Cupid's Christmas (9 page)

“It is nice,” John answered. He reached across and gave her knee an affectionate pat.

They rode in silence for a few moments then Lindsay said, “I’m glad
she
didn’t come.”

“You mean Eleanor?”

Lindsay nodded.

“Eleanor was the one who suggested we go together. She even drove down to the stadium to pick up the tickets.”

Lindsay’s smile quickly turned to a scowl. “Does everything have to be about
her
?”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“Well I feel like she’s taking over our lives. Every word out of your mouth is about Eleanor. It’s Eleanor this, Eleanor that…why don’t you ever talk about Mom?”

“What can I say about your mom that I haven’t said a thousand times before?”

“So now what…you’re gonna forget about Mom? You’re gonna let this Eleanor person take Mom’s place, is that it?”

The muscle in John’s jaw hardened, “No that’s not it,” he said, “No one will ever take your mother’s place and Eleanor isn’t trying to—”

“Yes she is. You’re just too blind to see.”

“Listen to me Lindsay,” he said sharply, “Eleanor isn’t taking your mother’s place, but she is filling a spot in my life that was empty for over nine years. Nine years, Lindsay! Nine long miserable years!”

Lindsay opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

 “If heartache and tears could bring your mother back she’d be with us right now, because God knows I shed enough tears over her. I can’t change the past Lindsay, but I can do something about the future.”

“Yeah,
your
future,” Lindsay said.

“No, not just my future—our future. Eleanor’s going to be part of our family and if you give her half a chance—”

“That woman is not part of
my
family. To me she’s a stranger. Somebody I know nothing about. For all I know she could be an ax murderer or—”

“Eleanor and I have known each other since high school, in fact she knew your mom.”

“Oh, and then a few decades later she just crawls out of the woodwork looking to get married? How convenient.”

“Eleanor was married to someone for almost twenty years. He died of colon cancer.”

Lindsay could think of no comeback for that, so they rode in silence for the next five minutes. When they pulled into the stadium parking lot John switched off the ignition and turned to his daughter, “Why do you dislike Eleanor so much? She’s never done anything or said anything—”

“It’s always about her…it’s like you just forgot Mom…” Lindsay’s lip quivered and tears began rolling down her cheeks. “You care more for a stranger than you do…” She wanted to say me, but the word never came because it was held back by a sob.

John moved across the seat and pulled her into his arms. “Sweetheart,” he said, “no one is ever going to replace your mom. She was somebody very special—”

“If Eleanor isn’t replacing Mom, then why is she always at our house?”

“Lindsay you’re here now, but you won’t always be. One of these days you’ll meet someone special, get married and move away. When that happens, I don’t want you looking back and feeling guilty because I’m alone. With Eleanor by my side, you won’t have to.”

“So you’ll stick Mom’s memory in the closet and forget about everything that—”

“Your mother’s memory will be with me for as long as I live,” John said, “Even if I tried to forget Bethany, I couldn’t because you’re exactly like her.”

“I remind you of Mom?”

 “You certainly do,” John nodded. “You look like her, talk like her, and at times you even have a bit of her temper.”

“Mom had a temper?”

John smiled. “You could say that.”

When the crying subsided, he went on to say, “Lindsay, after I lost your mom, you can’t begin to imagine how alone I was. I didn’t have company and didn’t want company. Every night I’d come home from work, heat up a TV dinner and sit in front of the television until the wee hours of the morning, just because I couldn’t stand the thought of climbing into that half-empty bed. I lived that way for almost nine years. Then I ran into Eleanor—”

“If you were so lonely, why didn’t you ask me to come home?”

“I thought of it a thousand times. But as much as I wanted to have you home, I knew it would be wrong. You have your own life to live…”

“I would have—”

“I know you would have. And although that would have been better for me, it wouldn’t have been the best thing for you.” He slid his finger beneath her chin and tilted her face to his. “You’re my little girl and I’ve loved you since the day you were born, that will never change. After your mom died, I was miserable and alone but I loved you enough to let you live your own life—won’t you please do the same for me now?”

Lindsay said nothing. There was nothing more to say.

It was the bottom of the third when they entered the stadium. Two runs had just scored and Hunter Pence was at bat. When, after three balls and two strikes, Hunter hit one over the wall, the crowd went wild. As Hunter rounded the bases, everyone in the stadium jumped to their feet, yelling and cheering—everyone except Lindsay. She was deep in thought and paying little attention to the action.

On the way home Lindsay looked at her father and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Being so selfish.”

John looked across and smiled. “You’re not selfish, honey. Sometimes change is hard.”

“Yeah,” Lindsay stared out the window and watched as they drove past colorless buildings and an endless parade of billboards. When she caught sight of a billboard promising Fun, Fun, Fun at an Atlantic City casino she gave a long and sorrowful sigh. “I’m sorry if I’ve been tough on you, Dad—but it feels like I’m losing everything I care about,” she said. “First it was Phillip, then my job, then the apartment, and now you.”

“You’re not losing me—you couldn’t lose me if you tried. I’m your dad and I’ll always be your dad, that’s never going to change. And as for those other things, maybe the truth is, they weren’t worth having.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she echoed, but it wasn’t what she was thinking.

Lindsay was lost in thought when she heard the far off sound of a dog barking. “Did you hear that?” she asked.

John nodded, “Must be the radio.” He reached over and pushed the power button—music blared. He pushed it again and there was silence. “Not the radio,” he said, “…probably came from another car.”

Lindsay knew the barking hadn’t come from either the radio or another car, she recognized the high-pitched bark, she’d heard it a number of times before.

D
on’t be lulled into thinking all is well now that Lindsay’s apologized, it’s not. She’s a human with more ups and downs than a rollercoaster. Oh, her apology was genuine enough, but it’s unlikely she can stay with the thought. Jealousy, that’s the problem. Lindsay can’t admit it, because she doesn’t realize it. The issue here is not John’s loyalty to Bethany, it’s that Lindsay is feeling left out. She’s never going to come to terms with Eleanor, until she comes to terms with herself. For that to happen I’ve got to up the distraction factor, toss in some confidence and adjust a number of memories. This is way beyond my range of responsibility and if Life Management gets wind of what I’m doing, there will be hell to pay—and I do mean Hell!

D
uring the week before Labor Day, it seemed that Lindsay couldn’t turn around without coming face to face with Eleanor. She was everywhere—in the kitchen, in the living room, stretched out on the backyard chaise. It got so Lindsay began to fear that one morning she would wake to find Eleanor under her bed. Although she tried to avoid being in the same room, it was virtually impossible. Even when Eleanor was absent, reminders of her remained. Gardening magazines were scattered about, a half-finished needlepoint was left in the family room, a ring holder suddenly appeared on the kitchen window sill and on the bathroom counter there were three bottles of nail polish, in peachy-pink colors Bethany would never dream of wearing.

Although Lindsay did try, she simply could not bring herself to like Eleanor. It was all she could do to hold her tongue when the woman made some affectionate remark to her father. And Eleanor had a habit of calling him honey or sweetheart, at times she’d even use sweetie, which made every last nerve in Lindsay’s body twitch. Bethany had never gone to such extremes. She’d called him John, which was as it should be. Fortunately, after that first day, Eleanor did stick to calling Lindsay by her name.

On the Saturday before Labor Day, a huge bowl of potato salad appeared in the refrigerator. “What’s this for?” Lindsay asked as Eleanor was bustling around the kitchen.

“We’re having a family cookout for Labor Day,” Eleanor replied.

“Isn’t this a lot of potato salad for three people?”

“Oh, it’s not just us,” Eleanor smiled, “We’re having the whole family.”

“What whole family?”

“Your dad, you, me, my son Ray and his wife, Lorraine and Frank—”

“Aunt Lorraine?”

Eleanor nodded, “Uh-huh.”

“Aunt Lorraine is Mom’s sister.”

“Yes, I know,” Eleanor said nonchalantly. “Lorraine’s also a member of our Garden Club. We’ve known each other for years. John and I had dinner with her and Frank a few weeks ago and we went to this lovely little Italian restaurant…”

Lindsay couldn’t stop Eleanor from talking, but she could close her ears, which is what she did. She watched the woman’s mouth moving and nodded occasionally, but refused to listen to another word of the conversation. As soon as she could leave without being deliberately rude, she did so.

Her bedroom seemed to be the only place that offered an escape from Eleanor, so Lindsay spent much of her time in there. Sitting at the student desk where she’d once done homework, she sent e-mails to friends she hadn’t thought of in over a year, she browsed job listings and of course, searched every pet adoption site she could find. She knew the dog she wanted, she had the picture of it fixed in her mind, but she had not yet been able to find it. She even telephoned the Small Paws Adoption headquarters to ask about the dog.

“It’s not one of ours,” the woman said, “I don’t recall ever having such a dog.”

“It’s probably a Maltese or Bichon,” Lindsay explained, “Grayish-white, scraggly-looking, hair hanging in its eyes?”

“It’s definitely not one of ours,” the woman said, “We groom our dogs and do a complete health screen before they’re listed.”

Lindsay thanked the woman for her time, hung up the telephone and went back to searching the internet sites. “That dog is somewhere,” she mumbled and started to search again.

Labor Day dawned with bright sun and clear skies, Lindsay opened one eye and saw the crooked sunbeam cutting across the room. “Darn,” she grumbled. She’d been hoping for rain. Rain would mean Eleanor’s cookout would be canceled and Lindsay would be spared the agony of the family get together. She was none too anxious to meet Eleanor’s son, nor was she enthralled with seeing Aunt Lorraine who, as Eleanor’s friend, now seemed to be somewhat of a turncoat. Lindsay skipped breakfast and held off joining the party until her father hollered up the stairs saying she should get a move on.

When she stepped outside, Lindsay hardly recognized the backyard. On one side was what looked to be a new stainless steel grill twice the size of the one her father previously had, and the lawn was filled with a scattering of snack tables and lounge chairs. She strolled across to where her father was standing.

“Hey there sleepyhead,” he laughed then gave a nod to the man standing next to him and said, “Lindsay, this is Ray, Eleanor’s son.”

“Pleased,” The young man said and stuck his hand out. Although he said pleased, he looked to be nothing of the sort. He had the dour look of someone who wanted to be anywhere other than where he was. Lindsay understood the feeling.

Turning his body, John said, “And this is—”

“Shawnee High Cheerleading,” Lindsay said pointing a finger, “Traci Vogel, right?”

Traci’s face brightened. “Yes,” she answered, “but it’s not Vogel anymore, it’s Barrow.”

“You’re Eleanor’s daughter-in-law?”

Traci nodded.

Other than a few moments of polite conversation with Aunt Lorraine and Uncle Frank, Lindsay spend the remainder of the afternoon talking with Traci. Although they’d been two grades apart and never so much as passed each other in the hallway, Lindsay seemed to remember that Traci was the best of all the cheerleaders and certainly the most agile. Traci in turn recalled how Lindsay had been one of the most popular girls in school. Reminiscing about things that never were as they remembered, the two girls came to like one another.