Nothing had been the same since that helicopter crash. Each year since he’d died in Iraq, Larry had come to her on Christmas Eve. She’d never told anyone for fear they would think she was crazy, but on this one special night she could forget the hurt and the loneliness, and focus on feeling his love once more to the very depths of her soul. She spent 364 days in anticipation of having one night with only his spirit. Besides her children, it was the only thing that gave her purpose.
“Mommy, I said, can I have more?” Sarah held up her mug, her impatience knocking Emma back to reality.
“I don’t want you to spoil your dinner. You can have more tomorrow.” Emma took the cup from her daughter. Unfortunately, everything was the same except Larry was dead.
Inhaling deeply to calm the building emptiness, she pasted a smile she didn’t quite feel onto her face and brushed the back of her hand against Sarah’s still rosy cheeks. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you, too, Mommy.” Sarah slid from the chair and ventured back to the living room with her brother not far behind. How easy it was to be a child. Their innocence and love made Emma want to cry. But she wouldn’t, not now. She would be strong if only for them.
Using the remaining hot water from the teakettle, Emma made a cup of tea and stared at her list of things to do. Instead of getting easier, this year seemed harder than ever. She never should have volunteered for the dinner. She needed to stop putting herself in situations like this, situations that reminded her how lonely she was without her husband.
Once the holidays were over, Emma would talk to Clare at the base and gracefully bow out of any other duties with the bereavement group. Eventually she would stop coming to their monthly meetings, too. They were such a strong support system, but at times Emma wondered if they were all just a crutch for each other.
Talking about death and loneliness for hours didn’t make her feel better, or change anything. It was like reliving Larry’s death over and over each month. All of the tears drained her energy so that it took about four days to recover from their group sessions. To think she’d been doing this for three years. It was time to stop. Emma refused to go to a private therapist, she couldn’t afford one anyway. She didn’t want to talk about Larry’s death anymore. She wanted to bask in his spirit, and be with him whenever she could.
Which was why she’d been visiting every psychic medium within eighty miles of Martin’s Landing, New York, in hopes that someone could be that contact for her. There had to be a way to put her in touch with Larry more than once a year. She didn’t want to be without him anymore.
Walking to the counter, she pressed the flashing button on the answering machine.
“Emma? This is Madame Zelda confirming our appointment tomorrow. I look forward to providing the peace you need.”
And that was it. Tomorrow after her shift at the department store, relief could very well be in the hands of Madame Zelda. Emma stared at the phone, filled with a new hope and energy. Everything was going to work out. She would get through the holidays and be able to stay in touch with Larry for the rest of her life.
Maybe there was some truth to miracles after all?
CHAPTER TWO
“Are you going to make it until quitting time?” Emma asked her friend Traci as they straightened racks at Macy’s department store.
“Just counting the hours.” The pencil-thin redhead checked her watch, then looked around the store. “How can you be so calm? Today is the big day.”
“I know. I’m trying not to think about it much.”
“Why? This is what you’ve been waiting for isn’t it? You could finally find someone to help you, Emma. I think this is fantastic.”
“But what if Madame Zelda isn’t who she claims? She could be no different than all the others. I’m so tired of being disappointed.”
“Think positive. After all, it’s Christmas, the season of miracles.”
There was that word again. Emma had turned into a non-believer years ago. If miracles were real, then someone somewhere would see how much she needed Larry and bring him back. Now that would be a true miracle.
“You’re right,” she said for Traci’s sake. They had been instant friends since their husbands left for their first tour in Iraq. Three tours later, Mike had come home with a purple heart and a prosthetic leg, but at least he’d come home. “Madame Zelda could be the answer to my prayers.”
“You have to believe it, Emma. Good things come to those who are patient, or whatever that saying is.” Traci turned to re-fold a stack of sweaters. “I think it’s time. Open up to Madame Zelda. My sister-in-law, Olivia, goes to her once a month for guidance. Trust me, she wouldn’t keep going if the lady was a hoax.”
“Okay, positive attitude, I’ve got it.” Emma moved to straighten another display. Closing her eyes, she told herself this was it. It had to be.
“On to something fun,” her friend conveniently changed the subject and Emma relaxed. “Are you taking the kids on base to see Santa? Meghan and Drew can’t wait.”
“I don’t think so, not this year.”
“Oh, c’mon, we always have fun. Now that Ben is a little older, maybe he won’t get scared like last year.”
“Traci, I’m just tired. You know they’re going to extend our hours this week, and I have so much to do for the Post 518 dinner. I just don’t know when I could fit it in.”
“Oh, I understand. But if you want Mike and I to take the kids so you can get some time to yourself, just let me know.”
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
“Hey, you know I try.” Traci gave her a quick hug. “So how are plans for the dinner coming, anyway?”
“Ugh, slow. I’ve started gathering supplies. A couple ladies volunteered to bake some desserts. Jake is checking to see if we can use the community room at the fire station.”
“Ahhh, firefighter Jake, with the razor cut brown hair, rock-solid body and green eyes to die for.” Traci sighed. “He’s such a nice guy. I think there should be more men like Jake Nicklaus in this world. We should try to snag a DNA sample and clone him, what do you think? Either that or start a fire.”
“You have a husband, remember?” Emma couldn’t place the sudden twist in her stomach at the mention of Jake. “He’s been such a good friend and neighbor. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“Why don’t you bring him with the kids to see Santa?”
“Not a good idea.”
“Why not? You’ve never seen him with a girlfriend, right? At least you’d have some adult company if you don’t have to worry about coordinating with us.”
“No. Larry and I always dreamed of doing this kind of thing. I can’t imagine going with anyone else.”
“But Sarah was so young when he died. Does she even remember?”
“She remembers when we look at pictures.” Emma knew it was only because she continued to talk about Larry to Sarah every chance she had. “Ben never got to see his father.” Which was one more reason why Emma didn’t like Christmas, or any other kind of family holiday, for that matter.
“Then let me ask you this,” Traci stopped working and crossed her arms over her ample chest. “After all this time, have you ever looked at Jake as more than just a neighbor?”
“What?” Emma was horrified. “Of course not, how could you even think that?”
“Because he’s a young, handsome, hardworking guy with apparent morals if he hasn’t so much as hit on you. Look at you.” Traci spun Emma around to face a mirror. “Gorgeous! You won’t find many men like Jake Nicklaus around in this day and age.”
“And I don’t want to. Ugh, why am I even having this discussion with you? My life is fine, Traci. I have enough to do. I don’t need a man in my life to complicate things.”
Emma moved to another rack and mindlessly arranged clothing. She felt light-headed and attributed the feeling to nerves and the current topic of discussion. Traci followed and stopped Emma’s shaking hands.
“I’
m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know how much you miss Larry, how much you still love him. But Emma, you can’t stop living.”
“I’m not. I live each day, working and taking care of the kids. That’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“When was the last time you did something, anything, just for yourself?” Traci only paused a nano-second, not giving Emma a chance to respond. “I’m your best friend, and I see you getting lost in all of this. I just want you to enjoy life again.”
“I enjoy it with Ben and Sarah, and that’s enough for now. No one will ever replace Larry. Even if it were possible, what man in their right mind would want a ready-made family?”
“Don’t close yourself off, Emma. Sometimes, you find it where you least expect it.”
“Since when are you so interested in my love life?” Emma smiled, knowing Traci meant well. Unfortunately, the odds of what she spoke of actually happening were slim to none.
“Since I noticed every year you seem to be losing a bit more of yourself. I want the old Emma back.”
“I’m still here. Stop your worrying.” As much as part of Emma wanted to believe she could be ready, the larger part of her heart wouldn’t be unfaithful to Larry. “Jake and I are friends, so let’s just leave it at that. Listen, I’m going to take my break now and call Mom to make sure she’s still picking up the kids.”
“Go ahead. If you need me, let me know.”
Emma looked at the clock. One more hour, and her whole life could change forever.
***
Madame Zelda was nothing more than an opportunist like all the rest. What a waste of time and money. Emma cried the entire way home. The fake medium didn’t tell her anything she couldn’t have read in a newspaper archive. When Emma had asked her to contact Larry, the gypsy-looking woman had waved her hands in the air and announced the spirit to earth connection was weak.
Weak?
No. Emma didn’t buy it. This was her Larry, who vowed he would never leave her, that he would come back from the war and they would raise their family. Nothing could keep him away from her. That was about the only thing Emma believed these days. She just had to find the right person to help her, and her options were running low.
Pulling into the driveway, she hid the pile of tissues underneath the bottle of wine she’d stopped to buy. She usually never drank, but tonight she needed to. There were no more mediums on her list, which meant she needed to widen her search. She had no idea what she would do if they didn’t pan out, either.
Her mother met her at the door, giving her a curious look over the bottle of wine. Hannah Simons never condoned alcohol and, to Emma’s knowledge, had never touched it in all of her fifty-seven years.
“That’s not going to solve your problems, honey.”
“Mom, I just need to relax. I’ve had one heck of a day.”
“I can stay if you want to talk.” Her mother’s fingers hesitated over a button on her coat.
“Thanks, but I’m okay. I’m going to enjoy the quiet with a glass of wine and hopefully have a good night’s sleep for once.”
“You’re still not sleeping?” Her mother pulled a hat over her platinum-frosted waves, her blue eyes full of concern. “Have you seen a doctor? It’s not healthy not to sleep.”
“It’s just this time of year, that’s all.” Emma gently nudged her mother out the door. “I’m fine.” She lied.
“Well, okay.” Her mother shot her a disbelieving look before slowly stepping off the porch. “I’ll call you tomorrow about Sunday dinner. Aunt Pat and Uncle Robbie are coming through town on their way to Florida.”
“Sounds fun. ‘Nite, Mom.”
Emma stood with her back against the door, feeling as if the silence would swallow her up. From out the window, she could see the snow falling in big, fluffy flakes and for a moment she wished for Sarah’s innocence. This wouldn’t hurt so much if she was too young to understand.
“Good, Lord, get a grip on yourself,” she scolded out loud before grabbing the bottle off the end table and heading toward the kitchen to open it. A large, tiger cat scampered in front of her and she almost tripped. “Jingles! One of these days I’m sending you to the animal shelter.”
She stopped to glare at the old tom cat. Even though she threatened him at least several times a week, she knew in her heart she’d never get rid of him. Larry had brought him home from his first tour of duty. While the fat cat could be a pain in the butt sometimes, he was all about the family and patrolled the house like he owned the place. The kids adored him.
“Meow.”
“I suppose you want a treat? Well hop on up here and join me.” Emma tapped the stool and the cat jumped up. She poured herself a glass of red wine, and scattered a few pieces of dry cat food onto a napkin on the counter. “Cheers.”
Looking around her kitchen, she noticed her mother had washed the dishes and picked up the countertops. A peek through the mudroom showed she’d even washed a couple loads of laundry. Typical Mom, couldn’t sit still once the kids were in bed. Emma didn’t realize she’d been gone that long, but she hadn’t told her mother about the medium. Traci was the only one who knew.
“What am I going to do?” she asked the cat.
The first glass of wine warmed her inside. She’d been so nervous about meeting Madame Zelda, she hadn’t been able to eat much throughout the day. Now her empty stomach protested against the incoming alcohol. Emma found the dinner plate her mother had left in the refrigerator and warmed it into the microwave. Soon, the smell of roasted chicken and herbed potatoes overpowered her senses.
The cat meowed again, and she tossed him a small piece of chicken. Pouring just one more glass of wine, Emma sat at the table to enjoy her dinner. Even the wine wasn’t filling the huge hole in her heart, and after a few bites she didn’t want to eat anymore. She couldn’t give up yet. Larry was out there and she desperately needed him.
Feeling restless, Emma searched for the page she’d ripped out of the phone book. They held the names of the remaining mediums in the surrounding areas. Her mother had done too good of a job cleaning up because her paper was gone. Panic rose in Emma’s throat as she flipped through the current mail and papers. The faded yellow page was nowhere to be found.
Realizing her mother must have thrown it out she rushed to the back door not bothering to grab her coat. What if one of the other mediums was “the one”? She could be missing out on the only way to be with her husband again.
“It has to be here.” She lifted the trash can lid and hauled out an over-stuffed plastic bag. Ripping it open, she dropped to the ground sifting through each paper, tossing pieces of garbage on the ground and back into the can. “Where is it? Where is it?” Her voice sounded almost hysterical and she looked to no avail.
“Emma? What are you doing out here?” Jake tucked his hands under his armpits. “I thought for sure there was a raccoon scouring the neighborhood again.”
“I have to find it,” she said through chattering teeth.
“Find what? You don’t even have a coat on.” He peeled off his khaki sweater and draped it over her shoulders. “Why aren’t you doing this inside where it’s warm?”
“I don’t want to wake the children. I have to find those numbers.” She wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist, pushing the hair out of her face. “It can’t be lost. I need them.” She paused and added under her breath, “I need him.”
“Tell me what it is you’re looking for.” Jake knelt beside her. “Let me help before you freeze to death.” His hand rested on top of hers when he tried to take the trash bag out of her grip. For a split second a jolt of something warm surged up her arm. She studied his chiseled features, which held the same wide-eyed expression, and had a feeling he felt something too. Or was her imagination playing tricks thanks to Traci and the glass of wine?
“You know what? I can look for it tomorrow.” Emma stood and backed away, suddenly not wanting to let Jake in on her secret. “It’s just a page from the phone
book. There’s no need for you to stay out here and catch a cold.”
“If you say so.” He stood, eyeing her curiously and handed the bag back to her. “You sure you’re okay? I can search through this if you want to go inside.”
“I’m fine, really.” She noticed how wide and strong his hands were. “I think I over reacted because my mother ‘tidied up’ when I was ... at work.”
“Still, I’ll look if you want me too.”
“Thanks anyway, Jake, but you can go. I feel like a complete idiot for bringing you out here.” She pulled his sweater off her shoulders and handed it back. The crisp winter air quickly penetrating her gold blouse.
“You’re not an idiot. Besides, this can’t be any worse than the time you made that apple pie for the church bake sale and forgot the sugar.” He smiled and she froze with the trash sack hovering over the plastic can.
She had been pregnant with Sarah at the time and blamed her forgetfulness on hormones. She’d been so embarrassed when Father Charlie purchased the sour dessert. She and Larry vowed never to tell anyone it was hers. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember sharing that story with Jake. Then again, she felt so comfortable talking to him, she very well could have told him, and probably did. With a satisfied nod, she dropped the trash into the can and closed the lid.
“Listen, you can borrow my phone book if you don’t find the numbers you need.” He motioned back toward his house.
“I’ll take another look inside first. I’m sure it’s there somewhere.”
“Do you mind me asking who you’re looking up? Maybe I know the number.”
She opened her mouth to tell him, but then the curtain came down to stop her. Would he really understand? He didn’t know anything about Larry except what she told him over the years. Jake continued to be a neighbor and a friend and she didn’t want to risk losing that. Her lips twitched in thought and she took a deep breath before answering carefully.
“I’ve been looking into some different agencies, that’s all.”
“Agencies? For what? Are you looking for a nanny or some kind of help with the kids?”
Santa Wore Combat Boots Page 2
