Dashing Through the Snow (9 page)

As she approached her parents’ two-story
home, she prayed that he’d do them both a favor and not show up.
She jogged up the porch steps and opened the screen door and then
the main one cautiously. She heard voices in the back of the house
and after removing her coat and hanging it on a wooden coat rack
and kicking off her boots, followed the sounds through to the
kitchen.

Her mother and one of her aunts looked to be
in a lively discussion while they prepared things for the dining
room. “Hi, Mom, Aunt Viv,” Lily said as she strolled in.

“Hi, sweetheart!” her mother said and opened
her arms.

Lily playfully rolled her eyes but walked
into her mother’s arms, bending down to accommodate Glenda
Carstairs’ five feet five inch frame. At five ten in her stocking
feet, Lily towered over her mother. She kissed Glenda’s cheek and
snuggled her nose into her neck, loving the familiar intermingling
scents of vanilla and White Linen. “Dinner smells wonderful,” she
said and unable to resist, bent and kissed her mother’s other cheek
when she released her.

“It should,” her aunt said as she too opened
her arms for a hug. “Your mother has been slaving over it since she
got home from church. Hi, sweetie,” she said to Lily when Lily
hugged her. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Lily said and went to the sink to
wash her hands. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nothing,” Glenda said with a smile.
“Everything is all ready. The dining room table’s even been
set.”

“Okay,” Lily said and turned from drying her
hands. She found herself studying her mother and her aunt. They
were both small and slim with thick hair. Her mother kept hers
closely cropped while her aunt had hers in a sleek bob. Lily had
gotten everything but her height and skin tone from her mother. Her
mother was just a shade darker, but Lily had the same light eyes
and a frame that tended to run to skinny. Her mother and her aunt
could almost pass for twins, they looked so much alike.

“Are you staying for dinner, Aunt Viv?”

“Yes. I invited myself.”

“What about Uncle Ray and Quincy and Ray,
Jr.?”

Viv sniffed. “What about them?”

Lily cleared her throat. “Uh…I thought…well,
as far as I know, you’re the only one at your house that
cooks.”

Viv waved her hand. “They’ll be fine. They
might not know how to cook, but they all three know that the most
important buttons on the microwave are ‘time’ and ‘start’. And
besides, I made meatloaf and mashed potatoes for them.”

Glenda laughed. “Notice the emphasis on ‘for
them.’ She asked me in church today what I was cooking and when I
told her, she decided that she was in the mood for lamb. I told her
that there was plenty enough for all of them, but she insisted on
coming alone.”

“Humph. Like I told your mother, there’s no
sense in having a perfectly good meal ruined by some ruthless,
greedy pigs. I deserve at least one meal a week in peace and quiet.
They’ll be fine with meatloaf.”

Lily chuckled as her mother shook her head.
Her cousins’ table manners weren’t
that
bad, but she did
admit to herself that she was glad they weren’t coming. She didn’t
think she’d be able to withstand the never ending bickering they
always seemed so willing to indulge in.

“And speaking of church, Ms. Thing,” her
mother said as she pointed a finger at Lily. “Why didn’t I see you
there today?”

Lily grimaced. “Didn’t I tell you? Sue was in
town, but only for a few hours, so we went downtown and to Town
Square before she got back on the road.”

“And that’s another thing. I would have liked
to have seen Sue. Why didn’t you bring her by?”

“She was only in for a few hours, Mom. She
told me to tell you that she promises to come see you and Dad on
her next visit.”

Glenda looked far from satisfied with that
answer, and her next words confirmed it. “What I don’t understand
is why you didn’t bring her to the church. Everyone can use a
little religion on Sundays.”

“Like I said, Mom,” Lily said, as she snagged
a wine glass from the tray her mother was preparing, and walked
over to the sideboard in the dining room where she’d seen a bottle
of Bordeaux left open to breathe. “She was only here for a few
hours.” After pouring herself a glass, she walked back into the
kitchen and around the table to lean back against the counter.
Looking down at the wine as she swirled it in the glass, she said,
“When a person has a limited amount of time on her hands, the last
thing she wants to do is spend it in church. I know I wouldn’t -- ”
she suddenly stopped talking. The kitchen had gone unnaturally
quiet.

She looked up from her wine and found both
her mother and her aunt looking at her with horrified eyes in the
still quiet. Unfortunately for Lily, she was not the first to find
her voice.

“Pardon?” Glenda asked in a soft tone that
didn’t fool Lily one bit.

Lily bristled. “Come on, Mom, you know what I
mean,” she said, and knowing she was in for it, took a huge gulp of
wine. “We hadn’t seen each other in months and we wanted to talk
and catch up. We could hardly have done that in church while
sitting there listening to Reverend Carpenter pontifi – uh, preach,
I mean,
preach
,” she said hurriedly when she saw her
mother’s and her aunt’s mouths fall open, ready to read her the
riot act.

“Lily Elise Carstairs! I raised you better
than that.”

“Where’s, Dad?” Lily asked, blatantly trying
to avoid the conversation. “I want to see Dad.”

Glenda chuckled. “Oh, no you don’t. This is
important, and I want you to listen to me. You can’t go running to
your father to save you like you did when you were a little
girl.”

Lily frowned and pursed her lips. “Can too,”
she mumbled into her glass with a pout.

“Hi, y’all. How’s everybody doing
tonight?”

Everyone turned to see Smith standing at the
entrance to the kitchen. Lily’s eyes narrowed in thought for a
moment. Smiling, she walked toward him. “Hello, Smith. You enjoy
church today?”

Smith looked confused – first by the smile
and then even more so by the question, she was sure. “Church? Huh?
Actually, I didn’t make it to church this morning. I --”

“Um hmm,” Lily murmured as she came abreast
of him. “Tell it to the judge, cowboy,” she whispered and handed
him her wine. “You’ll need this more than I.” In a louder voice,
she said, “I’m going to find Dad for dinner, Mom. Be back in a
tick.”

She didn’t bother to look back.
“
Just
when
was the last time you stepped inside a church, Smith
Cameron?
”
Glenda demanded sternly. Lily smirked and kept
walking.

“Hi, Daddy.” Lily had walked up the stairs to
find her father in the den. He was sitting in an easy chair and
reading what she was sure was the Sunday paper.

He looked up from the paper with a smile.
“Baby girl!”

Lily resisted rolling her eyes at the
nickname. At one point in her life, the entire family had called
her that. At the age of ten, however, she demanded that they stop,
explaining that the name made her feel like a baby. Everyone had
complied, except for her dad. He’d refused to stop using the name.
Explaining patiently to him why she didn’t like the nickname
several more times didn’t deter him, nor did ignoring him when he
called her by it. That last action, in fact, had gotten her a sore
behind. Lily had eventually given up the fight, realizing that she
was no match for her father’s stubbornness. “No, there’s no need to
get up,” she told him as she walked over.

“No need?” Peter Carstairs demanded as he
stood. “The day I don’t stand up when a lady walks into the room is
the day they tell me I can no longer stand. Now give your old man a
hug. Hi, honey,” he said into her hair once he’d pulled her into
his arms. “How is every little thing?”

Lily returned his hug and stood on her toes
to kiss his cheek. Taking his hands in hers, she stepped back. At
fifty-five, her father was still lean and handsome. His hairline
had started to recede and he now wore thicker reading glasses, but
none of that took away from his attractiveness. “Every little thing
is just fine, Dad,” she said with a grin. He’d been asking her that
since she was two and could hold a conversation. “How are you?”

He smiled hugely again and pulled her into
his arms again, this time for a bear hug. “Just wonderful,
especially now that you’re here. It’s so
good
to see you,
baby girl!”

Lily laughed when she felt her feet leave the
ground. “You just saw me last week, Dad. Will you put me down,
please?”

“No matter, no matter,” he said as he
squeezed her one last time before he released her. “Last week or
last year; whenever we see you, it’s a good thing.”

Lily felt tears fill her eyes as she looked
at the bottomless well of love and gratitude in her father’s eyes.
Oftentimes in her life, she’d look up and see one or both of her
parents staring at her in just that way. It was very seldom when
she didn’t feel the weight of those stares and sometimes that she’d
never be able to live up to them. As a pre-teen she’d learned that
her parents had miscarried twice before she was born and she’d
begun to understand their love -- and their fear -- for her.

“Thanks, Dad. It’s good to see you too --
usually,” she modified with a cheeky grin.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” He
gestured for her to sit down before taking his own seat again.

Lily sat down across from him. “You know what
it means. I don’t want any lectures about my career or my lack of a
committed relationship, or anything else. I just want to enjoy a
good meal with my parents.
Capiche
?”

He only snorted and sat back in his chair.
“Tell me about Santa Claus. Have they caught him?”

Lily frowned; surprised no one in her family
had mentioned her run-in with the jolly thug that day. Perhaps no
one who knew her had seen her chasing him that morning. Whatever
the reason, she was glad she’d get to tell the story, at least
there’d be no embellishments. “No, Dad, considering that he came at
me again this morning, I doubt he’s been caught,” she began and
settled in to tell him the rest.

***

All right,” Lily said hours later as she put
on her coat, “later, dudes. It’s been real.” She’d already hugged
her parents and aunt and was ready to go. She’d enjoyed the food,
but for the first hour of the evening, all her parents and aunt had
talked about were the pitfalls of her career. And Smith? He’d just
sat there with a stupid smirk on his face. “I have an early start
tomorrow, so I’ll be seeing you.”

“Wait, Lily!” her mother called from the
dining room. Glenda bustled into the room with a shopping bag. “I
packed some leftovers for you.”

“Leftovers?” Lily asked in surprise. “I
thought we’d pretty much decimated everything tonight, and I know
Dad called dibs on whatever was left. I heard him. He said it
before we even started eating.”

“Not leftovers from tonight, but from the
week. There’s some roasted chicken from yesterday -- it’ll make
lovely sandwiches -- and some lasagna from Thursday.”

“Oh, yum. Lovely sandwiches. Thanks, Mom. I
love ya, you know.”

Glenda laughed as she accepted her kiss. “You
love my cooking, is what you love.”

“Yeah, but you’re a close second.
Honest.”

“Humph. How did such a mean mouth ever get
matched with such a lovely face, I wonder?” Glenda teased as she
took Lily’s chin in her hand. “Now you wait just a minute. There’s
enough food in that bag for Smith, who’s going to walk you back to
your grandmother’s. Uh–uh,” she cautioned when saw that Lily was
going to object. “It’s either that or your father will have to take
the time to put on all of his winter gear and leave the warmth of
hearth and home and go out into the arctic night. He’ll let the
cold settle into his rickety old bones – all so he can drive you
home a few blocks. And I know a nice girl such as yourself wouldn’t
want her daddy’s pneumonia on her conscience, when she could
prevent such tragedy just by accepting a gracious offer of
assistance from a gentleman.”

Lily looked blank for a moment, and then:
“Guilt trip number five thousand six hundred and seventy-eight. And
you say you don’t have any talents,” she teased. “Shame on you,”
she chided and then shook her head before her mother could say
anything else. “Fine, fine. Let’s go, Smith,” she called towards
the back of the house.

“Over here, princess,” Smith said mockingly
from behind her.

She turned. He stood in front of the door and
when he saw that he had her attention, he dramatically swept the
door open and with a bow and smile, said, “After you, milady.”

Lily curled her lip, stuck her chin up a
notch and marched past him.

Chapter Nine

Christmas, 1989

“
Smith, help! Ooh, it hurts!
Please!”

At the sound of Lily’s panicked voice, Smith
dropped his SCUBA gear and started running toward the other end of
the beach. As he got closer and heard her wails – which were
getting progressively louder – he wished he’d gone with his first
instinct and made her go back to bed earlier when he found her
trailing behind him as he sneaked out of the beach house.

“
Shit,” he muttered. “And all I wanted was
to try out my SCUBA.”

He found Lily sitting in the sand with her
hands wrapped around her right knee so that her foot was lifted
from the ground. Tears ran rapidly down her face. “What’s the
matter?” he asked.

“
A j-jellyfish stung me. It hurts. It
hurts so much!”

The panic ballooned larger in his chest and
Smith took a deep breath. “Where, Lily? Where did it sting you?” he
asked urgently.

“
On my foot.”