left behind.
He started the engine, cautiously pulled out of the drive, and headed toward his destination.
“Daddy, you forgot to turn for our house.”
“I thought we’d take a detour.” He flashed a reassuring smile in the rearview mirror, but she continued to eye him with suspicion.
Her lower lip jutted forth, trembling slightly. “Oh no, I didn’t even get to sing and I practiced so hard this year. I thought Grandma would be impressed.”
“Maybe we can sing for someone else. Are you up for some caroling?”
“I don’t know, Daddy.” At least his petulant princess was honest. He admired that about her.
As he made the second to last turn she shouted, “We’re going to Miss Penny’s house, aren’t we?”
He smiled. He parked on the street, taking in the sight before him. One string of lights on the tree in the front window stubbornly refused to blink. A snowman with one short arm and one oversized branch stood guard in the front yard. Lights glowed softly within and people laughed in silhouette. So much warmth radiated from the home, he could have left his coat in the car.
“Come on. Let’s go show off your singing.”
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• • •
Chaos ruled Christmas morning at the Glazier house. Penelope carried all the presents from her little tree and burst through the backdoor of her parents’ house to the smell of bacon and frying onions. Her brother Owen chopped potatoes while his wife stood stirring the onions.
“Misty, what are you doing standing up? That baby looks ready to pop any minute now.”
“I’m not due for another month. If you want me to sit, you better get to work.”
“I’ll do my best to hurry back, but first I have to put my stuff down.”
In the large room that served as the living, play, family, and entertainment room, she scattered her gifts under the tree, including the mysterious package that appeared yesterday. Outside, the crunch of tires bouncing over the compacted snow at the end of the driveway alerted her to another guest. She rushed to the window and smiled at her older sister Ophelia’s minivan. She ran out to unstrap her eight-month-old nephew, Caleb, and bring him inside. Even through the swaddling, he smelled great. Her sister walked her three-year-old son Ben carefully inside as her brother-in-law carried several bags of presents and food for the buffet.
Surveying the chaos, she wished her youngest brother, Quinn, had come, too. But with the deadline on his graphic novel fast approaching, he couldn’t get home this year. She understood that. She’d missed a number of family gatherings due to work obligations.
They ate a hearty breakfast of hash browns, scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits, which turned out great in spite of her help. Preparing breakfast reminded her of how far she’d come in the last few months. If she stayed in one place, she could get an apartment and learn even more. She thought about Carson and how he taught himself to cook. It was almost as inspiring as his lovemaking. She saddened at the realization she wouldn’t experience either his cooking or his bed ever again. She pushed all thoughts of him out of her mind, refusing to let her recent disappointments spoil the festivities.
Right after breakfast, they made quick work of the presents under the tree. The huge box her father opened contained layer after layer to work through, revealing nothing more than a single pair of socks. Caleb kept dozing off and Ben tried to hide him under piles of discarded wrapping paper. The annual balled up paper fight was a tremendous success this year, knocking only one ornament off the tree. And best of all, for once, no one was sick.
She tried being covert when unwrapping the small package from Carson. She lifted the simple yet elegant silver charm necklace from the box. Two small blue stones that looked like sapphires sparkled on either side of a loop and in the center hung a delicately crafted fairy. His extravagance surprised her. It struck her as the sort of gift one might give a lover.
She caressed the cool metal, considering what it meant, if anything. Although they’d shared one magical night together, by all appearances, he still loved his deceased wife and he despised her desire to dance. He didn’t think much of her job. Yet to have selected something so perfect, he must have put some thought into it. Did he give her this because he felt guilty or because he genuinely liked her?
Her mother caught her eye and arched an eyebrow as she swiftly put it back in the box. She’d been caught.
Her mom swooped in. “That looked like a nice necklace. May I see it?”
She handed over the box, without sharing the tag.
“I doubt this came from your brothers or sister. It’s not their style.”
Her cheeks grew warm, but she stayed quiet.
“Is this from that widower with the girl, Eloise?”
She squirmed, chewing her lip and trying to hide her increasingly flushed cheeks.
Slapping her hand on her knee, her mother squealed. “I knew it. You’ve got that love glow.” The others turned her way.
Pressing her hands over her eyes and forehead, she tried to fight off the headache starting to thump. “Mom, you’re embarrassing me. Anyway, it’s not that simple.”
“It never is, dear. That’s why life is so wonderful.”
• • •
Penelope, her mom, and Ophelia washed the dinner prep pots and pans with the efficiency of a well oiled machine. Even though the men frequently volunteered to help, Mom Glazier preferred washing dishes with her girls and Penelope enjoyed the special time with Mom. It was their designated girl time where they giggled and gossiped. Over tea towels, Penelope and her mom first learned of Ophelia’s hopes for marriage. Normally, Penelope shared details of a disastrous date or lovelorn fan hoping to make Mom and Ophelia laugh. But when she cried over that lout who neglected to tell her he was married, Mom got her smiling again by threatening to move her to the washing end of the sink so she couldn’t re-wet the dishes.
She refused to fall for Mom’s efforts to learn more about the mysterious gift giver. She couldn’t explain what she didn’t understand, herself. She tried to deflect answers by talking about auditions. Ophelia must have sensed Penelope’s discomfort. She didn’t join in Mom’s efforts to probe. Instead, she mentioned she might homeschool her children. Mom Glazer turned her full attention on Ophelia, who in turn gave Penelope a thumbs up behind their mother’s back. She owed her sister, big time. Before the discussion grew heated, the doorbell chimed.
Mom paused. “Are we expecting anyone? Penelope, did Quinn tell you any secrets you should now share?”
“N — no.”
From the living room her dad shouted, “I’ll get it!”
Mom ran for the front door as she and Ophelia shook their heads. “I hope Mom isn’t too disappointed. Quinn really isn’t coming.” An enthusiastic rendition of Deck the Halls reached their ears. She knew those voices. Tossing the towel on kitchen counter, she pushed through the crowd of family gathered by the door. Carson and Eloise stood on the front porch. But why?
• • •
Carson watched as Penelope pushed her way past her family to shouts of, “Miss Penny! Miss Penny!”
Eloise quickly stopped singing in her excitement upon seeing her beloved teacher. He understood. She was radiant. His voice caught in his throat as she met his gaze and smiled.
She gave his daughter a hug. “Thank you for singing for us. What a wonderful surprise.”
Mom Glazier leaned in. “We should be able to find some hot chocolate for our carolers. Does anyone know how to make wassail? Wouldn’t that be fun? Just like the song.” She began nudging family out of the way to make room for their guests to come in. “Ophelia, take their coats. Shoes by the door, please. Penelope, introduce your friends.”
In no time, she introduced him to everyone, and Eloise joined Ben and his new wooden block set. Mom Glazier made peppermint schnapps hot chocolate, and Misty whipped up a non-alcoholic version for herself and the children.
“I hope we’re not intruding,” Carson told Penelope’s father.
“Not at all. You’ve given us an excuse for a kicked up drink.” Dad Glazier surveyed the room, and in a conspiratorial stage whisper, announced, “You might want to leave before the charades start though. This crowd looks dangerous.”
From across the room, a masculine voice shouted, “You don’t want to risk having any more young people around to whip your wrinkled butt!” A flying wad of wrapping paper followed.
“You’re going to get it. Teasing an old man like that.” Soon the room erupted into a chaotic free-for-all of airborne wrapping paper balls. Watching the paper sail through the air, he suspected Penelope frequently had to rebuild fairy houses when she was a girl. Her family was loud, but good natured. He heard far more laughter than taunting and when Mrs. Glazier put her fingers in her mouth and whistled, the chaos stopped before she finished asking everyone to mind the lamps. She spoke with authority, but not hostility. Everyone listened, even Eloise, who smiled sheepishly and turned back to the blocks. He now understood where Penelope learned her techniques for corralling the child
ren in her dance class.
Above all, he sensed the love. The genuine regard in which the family members held each other radiated outward, pulling him and Eloise into a figurative embrace. He couldn’t imagine Sue welcoming two extra people into her home on Christmas day. Unexpected guests would throw off her seeing arrangements and schedule.
His gaze met Penelope’s when she returned to the room. The left side of her mouth ticked upward as she bent forward to reach something on the floor without ever losing eye contact. He remembered how well her limber body fit against his and how the world seemed a good and happy place when he wrapped her in his arms.
Her hand shot out, launching a wrapping paper ball in his general vicinity. On instinct, he reached for it, plucking it from the air before it reached its target.
“Well,” declared Mrs. Glazier, “At least somebody cares about the lamps.”
• • •
Over the next few hours, Carson learned that Ophelia taught piano lessons and made her own curtains. Since he needed new curtains and wanted Eloise to start piano, he made sure to get her information. She apparently taught a few of his patients; she remembered his name from some mothers talking about putting on make-up and real clothes to “go see the kid’s doctor.” Then she laughed at his burning cheeks. Her missing-in-action younger brother, Quinn, drew comic books, while Owen wrote jingles. Her oldest brother, Nicholas, worked as a botanist making him the black sheep of the family for being the only one of the children with a traditional job. He learned Penelope once ran away to join the circus and dropped out of college to join a dance company in spite of having a full scholarship.
Tidings of Love Page 48
