Chistmas Ever After (21 page)

She accepted the fact that she could be a better person, and she would try to be
she would try her hardest. She also accepted that she’d been wrong about her parents and wrong about Lance’s career. Okay, she believed that she could improve. But she wasn’t ready to take the extraordinary leap of believing that she and this man, whom she’d just met, were in love and could somehow live happily ever after. No, she didn’t believe that! Despite Mrs. Wintergreen, the visions from the past and the many coincidences, she didn’t believe it. It was preposterous!

“Jennifer… what are you afraid of? Think back to when we first met—the first time we looked into each other’s eyes. Didn’t you know it then? Didn’t you know it when we were talking together, skating together? Didn’t you know we were in love and that we always will be? There’s nothing to be afraid of, Jennifer.”

She gave him a final troubled look, then walked away from him, toward the Hotel entrance. She heard him coming up from behind her, but she kept walking, purposely.

Alex seemed like a nice person, she had to admit that, and just looking at him aroused thoughts of love. They were definitely attracted to each other, but what did she know about raising a child? How could she ever compare herself to any woman, especially to a woman like Donna, who sounded like she had the confidence and innate ability to offer love and support?

“Jennifer… don’t be afraid.”

She couldn’t go through the heartache again. What if one day she found out that Alex had actually been in love with Valencia all along, and because of her money and connections, he and Jason would have been much better off with her. She would undoubtedly make a much better wife and mother than Jennifer ever could.

She walked faster, breath coming fast, and Alex followed. “Jennifer… don’t go!”

It was true that when she looked at Alex, she felt her heart open—felt a raw passion that she’d never felt before—felt her whole body open like a flower. But open to what? To the possibility of more pain and disappointment? It was so much easier to be alone! And yet, she had to admit that after meeting Alex, after holding Jason so tightly and warmly in her arms and feeling the beat of his heart against her chest, it would be difficult to be alone again. After all that, it would be so awful to be alone.

Alex seized her arm and turned her to face him. “Jennifer. Just say you want me to go away. Just say it, and I will. But before you do, think about what your future will be like if you walk away from us… from a life together with Jason and me.”

Jennifer looked at him, nearly frantic with indecision.

That’s when the full force of the truth struck her, with a terrible insight, shaking the foundation of her very soul. She stood stock-still, suddenly destroyed by the effort of suppressing an old truth that had never before found the light of recognition.

“Don’t be afraid of love, Jennifer. After all, you were in love once before. You’ve been in love.”

Her lips quivered. It took all her strength to speak. When she did, her voice was strained, filled with regret; her eyes dark and lifeless. “No, Alex. No… I wasn’t in love. I was never truly in love with Lance. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now.”

She stared into Alex’s searching eyes. “I held onto him because I was afraid.
 
Terrified to look at myself for what I was: hurt and lost. I held onto him, desperately, and he was miserable. I held onto him and squeezed the life out of him and killed him in so many ways. But I never really loved him. I didn’t really know what love is.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Please…leave me alone, Alex. I just need to be alone.”

She turned slowly and walked away, up the red-carpeted stairs of The Plaza Hotel and into the lobby. She felt a gush of tears as she moved through the swirl of bustling crowds toward the elevators. She held in her emotion as she ascended to her floor, exited the elevator and ran to her room.

Inside, she closed the door and stood for a moment in the pulsing silence. She strolled unsteadily over to the window that looked out over the city and stared, through melting tears. The night sky was brightened by the city lights, and she saw the hint of a quarter moon, swimming through dark purple clouds. How would she ever be able to forgive herself?

“I’m so sorry, Lance… so sorry…”

The tears came slowly at first, almost as repressed sounds of grief. Then her shoulders began to shake violently, as if in spasm, and she began to cry out in uncontrollable anguish. She fell to her knees and toppled forward, burying her face into the carpet. Waves of despair rose to the surface and burst out into agonizing sobs.

CHAPTER 16

Jennifer’s eyes opened slowly; they felt sticky and heavy. She saw a blur of color and form, like some bizarre modern painting of cubes, broad lines and indefinite shapes. She slipped into consciousness hesitantly, testing it, like one would dip a couple of toes into a pool of water to check the temperature.

She was lying on the bed, covered by half of a luxurious quilted comforter, her bare feet sticking out one end, her head nearly covered by the other. What day was it? How long had she been sleeping?

As she lifted up, wiping her eyes and blinking about her hotel room, her memory slowly returned. She leaned back against the headboard, taking quick inventory of her surroundings, thoughts and feelings.

Generous sunlight streamed in from the windows, throwing quivering planks and squares onto the floor and on the end of the bed. Birds sailed by, banked left, soared high, then shot away, as if released by happiness into the distant blue sky.

Her thoughts were quiet, as quiet as the room, where she heard the occasional taxi horn below and the distant drone of an airplane. Church bells drifted in from a remote place and brought a reverent peace.

Images from the previous day began passing through her mind, as it threw back fragments of conversations, pictures and reactions. She closed her eyes and took them in, witnessing, remembering, feeling.

The first thing she noticed, remarkably, was that she felt quiet inside. The war that had been active inside of her for so many years had ended. The guns of anger and remorse were silent. Contentment and joy, which she had imprisoned with a crust of bitterness, now rose up, released; and like butterflies, they scattered into the freedom of rolling fields and flowers. She saw herself rise up, run, leap and flutter above those fields—felt the sunlight stun the world with its beauty, felt the call of newborn life. From inside, she stretched and expanded into that world, into the sunlight, seeping into the mystery of life.

She opened her eyes, threw back the comforter and stood up. There was such a feeling of lightness to her body! And where was that throbbing fear? She was perplexed by the lack of it—fear of facing the day and the world—fear of failing and feeling foolish. Fear of not having enough or of having too much. Suddenly, amazingly, she didn’t care! It was so clear to her now that she had been tedious and irritating, like an old rusty gear on a bicycle that moved through the world grudgingly, scraping and squeaking.

She took a few steps forward, feeling as though she were taking brand new steps—steps that had never been taken before. Baby steps! That was okay. That was fine! She liked it. She felt young, girlish and as spirited as a puppy.

The time on her watch said 8:15. The date read December 25
^th
. Christmas Day! What would she do? What could she do? Anything! Absolutely anything she wanted! She was free to write the story of her life, anyway she wanted to, and she would do it with love, with generosity and with a playful sense of adventure.

In the shower, she pulled on a shower cap to preserve her hairdo, and let the warm water wash over her for 10 minutes while she sang, in a rather weak and shattering voice,
We Wish You a Merry Christmas
. She dried herself to a raucous version of
Jingle Bells
, and by the time she swung into her red terry cloth robe, she’d managed a fractured verse of
Joy to the World
.

In the closet, she reached for her burgundy dress and green silk scarf. As she dressed, she realized that she was ravenous. Visions of pancakes, sausages, eggs and hot coffee danced through her mind. She sat before the mirror and quickly applied makeup, doing her best to match Dale’s artistry. As she worked, she thought of Angela, then, getting an idea, she smiled.

She tied the green scarf with a flourish around her neck and finished off her ensemble by snipping the stem of a red rose and placing it behind her right ear. It was one of the twelve red roses that had been delivered to her room the previous evening. As she examined herself in the mirror, she acknowledged that she no longer needed the designer dress to make her feel poised and confident. As she stared, she realized that the dress, that wonderful dress, had provided a kind of training wheels, helping her gain balance and self-assurance, allowing her to feel and experience the potential of her true beauty. Her body felt so comfortable now, as though she’d just met a new friend.

But why? What had really happened? Joy fell all around her, like confetti. She had released the past and had fallen in love! She was head-over-heels in love, crazy and rash in love, from the very moment she saw him! Alex! And, Jason, how she longed to hold him again! She was in love with the entire world!

She pulled on her black boots, snatched her coat and darted out of the room, pulling three additional red roses from the glass vase. Out the door, she skipped down the hallway and into the elevator, whose doors were open and waiting for her.

In the lobby, the aroma, atmosphere and celebration of Christmas were everywhere, with white Christmas lights reflected in chandeliers, and the smell of pine provoking grins. Cheerful faces wished her a “Merry Christmas” and, for the first time that she could remember since childhood, she wished them back a “Merry Christmas” and sincerely meant it. Her body seemed to sizzle like a sparkler whenever she said it, so she said it often to everyone she passed on her way out the front rotating doors.

Outside, the world was ablaze with sunlight, glistening off freshly fallen snow. Everything was scintillating with color and promise. It was a day to be unwrapped, discovered and enjoyed. Dogs barked, children hopped and danced. Early morning crowds wandered the streets, strolled through Central Park, or sat perched in horse-drawn carriages, shading their eyes against the glare, looking at the snow-covered world in wonder.

Jennifer’s eventual goal was the hospital. She had to see Jason, find out where Alex was, and call him. She would tell him everything—explain it all—and he would believe her! He would understand!

But first, she had to make two stops. She descended the stairs and started toward Fifth Avenue. The air was crisp and still; the sidewalk had already been cleared of snow and sprinkled with salt. She scratched along until she came to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. She crossed Fifth Avenue and approached it quietly, reverently. There was a hush as she started up the stairs. Not even a car rolled by. The great doors were closed and no one stirred as she stepped forward. When she reached the top stair, she leaned over and gently placed one rose on the spot where she’d last seen Lance.

“Thank you, Lance,” Jennifer whispered. “I
will
let you go now. It’s time for us both to move on and discover what’s before us. I’ll never forget you, and I’ll always be grateful for what you did for me. God bless.”

She turned and didn’t look back as she descended the stairs and crossed the street, walking toward the majestic Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center.

The early crowd was sparse and quiet as they roamed the area, taking in the tree, the angels, and the colorful silk flags snapping in the wind. There were already ice skaters circling below, some with hands laced behind their backs, their red caps, green caps, like little domed candies stuck on their heads.

Jennifer walked to the spot where she’d met the Santa Claus, and she placed the second rose where he had allowed her to stand, to listen and to heal. A little girl, maybe 5 years old, bundled up in green and white, wobbled over, with questions in her deep blue eyes.

“What are you doing?” the little girl asked.

Her parents looked on from a short distance, noses and cheeks red from the cold. They, too, seemed curious.

Jennifer crouched down to the little girl’s level. “I’m leaving a little present for Santa Claus.”

The little girl was perplexed. She lifted her chubby hand and scratched her forehead. “Was he here?”

“Yes. He was here.”

“Did you tell him what you wanted for Christmas?”

“Well… he seemed to know what I wanted without my having to ask.”

“You must have been nice, then, or you would have got nothin’.”

Jennifer laughed. “Okay… You’ve got me there.”

The little girl turned around and ran back to her parents. Jennifer waved and started off toward the hospital.

She was nearly out of breath when she arrived at the hospital front desk. She signed in and hurried to the elevator. As it ascended to the 7th floor, Jennifer lifted the rose and smelled its sweetness, studied the elegant petals, a flower more perfect and attractive than any she’d ever seen before. The richness of color and the delicate satin-like texture were spellbinding. Jennifer looked up to watch the floor lights jump from 3 to 4 to 5 to 6 and finally to 7. Perhaps Alex would be there, playing with Jason, maybe dressing him in preparation for the big day. Her heart pounded with anticipation.