They? What did he mean ‘they’? Just her mom, her sister and brother-in-law and their kids? Or somebody else, too? She had to figure out a way to ask the question – she didn’t want to be surprised when she walked in the door. “Merry Christmas, Dad. What have I missed so far?”
Her father navigated his way into the airport traffic and said, “Let’s see. Had to get a new water heater day before yesterday, be glad you missed that one. Some kind of cookie-baking disaster – not too sure how that came out – garage door’s stuck again, you know, the usual.”
“How ‘bout this morning?”
“Well, Emma’s been asking for you every five minutes since six o’clock. They let her get started on her presents to get her calmed down, so by now, I’d guess she’s about halfway through.”
Hmm, Emily thought. She’d kind of lost track of the number of toys she’d ordered from catalogs. “I suppose I’m partly responsible for that,” she said.
“Oh, honey, we’re all responsible for that. Your mother bought an enormous dollhouse, and about a thousand pieces of furniture to go inside. Aaron was trying to put it together when I left and he wasn’t looking pleased.”
“How are they going to get that back to Phoenix?”
“Beats me,” her dad said with a shrug.
Emily thought a moment. “So who’s coming over later? What time are we going to eat?” she asked as casually as she could.
“That’s your mother’s department. Around four, I guess. As for personnel, the usual suspects, I assume.” He thought for a moment. “Although your cousin Alec went skiing or scuba diving or something – you can ask your mom.”
How frustrating. Emily was trying to conjure up her carefully practiced wait-and-see frame of mind when her dad added, “Oh, and Joe Chandler’s coming over later. At least I think they were talking about that.”
It took a minute for Emily to get control of her voice. “That’s nice,” she said neutrally. “When did he get back to town?”
Her father glanced over at her, surprised. “Oh. He never left. I’m surprised your mother didn’t mention it.”
Emily was stunned. “He’s been staying up on our third floor since Thanksgiving?”
Again, her dad looked surprised. “No, no. Just for a couple of nights after you went back to Boston. He moved into his old house, the one he grew up in, works every day fixing it up.”
“No kidding,” was all she could think to say. She needed to think this over. “Dad, you mind if I try and close my eyes for the rest of the drive? I’ve been up since the crack of dawn.”
“Good idea, sweetheart. Try to get a little rest and I’ll have you home in a jiffy.”
For the next forty minutes, Emily worked to absorb this news. She knew Joe had taken the huge step of visiting the family home he’d abandoned after his family died, but she couldn’t get her head around the idea that he’d actually moved in. But come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t strange at all – she really didn’t know him.
For the first time, she began to think about how complicated this reunion was going to be. Everything they didn’t know about each other would be so glaringly obvious, and…what if it turned out she didn’t even like him?
What if she’d fallen half in love with a character she’d simply whipped up to suit her daydreams – the lonely, heartbroken man in need of her warm embrace? How was she going to feel about a guy who sounded pretty different from the one she’d met a few weeks ago? Well, she thought, it’s really wait-and-see time now. But damn, she would hate to let go of all those fantasies she’d created lately.
When she felt the car slow, she opened her eyes to see they were already turning into the driveway -- apparently she had drifted off at some point. The front door opened and Emma, her five-year-old niece, came flying out to begin tugging at the door handle the instant the car stopped.
“Come inside, come inside and see what I got,” she said.
Emily’s sister Abby appeared at the door. “Oh, Emma, you don’t even have your shoes on. Back inside, please,” she called.
“I can solve that problem,” said Emily as she leaned over and tried to lift her niece. “Oh, oof. Maybe not,” she said. “You’re such a big girl now, sweetie.”
Emma scampered back inside looking very proud, then stood in the doorway, beckoning Emily to hurry. “Go on, go on,” her father said. “I’ll bring in the suitcase.”
Inside, Emily just managed to get her coat off before she was taken by the hand and dragged into the living room. Ah, Christmastime at home. The tree, though as usual listing slightly to one side, was beautiful. From the mantelpiece adorned with cards hung a lone stocking, the one with the happy reindeer – hers. George the black Lab was on his bed by the fire, trying to ignore the awkwardly tied red bow around his neck.
Her brother-in-law Aaron was sitting cross-legged on the floor over in the corner, glancing from an instruction booklet to a pile of unidentifiable small pieces beside him. He looked up at Emily, gave her a quick “Merry Christmas” and went back to work. Abby picked up her daughter, set her on the sofa and pulled off the wet socks. “I want you to go find your slippers and then you can show Aunt Emily your presents.”
“Where’s Mom?” Emily asked her sister.
Abby rolled her eyes. “Guess.”
As she walked down the hall to the kitchen, Emily’s mouth began to water. Definitely coffee, and something with cheese, and chocolate, she thought, trying to sort out the different aromas. Her mom sat at the kitchen table frosting an oddly shaped cake. “Don’t get up,” Emily said, kissing her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”
“Merry Christmas, dear. How was your flight?”
They chatted for a few minutes and then Emily asked, “Mom? What is that going to be?”
Her mother sat back and sighed. “It’s going to be a long, crooked chocolate cake with funny-colored frosting. Guess what it was supposed to be.”
“A Yule log?”
“Well, I’m not as far off as I feared. But I’m tired of fussing with it. Bring me a wet paper towel so I can clean up the plate, and then I’m moving on. I just hope it tastes good.”
Emma ran in, demanding her aunt’s attention. Her mom waved her off, telling her to go relax for a while. Out in the living room, Abby was carefully picking her way around, shoving crumpled giftwrap and ribbon into a garbage bag. Her dad, his feet in new slippers, was channel surfing with the volume muted; a CD of carols was playing.
After admiring Emma’s collection of loot, Emily distributed the presents she’d had delivered. Upstairs in her suitcase, she had a pair of sheepskin gloves for Joe, which she hoped to deliver in private. She smiled to herself, remembering the way she’d zoned out at the department store counter as she imagined his long fingers slipping into the warm, fuzzy lining.
Her mom came in and sat, alerting everyone that they needed to remind her to check the roast in twenty minutes. Another round of gift-giving began. Emily loved the soft sweater set from her parents and her sister had genuinely surprised her with a beautiful pair of suede boots. And of course nothing could compare with the macaroni necklace Emma had constructed.
Around two o’clock, just as everyone was slipping into a peaceful stupor, Emily’s mom announced it was time to get dressed and try to get the house back in shape for company. “I think I’ll get my shoes on and have another try at the garage door,” her father said.
“Oh, Mike, leave that for Joe. He’ll let us pay him for that if we argue long enough,” replied her mom.
“Fine by me,” he said. “In that case, I’ll get going on my famous eggnog.”
“A little less lethal this year, okay Dad?” called Abby as he left.
A muttered reply along the lines of “takes all the fun out of it,” drifted back. Emily went upstairs with Abby, stopped in to peek at her sleeping baby nephew and went into her room to change clothes. The new sweaters would be perfect for seeing Joe again – demure, but so soft and cuddly. The macaroni necklace
might be slightly less alluring, but still the perfect accessory.
The doorbell rang; Emily put on a little lipstick and went downstairs, her heart fluttering. It was probably more just more family, she told herself.
Her mom’s sister Dottie was standing above Aaron, unwinding a very long knitted scarf from her neck. She turned as Emily approached. “Well, it’s clear your mother has completely taken leave of her senses. Look at the size of this thing. Merry Christmas, dear, you’re looking well, if a little tired.”
“Merry Christmas, Aunt Dottie – I got up at 4:30 my time,” Emily said and yawned at the thought.
“Here, dear, take this thing and put it away, will you,” said her aunt, handing her the scarf. “Don’t know why I bought the silly thing. Your mother in the kitchen?” Without waiting for a reply, she headed down the hall. “Herb, I want you to pace yourself with that eggnog,” she called back to her husband as she walked away.
*
Joe sat in the old truck with his eyes closed, his forehead on the steering wheel, and accepted the fact it was time to give up. Okay, he told himself, you now have two, no three, options – change out of the only decent clothes you own and tinker with the engine for another hour, take the bike, or call over to the Elmores and ask someone to come and pick you up. They wouldn’t really mind and—
Wait. Maybe Emily would come. That would be terrific; they could meet again without everyone hovering around and…no. He’d look broke and inept and needy, the last thing he wanted to do. Of course, he was broke and needy, but maybe he could avoid the “hapless” label. It was a miracle she was interested in him in the first place, so it was probably better not to emphasize his weak points.
With a not-very-Christmas-y oath, he climbed out of the truck and wheeled the bike he’d had since high school from the back of the garage. At least the roads were clear, and it was only a few miles – he’d take it slow and try not to arrive dripping with sweat.
As it turned out, the ride was rather pleasant. It seemed cycling in December wasn’t unusual at all on Christmas Day; he lost count of the kids he saw trying out obviously brand-new bikes. Dads were out in driveways attaching basketball hoops or assembling soccer goals, and he had to swerve around a lot of wobbly novice skateboarders, roller skaters and scooter riders.
Everyone smiled, waved, shouted Merry Christmas; the air was cold but not frigid. By the time he reached the Elmore house, his spirits had lifted and he felt he could greet Emily in a reasonable frame of mind. Then, as he rode up the drive, he was seized by something close to panic.
What was he doing? How had he allowed himself to become so invested in such an obviously hopeless relationship? This was a woman with an important career on the other side of the country and she was probably deeply embarrassed she’d ever gotten involved with him. At this very moment, she would be putting the finishing touches on her “we had fun but it was a mistake” speech, trying to think of a way to let him down gently. Aauugh, why had he accepted this invitation?
Best to get it over with, though. He’d said he would see her at Christmas and he didn’t want to break his promise, no matter how rash it had been. They’d both, he thought, gotten pretty carried away back at Thanksgiving, overwhelmed by nothing more than great sex and some kind of natural compatibility.
Well, he’d just have to deal with the consequences. He could do that – just stay cool, be polite and friendly but let her know he didn’t expect her to feel the same way she had a month ago. He took a deep breath and reached to ring the bell.
The door swung open and Emily’s uncle rushed out, almost knocking Joe off the porch. “Well, hello there, Merry Christmas, left some gifts back at the hotel, what’s your name again?” he said.
“I’m Joe, good to see you again, Herb.”
“Same here. Well, see you later, be careful of the eggnog,” he said and hurried away.
Joe walked in and surveyed the scene. Mr. Elmore sat watching basketball with a beer in his hand; Abby was reading to Emma on the sofa; Aaron was on the floor across the room, staring off into space with a frustrated expression. Emily stood above him, holding a booklet in her hand and leaning over to point at something under the tree. “There,” she was saying, “what’s that piece over there, on your left? Maybe that’s it.”
No one had heard him come in. He stood still for a moment, waiting for his heartbeat to slow. He wanted to stride across the room, wrap his arms around her, pull her close, kiss her. He wanted to pick her up and carry her away forever. He wanted…he wanted her. He wanted to shout “I love you” and see her run across the room into his arms.
Instead, he cleared his throat and watched everyone turn to look his way. “Hello, hello Joe, Merry Christmas, come sit down, how have you been, what’s new?” They all spoke at once, except Emily.
She straightened up slowly, dropping her arm, and he saw the little booklet flutter to the floor. Her cheeks flushed a bright pink and she reached up to finger the weird necklace she wore. “Oh,” she was all she said.
They stood staring across the room at each other for several seconds until Joe cleared his throat again and said, “Merry Christmas, everybody,” in a voice not quite his own. “I guess I’ll…” He couldn’t think of anything to say. “I’ll go hang up my coat,” he finally said and went back around the corner to the hall.
Take it easy, take it easy, he told himself. First, just try to figure out what that reaction meant. What was she thinking? Was she glad to see him or horrified that he’d actually turned up? Hell, maybe she’d actually forgotten their conversation last month and wondered why he was back, hanging around her family again.
Thinking that he’d taken about as long as he could to hang up a coat, Joe turned and walked quickly past the living room entrance without looking at anyone, saying “Guess I’d better go say hello to Ellie.”
In the kitchen, Mrs. Elmore gave him a motherly embrace, told him he was too skinny and went back to arranging some kind of relish tray. Dottie turned from poking at something in the oven and gave him the once-over. “I disagree, Ellie, I think he looks quite well. Come over and give me a hug, too.”
After a quick embrace, she looked at him again. “Ellie tells me you’ve moved back into the old homestead to fix it up, and frankly I think you’re out of your mind. It’s a terrible white elephant, horrible kitchen, told your parents so when they bought it. But tell me how the makeover goes anyway. Maybe you can make it livable, at least.”
Joe smiled and told her he wasn’t sure, quite a ways to go yet. It had taken some time, but he finally understood why he always enjoyed Dottie so much – she was one of the only people who didn’t treat him with kid gloves. The woman didn’t have a single sentimental bone in her body.
Ellie looked up. “Joe, why don’t you go out and sit down with the others before my sister can discourage you even more?”
“Will do,” he said, trying to sound cheerful. He didn’t feel quite ready to face Emily again, but he also knew he couldn’t lurk around the kitchen, hiding from her. Helping himself to a beer, he went out to the living room and sat on the sofa with Abby and Emma. He glanced over at Emily and saw her look away as soon as their eyes met.
Mr. Elmore made a little conversation now and then, but the room was mostly quiet, the TV volume low. Emma had fallen asleep and Abby re-settled her on the sofa, then stood. Motioning to her husband, she pointed upstairs, said “Baby,” and left the room. After a few minutes, Aaron got up too, stretched, and said to Emily, “I’m taking a break. I wish you the best of luck.”
Joe continued to stare fixedly at the television without absorbing a thing – he didn’t want to look over and see Emily avoid his eyes again. A commercial came on; Mr. Elmore stirred a bit and said, “Well, time for a little fresh air before I fall asleep myself. Come on, George, I’ll take you for a walk and maybe we can lose the bow somewhere along the way.”
The dog perked up immediately at the word “walk” and was on his feet instantly. “Hey, D
ad, I haven’t seen Flash once since I’ve been home. She hiding upstairs someplace?” asked Emily.
Her father was shrugging into his coat. “Ask Joe, he’s the cat burglar,” he said, chortling at his own joke. “Be right back.”
Now the room seemed absurdly quiet, despite the droning TV and the crackling, popping fire. Joe leaned over and took a cookie from a picked-over platter on the coffee table, then held it in his hand as if uncertain what do with it. “Uh, while I was still staying here, after you went back to Boston, Flash kind of, um, adopted me,” he said, eyes on the cookie. “Your mom told me to take her home so I wouldn’t be all alone. I hope you don’t mind.”
He finally looked up and found her watching him with a very sweet expression on her face. “Oh, no,” she said softly. “That’s wonderful. I think you’re the first person that cat’s ever really liked. I hope I can see her when—”
She stopped mid-sentence, but there was only one way to finish that thought, right? She must have been about to say “when I come over.” So, if that was how she was thinking… His heart began to thump. “Emily, I—”
She interrupted him, looking away again. “I didn’t mean I would, uh, intrude or anything. Maybe you don’t want…”
Enough. This was now officially ridiculous. He tossed the cookie back on the plate, got up, crossed the room quickly and sank down beside her on the floor. Taking her hand, he said, “I don’t care if somebody comes in, I don’t care if everybody comes in, look at me.”
Very slowly, she turned her head and looked into his eyes, but didn’t speak. “Emily, I can’t tell how you feel, tell me. Tell me you’re glad I’m here.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered. “You’re all I’ve thought about for weeks.” She hesitated, then went on. “I’m just so surprised that you stayed in town and I don’t know, I thought maybe things had…changed.”
When he didn’t respond right away, her eyes flickered away and she said quietly, “It’s okay if you…I mean, if things…”
Hope Falls_Almost Merry Page 2
