Christine scrubbed hard as she considered ways to find things out and how she might get her grandmother to open up and talk about her daughter. She paused as she rinsed out the mop. When had she quit thinking of that old woman in there as “Mrs. Daniels” and begun considering her a grandmother? Perhaps it had to do with seeing the photo of Lenore. Or maybe Christine was actually becoming fond of the cranky old woman. Whatever it was, she decided not to think about it too much. She poured out the dirty mop water and turned to see the tile floor gleaming as a result of her energetic scrub down. Perhaps this would help cleanse her conscience a bit too.
It was almost five now and the time when she usually set out her grandmother’s dinner and then said good-night and headed back to her dorm. But since she was taking Mrs. Daniels to the birthday party, she was unsure as to what she should do. After her mopping spree, she suddenly felt as if she really should run back to her dorm and change before the party, but then she wasn’t sure what time they needed to leave, or even how far away the house was. Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner?
“What are you doing in there?” Mrs. Daniels called from the dining room.
Christine poked her head out of the swinging doors. “I just finished some mopping. Don’t come in here though, the floor’s still damp, you might slip.” She put the mop and bucket back in the laundry room closet and went back to check on her grandmother.
“Mopping?” the old woman said as she sat up straight in her chair.
“It looked like it needed it.”
“I suppose it did.”
“Do you want me to fix you a bite to eat before I leave?”
“Leave?” she looked alarmed. “Where are you going?”
“I thought maybe I could run back to my dorm and change before it’s time to go.”
“But we should be leaving for the party in about twenty minutes, and I need you to help me change.”
“Well, do you want me to fix you something to eat, then?”
“Didn’t I tell you it’s a dinner party?”
“A dinner party for a seven-year-old?”
“Well, they had the kiddy party this afternoon,” she explained. “They always invite their grown-up friends and relatives over in the evening for another party.” She laughed in that cynical way. “Ensures the kids get more gifts that way.”
“Oh.”
So Christine stayed and helped Mrs. Daniels get dressed in a pair of black knit pants and a burgundy velvet jacket. “You look really nice,” she told her when they were finally done.
Mrs. Daniels patted her hair. “Best I can do under the circumstances.” She frowned at Christine. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
Christine looked down at her gray sweatshirt and jeans. “Well, I thought maybe I’d have time to go home and change, but then the party was earlier than I thought . . .”
“Well, it just won’t do. Felicity is, shall we say, a bit of a snob.” She rolled her eyes. “She likes for people to dress and act right. Especially at her little parties. Now go in there and look in my closet. I’m sure my trousers would be too big for you, but see if you can find a different shirt to wear. Something that looks respectable. Choose whatever you like, I don’t care.”
Christine tried not to show her displeasure at this task. The last thing she wanted to do right now was to don some fuddy-duddy old lady shirt. But she felt bad that she hadn’t planned ahead better and decided that she should at least be cooperative. She hunted for a bit until she found a rust-colored turtleneck sweater that wasn’t too bad. She held it out to show Mrs. Daniels, who was waiting comfortably in the easy chair by the window.
“How about this?”
“That should look good on you. Will go nicely with your hair.”
Christine went back into the closet and slipped it on to discover it was quite soft and cozy. She emerged with a self-conscious smile. “It fits okay.”
“Better than it fits me, I suspect.” Mrs. Daniels pushed herself up from the chair and fumbled for her crutches. “In fact, you should just keep it. That color makes me look too sallow anyway. Something I don’t need at this stage of life.” She chuckled. “I will say this for you though. For a girl without money, you certainly have good taste.”
“Huh?” Christine was walking behind her down the hallway.
“Cashmere,” Mrs. Daniels said. “Imported from France.”
Suddenly Christine felt terrible. “Oh, I’m sorry. You should’ve told me. I can’t keep this, I’ll go – ”
“No. Like I said, the color does nothing for me. My late husband got that for me for Christmas one year when rust was all the rage.” “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Mrs. Daniels stopped by the large coat closet by the door. “And while we’re at it, there’s a coat in there that you might like to have too. As I recall it went nicely with the sweater. Go ahead and open it. It’s a suede jacket in a brownish gold tone that looks awful on me.”
Christine looked in the mostly empty coat closet, then spied a caramel-colored suede jacket behind a hooded rain parka. She pulled it out. “Is this it?”
“Yes. I’ve been meaning to give it away. Can’t stand how it makes me look. Go ahead, try it on.”
Christine slipped on the jacket. The suede was so smooth that it felt like butter. And she suspected by the luxurious satin lining and fancy label that it must’ve been very expensive. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s yours.” She looked at her watch. “We better go. Doesn’t do to keep Felicity waiting.”
Christine almost felt like a princess as she drove Mrs. Daniels’s Jaguar, dressed in the cashmere sweater and suede jacket. She wondered what Brianna, or even her dad, would think of her right now.
“That’s the housing development,” Mrs. Daniels said. “Aspen Grove.”
Christine didn’t say anything, but she was surprised. This didn’t seem like a very impressive neighborhood for the way her grandmother had described Felicity. It was nice, of course, and probably much more expensive than the neighborhood Christine had grown up in. But even in the night, with only the streetlights to illuminate, all the houses appeared to look alike, and they were so close together it seemed like neighbors could reach out their windows and hold hands. Of course, she didn’t mention this.
“You’re here,” said a tall man as he opened the door wider. “Come on in, Mom. Is that your caregiver with you?”
“Housekeeper,” Mrs. Daniels corrected him in a stern voice.
“Let me help you,” he said as he tried to usher her inside.
“No, you just stay back, Jimmy. I can do this better on my own.”
“Getting pretty feisty with those crutches, aren’t you?” He turned and winked at Christine. “She’s a handful, isn’t she?”
Christine wasn’t quite sure how to respond. So she stuck out her hand and said, “Hi, I’m Christine Bradley.” She stopped herself from saying, Lenore’s long lost daughter.
“Well, welcome to our humble abode, Christine. I’m Jimmy. I hear that you’ve already met my wife, Felicity, and – ”
“Who’s that?” asked a little boy peering out from behind his dad. He had curly red hair and was eyeing the large gift in Christine’s hands.
“This is Christine,” Jimmy said. “And this is the birthday boy, Jamie.”
She smiled. “Hello, Jamie. Happy birthday. Kind of a bummer having a birthday so close to Christmas, isn’t it?”
He grinned to reveal a missing tooth. “Yeah. Some people give you only one present and say that it’s for both.”
“Well, this is for you from your grandma,” Christine said as she handed him the large box.
His eyes grew wide. “Cool.”
Soon she met the other child, a little girl named Casey. And despite their grandmother’s less than favorable description, Christine thought they were sweet kids, even if they were fairly rambunctious. Casey had blond hair and blue eyes like her mother, while Jamie resembled his dad. And b
oth children insisted on showing Christine their rooms. Maybe it was because she was the closest to their age group, or maybe they just assumed she was the babysitter. As it turned out, she spent more time with the kids than the adults, which was perfectly fine with her.
She sat next to Casey at dinner. The other guests consisted of Felicity’s parents, Janet and George, and her newly married sister, Amber, and Amber’s husband, Rick.
“Do you go to college here?” Amber asked.
“Yes. I’m a junior,” Christine said.
“I graduated from here,” Amber said. Then, more proudly, “But Rick went to Stanford.”
“I went to school here too,” Jimmy said. “It’s a great place to go.”
“What was your major?” Christine asked, only because it seemed the conversation had come to a lull.
“Secondary education,” he said. “I’m a P.E. teacher at Edison High.”
“And a coach,” Felicity added.
“I’m majoring in education too,” Christine said. “Elementary ed.”
“Good grief,” Mrs. Daniels said with a frown. “You seemed like you were smarter than that to me. What’s wrong with these young people wanting to waste their lives being teachers?” She seemed to direct this comment to Felicity’s parents. “Don’t young people care about making a good living anymore?”
“Thanks a lot, Mom,” Jimmy said. “But don’t forget that my dad was in education and so were you.”
“Upper education,” Mrs. Daniels corrected him. “I was an English professor, and the head of my department before I retired. And don’t forget that your father had his doctorate. As did my first husband.”
“And I’m sure they’re terribly thankful about that now,” Jimmy teased.
Christine thought she saw her grandmother wince slightly at that.
“Sorry, Mom,” Jimmy said quickly. “I guess I’m just saying that everyone’s got to do what makes them happy. Life isn’t just about making money, you know.”
“My father’s a teacher too,” Christine said quickly, hoping to smooth over whatever had just transpired. “Actually, he retired from public school last spring. But he’s volunteer teaching down in Brazil right now.”
Fortunately, that took the conversation into a whole new realm as Felicity’s parents enthusiastically shared their latest trip to Mexico.
Soon dinner was over and it was time for the gifts to be opened. Naturally, all this attention for her older brother was upsetting to Casey, and before long she was in tears.
“It’s been a long day,” Felicity explained, “and she never got her nap.”
“Would you like me to help her get ready for bed?” Christine offered.
Felicity looked surprised then relieved. “Would you?”
“Sure, if she doesn’t mind.” She turned to look at the little girl’s tear-streaked face. “Would you like to show me your room again, Casey? And where you keep your jammies?”
Casey nodded, and Christine took her hand and walked her up the stairs to her bedroom. It didn’t take long before she was ready for bed, and although she looked pretty tired, Christine asked her if she’d like to hear a story.
“A book?” Casey’s eyes grew wide as if this were a special treat. “Yeah. Want me to read to you?”
She nodded and leaned back into her pillow, tugging a stuffed bunny closer to her. Christine took the bunny as a cue and picked out a rabbit story. Casey listened happily but was fast asleep before the story was half finished. Christine set the book down and pushed a stray blond curl off the little girl’s forehead. She knew this child was no relation to her, but she felt an inexplicable sense of kinship just now. Maybe it had to do with Christmastime or missing her father. Or maybe she was just longing for a family of her own, people who loved her and really belonged to her.
“How’d it go?” a male voice whispered from the hallway.
She looked up to see Jimmy with his son in his arms. “Good,” she told him. “Poor thing, she really was tired.”
“So’s the birthday boy.”
Christine smiled. “Do you want me to put him to bed too?”
Jimmy shook his head. “I got it covered. Thanks though.”
So Christine went back downstairs to where the adults had gathered in the small living room.
“We’re getting our Christmas tree tomorrow,” Felicity announced. “Jimmy doesn’t like getting it before Jamie’s birthday. But it always feels late with only a week left until Christmas. Most people have had their trees up for ages by now.”
“And you’re still planning on having everyone over for Christmas Eve?” Janet asked. “It’ll be quite a full house for you.”
Felicity sighed. “Well, you guys don’t have much space since you scaled down to the condo and motor home. And Amber and Rick’s apartment is pretty tiny. So I guess it’s up to me.”
“Is Jimmy’s aunt still planning to come?” Janet asked.
“What?” Mrs. Daniels looked somewhat shocked.
Christine studied her grandmother, curious as to why she would be upset by this news.
“Aunt Hattie,” Jimmy explained. “She wants to come visit during the holidays. She hasn’t seen the kids in a couple of years.”
Mrs. Daniels groaned. “My, how time flies.”
Christine noticed Felicity nudging Jimmy with her elbow. It was a small gesture and probably not noticed by anyone else. But the expression on Felicity’s face looked urgent.
Jimmy cleared his throat. “In fact . . . ,” he said, “we were wondering if you might be able to put the old girl up for a couple of days – ”
“What?” Mrs. Daniels demanded.
Jimmy smiled hopefully. “Otherwise she’ll have to sleep on the couch, and that’s not very comfortable. You have so much room, Mom. Surely you could let bygones be bygones this one time. You know, you ladies aren’t getting any younger. Besides that, it’s Christmas.”
“You honestly think Hattie would be willing to stay at my house?” Mrs. Daniels narrowed her eyes. “You know that the last time we spoke was at your father’s funeral.”
“People often say things they don’t mean during times of grief,” Janet offered, obviously trying to smooth things over.
“I suppose Jimmy has told you the Aunt Hattie story,” Mrs. Daniels said in a droll tone. “I suppose the whole town knows the Aunt Hattie story.”
Christine wanted to raise her hand and say, I don’t. But she wisely kept her peace, knowing it would look suspicious for Mrs. Daniels’s housekeeper to be curious about some estranged aunt. Just the same, she did wonder if this woman might be related to her.
“I told Felicity’s family only so they could be prepared for any fireworks between you two.” Jimmy smiled at Christine now. “You probably wonder what on earth we’re talking about, don’t you?”
She shrugged. “Oh, that’s all right.”
“Aunt Hattie is my dad’s sister. And she said some things to my stepmom at his funeral that Mom’s never forgiven her for.”
“That’s enough,” Mrs. Daniels snapped.
“Please, Mom,” Jimmy pleaded. “Couldn’t you consider having Aunt Hattie for a few days? I mean, she is Dad’s sister. Doesn’t she deserve a little respect for that?”
Mrs. Daniels rolled her eyes. “Fine. She can stay at my house. But she better not expect me to cater to her. I’m not exactly in tip-top form, you know.”
“But you have Christine,” Felicity said hopefully. “I’m sure she can do whatever it takes to help make Aunt Hattie feel welcome.”
“Of course,” Christine said. “That’s no problem at all.”
“Any other surprise visitors you’d like to spring on me?” Mrs. Daniels glared at Jimmy.
He laughed. “No, Mom, that’s it.”
“Now if I can just figure where we’ll put everyone for the Christmas party,” Felicity said. It seemed an obvious hint.
Janet frowned. “That’s too bad about your foot, Esther. Otherwise, you might want to ha
ve been able to host the gathering at your house.”
Christine glanced at Mrs. Daniels in time to see her bristle.
“Yes, it’s a shame. But as you can see, I have difficulty doing much of anything these days. A Christmas get-together would be completely out of the question.”
“That is, unless you wanted to put me to work,” Christine offered. She instantly wondered what on earth had prompted her to make such a bold offer. She saw her grandmother’s eyebrows lifting and knew she’d stepped way over the line this time. But after seeing how small Felicity and Jimmy’s house was, she could almost understand their dilemma. “It was just an idea,” she said quietly.
“It’s a great idea,” Felicity said with a bright smile. “And I would help with everything too.”
“Well, there you go,” Janet said with a twinkle in her eye. “Looks like you’re fresh out of excuses, Esther.”
Mrs. Daniels scowled at Christine, but then to everyone’s surprise she said, “Oh, I suppose I might as well give in. You’re all ganging up against me anyway. But don’t expect me to lift a finger.”
“Oh, you won’t have to, Mom,” Felicity gushed. “Christine and I will handle everything. Won’t we, Christine?”
Christine nodded, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. She hadn’t really intended to coerce the old woman into opening up her home for the holidays. She knew it could totally backfire on her. But perhaps it had simply been her subconscious mind at work, making sure that she was included in this odd family during the holidays. Of course, she had no idea if they would even want her around. It seemed more than likely that they would simply expect her to play the role of housekeeper and then make herself scarce. Well, whatever, she’d already stuck her foot in her mouth.
“I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into,” her grandmother said as they drove home.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Daniels,” she began. “It just slipped out. And if it makes you feel any better, I don’t want you to pay me for anything I do to get ready for Felicity’s party. I want it to be my gift.”
The Treasure of Christmas Page 19
