Jamie went to do homework in his room, and Lucy started cleaning up the kitchen from dinner. Zoey stayed to help her.
“Do you really want me to do that church thing with you?” Zoey asked. “I mean, I know you do, but Charlie doesn’t.”
“Don’t mind him. He just doesn’t like surprises,” Lucy said, which was partly true. She glanced at Zoey as she covered a dish of leftovers with a piece of plastic wrap. “I want you to do it and so do the boys. So that makes three against one.”
Zoey looked grateful for her answer. “But I don’t have anything to wear,” she pointed out. “I mean, nothing churchy enough. Can I borrow a sweater or something?”
Lucy hadn’t thought about that. It was true. Lucy had bought her a few items of clothing, but mostly things to wear around the house. As for the clothes Zoey had brought with her, “not churchy enough” was an understatement. It was going to take more than a borrowed sweater to have her looking appropriate.
“I’ve got an idea. I think we just have to go shopping for something new,” Lucy said gleefully.
“You mean, like, to the mall or something?”
“Yes, to the mall. I think we can find some nice things there for you. You don’t want to wear my old stuff. It’ll be swimming on you and the styles are very . . . mom-ish.”
“You dress okay, Lucy,” Zoey said. “I mean, aside from the uniforms. You don’t dress too mom-ish.”
Not too mom-ish? That was some comfort. “Thanks, but that’s what we’ll do. Maybe we can even go for a manicure,” she added in a whisper. “Would you like that?”
Zoey’s eyes lit up. “That would be great. My nails look horrendous,” she said sincerely. “I have some money from my tips. I can pay for myself.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s an early Christmas present.” Lucy forced a bright note into her words, but they only served to remind her that Zoey might not even be with them on the holiday. At least I’m able to give her a nice gift before she goes, Lucy thought. And spending time together will be a gift to me.
Her plans with Zoey put Lucy in a good mood for the rest of the evening. Once the kids were all upstairs, she joined Charlie in the family room, toting along a big basket of laundry that needed to be folded. Lucy sat on the couch and pulled out a towel. Charlie was watching the news channel. She couldn’t tell if his dark scowl had been brought on by the world situation, or the one in his own kitchen an hour ago.
He wasted no time in answering that question.
“Why did you go and do that, Lucy? That girl doesn’t belong up on the altar with us. She’s not family,” he insisted. “And she knows it, as well as anybody.”
“We signed on to be her temporary guardians,” Lucy reminded him. “She’s part of our family until the social worker calls and says she has to move on to her permanent placement.”
“Everyone in church is going to talk about her. They’ll be asking questions we have no answers for.”
“What’s the difference? We’ll just say she had no place to go and she’s staying with us for a while. Period. End of story.”
“Easy for you to say. I don’t think it’s right. This candle-lighting thing is for families. Reverend Ben won’t like it,” he added.
“I already checked with Reverend Ben. I called him while I was making dinner. He thinks it’s fine. ‘A very nice idea.’ Those were his words exactly,” Lucy countered.
“Really? I don’t agree. I don’t get the point. I think it will do more harm than good. It will give her false hopes. And big expectations. Did you think about that at all?”
Lucy had to admit, so far she hadn’t thought too much about that side of the question. It was more or less the same point Rita Schuman had raised. Lucy wondered now if she thought she was being kind but actually setting the girl up for a fall. Was it wrong to treat Zoey as part of the family for the short time she was here? Would that do more harm than good in the long run?
She glanced at Charlie, unable to meet his eye. “You have a point,” she admitted. “But I know her a lot better than you do, Charlie. I know a little of what she’s been through and what she’s trying to deal with now. I think Zoey needs to feel that people care about her, that she has a place in the world and counts for something. Not that she’s invisible, or a nuisance—as if nobody wants her,” Lucy tried to explain. “Sure, it’s going to be hard for her when she goes. But it’s going to be hard either way—whether we make her feel included or we push her away and hold her at a distance from us. I think that in the long run, it’s better to pull her in, to let her know we care about her, even if she can’t stay forever.”
“Okay, okay, I get your point. It’s not the way I see it but . . . well, she’s not going to be here for very long, so what’s the point of arguing about it?” Charlie let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I’m going to bed,” he said. “Got to get up early tomorrow.”
Lucy nodded, then pulled a pair of jeans from the laundry pile and folded them into a neat square. “Good night, Charlie,” she replied evenly.
“Good night,” he said with another long sigh as he marched out of the room.
She felt some satisfaction in knowing Zoey would read with them on Sunday, no matter what Charlie thought. But even though she had won the battle, she knew she had not won the war. Zoey would soon leave them.
Could Charlie ever be persuaded to be a permanent guardian? Was that a mountain she could ever scale? Lucy wondered. She had seen a few small signs of his growing acceptance of Zoey. He had even noted that she was catching on to her new job quickly and might make a pretty good waitress someday. Underneath all his arguing and his gruff manner, her husband was essentially a good man. But before they could take Zoey into their home permanently, Charlie had to take her into his heart. And Lucy wasn’t sure if that would ever happen.
LUCY PICKED ZOEY UP AT THE DINER ON THURSDAY NIGHT WHEN SHE got back to Cape Light after working at the hospital. They decided to go straight to the mall and have a bite to eat in the food court after they finished shopping.
Zoey didn’t show her excitement in an obvious way, but Lucy could tell she was happy.
Lucy felt happy, too. She had been looking forward to this. When she told Charlie about her plans, she had expected an argument, but he just shook his head. “You’ll do what you want no matter what I say. Just watch what you spend, okay? One outfit for church, so she doesn’t totally embarrass us.”
Lucy had agreed but, of course, planned on buying Zoey much more than one outfit—if they could find some clothing acceptable to both of them. She could hardly wait to see Zoey in a dress—a nice dress, one that wasn’t too tight, too short, or purposely torn to shreds.
“So, where should we go?” Lucy asked as they walked down the first row of stores. “That store has some cute things.” She pointed to a window. Zoey checked out the display, but her expression looked bleak.
“I don’t think so . . . too expensive,” she said quickly. Lucy suspected that Zoey also considered the styles too prim and preppy. “I know a good place. It’s just down this way. Follow me,” Zoey said.
Lucy quickened her pace to keep up, and they soon arrived at a store that did look more Zoey’s style. Lucy was wary. “I don’t know, honey. It might be more reasonable, but will you find anything right for church in here? We are going to stand up at the altar,” she reminded Zoey.
“Don’t worry. I’ll put something decent together. I know I have to look serious. I just don’t want to look like queen of the geeks.”
Lucy nodded. “Okay, let’s see what they have.”
Loud rock music assaulted Lucy’s ears from every direction. She could hardly hear herself think. How could anyone shop in this environment?
Meanwhile, Zoey was instantly excited, as animated as Lucy had ever seen her. She skipped from rack to rack, pulling out hangers, putting things back, and slinging other items over her arm.
Lucy followed a few steps behind. She didn’t offer any comment on the choices—one o
f which was neon purple—but was secretly wondering what she had gotten herself into. She suddenly realized. She’d been having some lovely daydream about helping Zoey choose clothes—tailored, classic styles. Which were the complete opposite of Zoey’s actual taste. She had never expected a place—or clothing—like this. If they returned home with some wild outfit, Lucy knew she would never hear the end of it from Charlie.
Zoey went into a dressing room and Lucy waited outside. When the girl didn’t come out for a very long time, Lucy leaned over and whispered through the curtain, “How are you doing in there? Any luck?” She didn’t really know if she wanted a yes or a no for an answer.
“Just a sec. I think I found something.”
Lucy held her breath.
Zoey finally emerged, wearing a sleeveless dress with a black background and a smattering of multicolored dots, hot pink, light blue, and yellow. It was bright but not too bright, Lucy thought. It wasn’t too short or too tight. And the scoop neck and high waist were practically modest.
“What do you think?” Zoey asked hesitantly.
“I think that’s really nice.” Lucy stepped back to get a better look, unable to hide the surprise in her voice.
It certainly wasn’t the dress Lucy would have picked out. But it was a pretty dress and Zoey looked cute in it. “It’s just your style,” Lucy added. “You look very pretty.”
Zoey seemed pleased by her compliments. “And I can wear this on top if you think going sleeveless isn’t right for church.” She slipped on a black sweater that had long sides that sort of wrapped around and tied in front. “What do you think? Is it too much?”
“I think it’s very stylish,” Lucy said honestly. “You have very good taste, Zoey.” When you’re trying to look churchy, that is.
“Thanks.” Zoey smiled at her.
“So, what else did you find? We can get more than one outfit,” Lucy told her, feeling encouraged. “How about some new sweaters and jeans? Or something for every day?”
“I thought we were just getting clothes for Sunday. You don’t need to get me anything else. Honest.”
“It’s Christmas, Zoey,” Lucy reminded her. When it seemed that Zoey wasn’t convinced, Lucy said, “Listen, you just show me some things that you like. Maybe Santa will surprise you.”
Zoey rolled her eyes a little, but Lucy could see she was going to take the bait. It took a little more convincing, but what teenage girl doesn’t like to shop for clothes?
Pretty soon, Zoey was giving her a guided tour of her favorite store, and then they went on to two others, including a shoe store, where she tried on a pair of “totally awesome boots.”
Lucy made a few notes on a little piece of paper, so she would remember it all. She certainly couldn’t buy everything on Zoey’s wish list, but she wanted to make a solid dent.
Along with the dress and sweater, they bought two long-sleeved tops, a pair of jeans, and some dressy flats to wear on Sunday.
After making a round of the stores, they headed to the food court. “I’m starved,” Lucy said. “Shopping works up a real appetite.”
“How true,” Zoey agreed. “I think I’ll get a taco at that Tex-Mex window. It has the shortest line.”
“Sounds good to me.” Lucy followed her and they got on line. Lucy stared at the menu, trying to figure out which entree had the least calories. She loved Mexican food, but she was watching her diet these days, trying to save her carbs and fat grams for all the treats at Christmas.
A group of noisy teenagers walked up to a line nearby, in front of a Pizza Express counter. Lucy didn’t notice them at first, but they were making so much noise, she finally turned to glance their way. There were girls and boys together, acting goofy and loud.
They didn’t really look like nice kids, Lucy thought. Of course, she was judging from their clothes and the things they were shouting at each other, which included some pretty foul language. Zoey was looking at the group of teens, too. Then she suddenly turned and stared straight ahead, her body stiff. The man at the counter asked her what she wanted, and she didn’t answer.
She turned to Lucy instead. “I have to go to the ladies room. I’ll be right back.”
Lucy was confused. “Do you want me to order something for you?”
“No . . . don’t do that. I’m not hungry. I don’t feel well,” she said quickly, backing away. “I’ll meet you at the car.”
Then she turned and ran off toward the mall exit, a short distance away.
Lucy followed her. She glanced over her shoulder at the rowdy group, wondering if they had anything to do with this strange behavior. She finally caught up with Zoey just outside the mall.
Zoey turned, looking as if she thought Lucy might be mad at her. “I’m sorry I left you like that. . . . I really needed some air.”
Lucy gently touched her arm and searched her eyes. “Are you okay? Do you feel dizzy or anything?” Maybe she was having a relapse of her lung infection.
“I’m okay,” Zoey assured her. She glanced over her shoulder at the mall and still seemed spooked by something. “Can we go back now? I’m really tired.”
“Sure. Let’s go,” Lucy said as they headed into the parking lot. “I love burritos, but I didn’t need the calories,” she said lightly.
Once they got in the car and were driving back to Cape Light, Zoey seemed to relax. “Thanks for the clothes, Lucy,” she said quietly. “I love the dress and the wrap sweater. I’m going to pay you back for everything. Out of my waitressing money.”
“That’s okay, Zoey. I told you before, don’t worry about it. Consider them early Christmas presents. Besides, we are taking care of you right now. I want to make sure you have everything you need.”
Zoey didn’t say anything. She just stared out the window.
They drove along in silence for a while before Lucy said, “Listen, did something about those kids in the food court bother you?”
“What kids?”
“That group of teenagers who got on the line next to us. The ones who were so noisy and obnoxious.” Lucy turned and looked at her, trying to see her expression in the dark. “Do you know them from your old school or something?”
Zoey quickly shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, I hardly noticed them. They were just . . . you know, a bunch of kids hanging out, I guess.”
“I guess,” Lucy agreed. Something in Zoey’s words didn’t ring true, but Lucy didn’t know how to pursue it, or if she should even bother.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ON SUNDAY MORNING, LUCY JUMPED OUT OF BED BEFORE HER alarm rang and woke the entire household. They couldn’t be late for church today. Everyone had to get dressed up and look especially nice and well-groomed. Which was sometimes a challenge for her boys, but she had already picked out their outfits—khaki pants, crewneck sweaters, and dress shirts underneath.
C.J. looked alarmed at her choice for him. “Is that a joke? I’ll look like a total dork.”
“No joke,” Lucy told him. “Would you rather have your father pick out your outfit?”
Her son rolled his eyes and fell back on his bed, as if he had been struck over the head.
They both knew what Charlie’s first choice would be—a navy blue suit that C.J.’s grandmother had bought him. Which made him look a lot like a miniature Charlie.
“The undertaker suit? . . . No thanks. I’ll do the sweater.”
“I thought you’d see my point.”
Jamie was easier. He wasn’t at an age when boys cared much about their clothes—or even noticed if the clothes were clean or colors matched.
For herself, Lucy chose a brown tweed suit that had tones of gold and spicy amber. With a silk blouse underneath, the outfit complemented her red hair and fair coloring. She wore gold earrings and a diamond heart necklace Charlie had given her several Christmases back. As she left the bedroom, she noticed that Charlie was wearing his best charcoal gray suit. He looked very handsome in it, she thought, except for the red tie with the candy can
e print. Lucy thought that was a little tacky but overall, he looked nice and she didn’t want to start an argument with him this morning. He hadn’t said another word about Zoey doing the reading either.
They had all had one more practice, reading their parts together, but Lucy had rehearsed with Zoey a few times in her room. Lucy was now convinced that Zoey had some sort of learning disability—dyslexia maybe?—that had never been properly diagnosed or addressed. If only she would go back to school again, Lucy thought, this time she would get the help she needed.
Lucy checked on the boys and was pleased to see they were almost ready.
Zoey had her door closed, and Lucy called up to her. “Zoey? How are you doing, honey? We have to leave soon. Need any help?”
“I’m good. I’ll be right down,” she shouted back.
Lucy went downstairs, feeling a little anxious. What if Zoey had decided at the last minute that she didn’t like the dress they’d chosen and put on one of her old favorites instead? The shredded denim miniskirt and black fishnet stockings came to mind. Lucy shuddered at the thought.
The others soon came down and joined her in the kitchen, quickly eating bowls of cereal. Charlie sipped his coffee, being extra careful of his tie. “Where’s the girl? Isn’t she coming?”
Lucy glanced at him. She could tell he was hoping that Zoey was backing out at the last minute. “She’ll be right down.”
“Here I am.” Zoey stood in the kitchen doorway. She wore her new dress, the wrap sweater, and low black flats with her long hair pushed back from her face with a wide band.
She paused, a self-conscious expression on her face. Everyone turned to look at her. Lucy blinked. She didn’t even recognize the child for a moment.
“Wow! You look like a model,” Jamie nearly shouted, practically spilling his cereal.
C.J. swallowed hard and looked back at his breakfast. Lucy could see he agreed.
On Christmas Eve Page 19
