THE CHURCH WAS PACKED ON CHRISTMAS MORNING. JUST ABOUT every seat in the sanctuary was taken when the Bates family arrived. They found a few spots in a rear pew, and Lucy tried to collect her thoughts. It was going to be a full day. After the service she would cook dinner for her family and her mother. The Tulleys were coming over later for dessert and coffee. There would be more socializing and more presents to open, too.
Reverend Ben had started his sermon. Lucy hadn’t been paying much attention. He was talking about the joy of giving, how that was the real gift of Christmas. “The way we find ourselves taking such pleasure in bringing happiness to others, with a gift specially chosen for each of them, with a card or a visit. Or even a fruit cake…okay, maybe not a fruit cake,” he added, making everyone laugh.
“On a scientific note, there have been studies of something called ‘do-gooders’ high. Scientists have confirmed that when we help someone else or do a good deed, it actually changes our brain chemistry. It sets off certain chemicals that make us feel good, happy, and worthwhile. It boosts our self-esteem.” He hesitated, then added, “I understand you can get the same effect from eating a bowl of ice cream, though you’ll have to worry about working off those extra calories.”
Lucy smiled. Reverend Ben had a way of communicating his spiritual messages in everyday terms. She always got something useful out of his sermons.
“I don’t think we need a scientific study to tell us that it makes you feel good to do something nice for someone else, that it’s truly better to give than to receive. We experience it most acutely on Christmas morning, watching the people we love open the gifts we’ve chosen for them. The trick is, to make it last all year long. To start giving outside the Christmas box. There are so many ways for us to give to each other throughout the year—to visit a friend, or take time to call a parent or some senior who might be shut in and lonely. To lend a helping hand to a neighbor, or even a stranger through some community project.
“We read in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter twenty-five, verse forty: ‘Verily, I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.’ That is at the spirit, at the very heart of our faith.
“Let the spirit of this day carry you forward, with a giving heart throughout the year to come.”
Lucy knew what Reverend Ben said was true. Maybe that was why she had wanted to be a nurse in the first place, why it had mattered so much to her. That feeling of helping made her feel good. It made her feel she was making a useful contribution to the world.
She would have to find something else now that made her feel that way. She wished she could shake off the heavy weight she had been carrying around inside, just for today. But she felt it deep inside, like a stone lodged where her heart should be.
She stood up when the chorus did and started to sing a Christmas carol she knew by heart. Somehow, she promised herself, she would get through the day.
SARA HOPED THAT HAVING EVERYONE OVER THIS AFTERNOON AFTER church wouldn’t be too much for Lillian. But without the visitors, her grandmother wouldn’t have much of a holiday.
That morning, before church, Sara had set the table and gotten everything ready for the Christmas brunch. She had worried that Lillian wouldn’t have anyone with her during the service and wondered if she should stay home.
“I can manage on my own for an hour,” Lillian had scoffed. “I’m not going to spontaneously combust.”
Luke started laughing. “Stay away from the stove and the microwave, just in case, Lillian.”
When the service ended, Sara and Luke rushed out of church, and drove back to Providence Street. Sara found Lillian in the living room, just where she had left her. She was wearing a new sweater, a light blue shade that suited her white hair and blue eyes. She had somehow managed to put on her pearl earrings and some lipstick. She looked better than she had in weeks.
“So, where is everyone?” she snapped. “Let’s get this over with. I hope you removed all the breakables from the end tables in the living room, Sara. Those boys are like a wrecking crew. I hope they don’t knock that tree over.”
Sara translated this to mean that Lillian was actually looking forward to her company.
Before Sara and Luke could assure her there would be no such disasters, the front door opened and everyone arrived at once.
“Wipe your feet, everyone!” Lillian shouted from the living room. “Sara, make sure they wipe their feet! They should all take their shoes off. All that mud and salt from the sidewalk is going to ruin the carpets.”
Dr. Elliot came in first, looking dapper as usual in a gray tweed sports coat, dark blue wool vest, and striped shirt underneath. His red bow tie was imprinted with tiny Christmas trees, Sara noticed. He kissed her lightly on the cheek and handed her a gift-wrapped box, then did the same to Lillian.
“Merry Christmas, Lillian,” he greeted her jovially.
She seemed surprised by the show of affection. “Merry Christmas to you, Ezra,” she echoed, her eyes wide.
“Oh, excuse me. I thought you were sitting under the mistletoe. I see now that’s only pine garland. My eyesight must be going on me.”
He glanced at Sara and winked, making her smother a laugh.
Jessica and Emily suddenly appeared, walking into the house in stocking feet.
“Oh, my goodness. Isn’t that tree gorgeous? Sara, this is all just wonderful,” Jessica crooned.
“And look what she did around the mantel. Isn’t that perfect?” Emily said, drawing her sister’s attention to the far side of the room.
Carrying platters of food and boxes of cakes and cookies, the two sisters made their way into the kitchen and dining room. Dan and Sam followed with their children, baby bags, shopping bags of gifts, and some large, new toys that looked very noisy.
“Lillian’s going to hate those toys,” Sara whispered to Luke as the kids ran into the living room to check out the tree.
Luke shrugged and crunched down on a gingerbread cookie.
“What can you do, babe? That’s why they call it Christmas.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cape Light, December 31, Present-day
LUCY WAS RELIEVED WHEN CHRISTMAS WAS OVER AND she didn’t have to pretend anymore that she felt happy. She took down the decorations at the diner the day after, even though Charlie liked to keep them up until New Year’s Day.
The week between Christmas and New Year’s was always quiet at the Clam Box. Lucy hardly knew what to do with herself. She had grown accustomed to catching up on her schoolwork at the diner during the downtime, with textbooks stashed beneath the counter or spread out at a booth in the back. Now she didn’t have any studying to do. She wondered if she should take up knitting.
She sat at the counter, paging through The Cape Light Messenger, the town’s local newspaper.
Charlie came in from his daily run to the bank, kicking snow from his boots.
She looked up at him. “Quiet here today.”
“It’s school vacation. People go away. Maybe we should take a few days off, take the kids skiing or something.”
He had been trying to cheer her up lately, though he never said she should return to school. She knew what his attitude was about that: it was all for the best that she dropped out. Soon she would shake it off and get back to their old routine.
“We don’t ski,” she reminded him.
“We could try it. C.J. went on a school trip last winter, he loved it.”
“He wants to go snowboarding, that’s different.” Lucy looked back at the newspaper. “Listen, since it’s so dead in here, I’m going to leave a little early. I have to run over to the mall and return a few things.”
“Oh? What do you need to return?” She could tell from the tone in his voice, his antennae were up. She folded the newspaper and set it aside, deciding to deal with this head-on.
“I appreciate that diamond heart you gave me, Charlie. I really do. But I want to bring it back. Do you have t
he receipt?”
Charlie’s expression grew serious, his jaw set. “Don’t bring it back, Lucy. I know you love it.”
“Yes, I do. That’s not the problem. It was much too expensive. We can’t afford to spend so much on extras right now. You know that.”
He shrugged. “What the heck. I just wanted you to have something nice, something to cheer you up.”
“I know that. And I’m touched by your thoughtfulness, Charlie, how you went out of your way like that to please me. That’s the best part of the present. You can’t buy that in any store and I’ll have it forever. The rest is not that important, and you know what I’m saying is true about the money.”
He nodded slowly, then stepped up to the stool she sat on and put his arms around her. “Lucy, you’re a gem. That’s all I have to say.”
“Oh, stop.” She shook her head and tried to pull away, feeling embarrassed.
“No, no. Come on now. I’m not done…. I just want to see you back to your old self again. I know I complained a lot when you started working at the hospital. But I’m starting to think maybe I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about it. That didn’t help things any, did it?”
Lucy sighed. “No, it didn’t,” she said honestly. “But it wasn’t that. It wasn’t anything you did. I’m not cut out to be a nurse. You were right. And I was wrong.”
“Oh, Lucy, I hate to hear you talk like that. What are you listening to me for? You never did before. When was I ever right about anything?”
Tucker and Charlie had a favorite joke they liked to tell. They called it their Zen husband joke. If a man says something in the forest, and his wife isn’t there to hear him…is he still wrong?
They cracked up with laughter at it every time, though Lucy could never see what was so funny.
“You have to be right about something once in a while, Charlie. It’s only statistical probability.”
She slipped off the stool and out of his reach. It was good of him to encourage her. Lucy was surprised and touched by his concern. But she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
SARA WORKED AT THE NEWSPAPER THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. IT was quiet and slow, nothing newsworthy happening in town or anywhere else in the area. She wound up leaving the office early and went back to Lillian’s where the daytime nurse, Jeanette, met her at the door.
“How was Lillian today?” Sara asked as she hung up her coat.
“Tired, but I think having a Christmas party here lifted her spirits.” Jeanette slipped her coat on and grabbed her handbag and canvas tote. “She’s resting now. You ought to wake her soon, or she won’t sleep well tonight.”
Sara thanked the nurse and said good night. She walked back to Lillian’s room and slipped inside. The lamp on the night table was on, but her grandmother was sound asleep. Sara noticed her secret box was sitting open on the bed, letters and photographs scattered on the quilt. Lillian stirred and Sara thought she would crush everything if she rolled over. She didn’t like to touch Lillian’s private belongings without permission, but this seemed an emergency. The old photos looked fragile as dried autumn leaves.
Sara scooped up the photos and sheets of yellow-edged paper and put them back in the box. She couldn’t help glancing at the handwritten pages, wondering what they were and why they meant so much to her grandmother.
She picked up the top page. It was dated December 31, 1955. New Year’s Eve, Sara thought. Her eyes skimmed the thin, curling handwriting. It looked like a diary entry—Lillian’s diary? Some pages that had survived?
Sara sat in the chair by the table and began to read the words her grandmother had thought so important to preserve:
…It’s a lot to get used to, living with the Warwicks. They are so very different from my family. It’s almost like visiting a foreign country, with strange customs that I don’t understand. I’m still not accustomed to the idea that I am actually married to Oliver and will live here forever. Well, quite possibly.
My parents still hang up when I call and haven’t answered my letters. I don’t know what to do. Oliver says maybe we should visit them. But I’m afraid. I couldn’t stand another scene like the time he came to call. It would be even worse, I’m sure. I know I’ve hurt them, but they’ve hurt me as well. Is it so wrong to have fallen in love with Oliver? I don’t understand why they punish me this way…
Cape Light, December 31, 1955
OLIVER HAD JOKED THAT HIS FAMILY THOUGHT SHE WAS TOO GOOD for him. Lillian had to admit that hadn’t been much of an exaggeration. They had accepted her gladly, laughed off the elopement as typical of their impulsive son, and then gone on to plan a huge party to celebrate the wedding and introduce Lillian to local society.
The preparations for the party were a whirl. Oliver’s mother, Alice, was in her element, Lillian thought, and Oliver’s father seemed content to see his wife engaged in a project that made her happy, no matter the expense.
Alice insisted that they travel down to New York to buy gowns for the party. They visited Saks Fifth Avenue and Bergdorf Goodman then took a break at the Plaza Hotel.
“I always go to the Palm Court when I’m in town. It’s so pleasant.” Alice sipped a cup of tea. A tiered silver cake stand filled with finger sandwiches and delicate pastries had been set between them. A woman in a long golden gown played the harp, accompanied by a tuxedoed violinist.
Lillian’s family had taken her on weekends to New York. Although the Merchants could well afford tea at the Plaza, Lillian had never been here before. She sometimes wondered if Oliver and his family weren’t too open-handed. Her family considered their money a burden, a grave responsibility, as if they were standing guard over a vault, protecting it for someone else.
“I want to buy your trousseau, Lillian,” Alice was saying. “You’ll need a new wardrobe for the cruise.” Oliver had surprised Lillian with a trip to Europe for their honeymoon, an extended cruise that would stop in England, France, Spain, and Italy.
“It’s a mother’s role, really,” Alice continued, “but I would be honored if you would allow me to do this for you.”
“That’s too generous, Alice. I have plenty of clothes.” Lillian had secretly packed a trunk right before her elopement and shipped all her best things to Cape Light. She really did need some new clothes for the trip but felt awkward having Alice buy them for her.
“It’s not about the clothes, dear. You dress beautifully, but you’re a married woman now. You want to dress in a different way than a career girl. You’re starting out a new life, and so everything should be new. Now please don’t argue with me. I know you’ve given up enough to marry Oliver. Let me do something nice for you.”
Lillian had given up a great deal, though she had never mentioned it to Alice—or to any of the Warwicks, including Oliver. She knew she wouldn’t be able to continue in her job at the museum and would probably never start her doctorate. The greatest loss though, by far, was her family. When she had called to say that she and Oliver were married, her mother sobbed into the phone and then her father yelled at her and slammed down the receiver.
She had tried calling again and again. Each time, they hung up as soon as they heard her voice. Finally, she stopped calling and sent a long letter, begging for their forgiveness and understanding—and inviting them to come to the party that was planned for New Year’s Eve.
So far, except for a hurried call from dear Beth, she hadn’t heard a word from them. Lillian missed her sister most of all; she wasn’t sure when she would get to see Beth again.
Charlotte’s parents had also been appalled at the marriage, and though her cousin lived only a few miles from her now, Lillian had not yet managed to see her.
Charlotte had begun dating Peter Granger during the summer, and Lillian expected that her cousin would be engaged soon. It hurt to know that she would miss that special time with Charlotte, the engagement and planning her wedding. They had promised each other they would be in each other’s bridal parties. Now she wondered if she would even see
Charlotte get married.
As the day of the New Year’s Eve party approached, Lillian waited for a call, a letter, or a telegram. But there was no word from her family.
Workmen swarmed over the great house all week long and by the day of the party, Lilac Hall was beautifully transformed with garlands and exotic flowers and fantastic decorations constructed of yards and yards of gossamer-like tulle. Every room was decorated and lit with thousands of candles. Pink and red petals were strewn about, as if it had rained down roses.
Elegant cars, one after the next, pulled up to the door, and white-gloved servants escorted the guests inside the great hall, the women dripping with furs and jewels, the men in tuxedos.
Lillian wore a silver lamé dress with a heart-shaped neckline. Her hair was upswept, as usual, but arranged in a looser style, with a bit more curl, and Alice had insisted on giving her a pair of long diamond and sapphire earrings to wear.
Lillian’s hand trembled as she put on the earrings, moments before the party was to begin. She was about to be presented to all of the Warwicks’ family and friends and all of Harry’s business associates. Oliver swore she was a knockout, that he would be the envy of every man in the room, but she was having trouble taking comfort in that.
“Ready, Mrs. Warwick?” Oliver stood behind her as she took one last glance in the long, oval mirror in their bedroom.
“I suppose. I can’t get used to this dress. I usually don’t wear anything this…revealing.” She twisted and checked her rear view again.
“Don’t worry. You’ve got the perfect figure to reveal, dear.” Oliver stepped up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. “You seem so nervous, Lily.”
“I suppose I am. I’m not comfortable with strangers. I’m not very good at meeting new people.”
A Christmas to Remember Page 23
