Five Sisters (55 page)

Luckily, no one had been around to watch the accident, so Sara quickly kneeled down upon the floor and began to pick up all the scattered books and set them back up in their little pile. As she worked, she, once again, began to read through their titles, though this time most were unfamiliar to her. Their names carried no significance and neither did their authors, so she began to work faster and tried her best not to linger on these mysterious new novels. But just as she set the last book in its place on top, she let her eye drift to its cover and instantly she was frozen in her place.

"Sara!"
came
Mary's voice as she rounded the corner. She found her sister on her knees with a book in her hands, "We really ought to be going. It's nearly three o'clock, you know."

"Right," Sara whispered, still staring at the book, "Right."

She began to run her finger over the title, slowly.
Great Expectations
.
Tears were forming in her eyes now and she bit her lip. Charles Dickens was Charlie Wilkie's favorite author. He'd always said it was ridiculous that Sara had only read
Oliver Twist
and
A Christmas Carol
. "You really ought to read
A Tale of Two Cities
," he'd said, "And, of course, my personal favorite-
Great Expectations.
" Sara had promised him she would and now here it was before her. She had to buy it. It wasn't a choice, it was a necessity.
For Charlie.

She'd been trying to forget him ever since they'd first arrived at the Lindsey's home but it was impossible. His name raced to her thoughts at every spare moment she had and these moments were abundant in a calm, country town like Brighton. She only wished she'd hear from him- a telegram, a letter, anything. He'd promised they could stay friends if she liked. If only he'd write to her, as he said he would. "
Know that I do not wish to damage your spirits or your heart,"
he'd written,
"and that I am sure you shall find a more suitable man in time."
But how could she be expected to find a man more "suitable" than Charlie? It was impossible, for
he
was, in essence, the most suitable man for her. She was sure she'd never find a man more worthy of her heart than Charlie.

"Sara, come on," Mary said, tapping her sister on the shoulder, "We'll be late!"

With a somber nod, Sara rose from the floor. As they headed up front she dropped a few coins onto the front desk, far more than she ought to have paid. And as Mary ran out the door and into the winter flurries, Sara followed with the book still at hand. She carried it inside her coat to protect its leather binding from the snow; its pages pressed again her heart.

Christmas day at the Lindsey house was as happy as they come.

Gail awoke first, as she always did, at the crack of dawn. She raced barefoot across the hardwood floors to the window of the room she shared with Nora and gazed out the window. Although she shouldn't have doubted it, for Brighton has been covered in snow for nearly two weeks straight, a grin spread across her face as she watched the little white snowflakes drift downwards, flurrying back and forth with the wind and landing effortlessly upon the ground and the trees and the hills.

With a yelp of glee, she dashed across the room and bounced upon her sister's bed exclaiming, "It's Christmas, Nora! Get up! Get up!"

Nora rolled over and covered her head with her pillow, groaning; she'd never wake so early on her own accord, even on Christmas. Nevertheless, it was terribly difficult to fall back asleep with Gail still flouncing around like a child. So she pushed the pillow away from her mouth, though only a few inches, and murmured, her voice muffled, "Not yet,
Gaily
. It can't even be five o'clock yet."

"It's five thirty!" Gail assured, pulling at Nora's blankets.

"Too early, too early," Nora whispered.

"But it's Christmas!"

"You can't open any presents until everyone's up and I'm certain that John and Mary and Sara won't be up until eight o'clock, at the earliest.
Probably nine.
Just go back to sleep and . . ."

"Humph!" Gail frowned, hopping off the bed, "You're no fun in the mornings, you know. You'd have to be absolutely crazy to sit in bed while there are stockings and gifts and cookies all waiting just down the stairs!"

But apparently there were a lot of crazy people living in the house, for as she ran around to each of the upstairs rooms and told each occupant that they ought to get up now, she was denied by every one. Even Emy, who would usually join her, being the second youngest girl in the family, said she was really very tired and, though sorry, would not be joining Gail.

So the poor girl, horribly disgusted with her family's lack of holiday spirit at five thirty in the morning, headed downstairs alone. But her sadness didn't last long.

She raced to the guest bedroom, her flimsy white nightdress dusting the floor, and jumped onto Nathaniel's bed with her knees bent beneath her. Her hair was a mess of knotted red hair and pieces of black cloth, for she'd allowed Mary to convince her that she ought to curl her hair for Christmas day. So she'd sat on a kitchen chair the night before with Mary behind her, pulling at her hair and twisting it around the bits of cloth.

Gail tugged at Nathaniel's arm and said joyfully, "It's Christmas, Nathaniel! You have to get up!"

Wearily, he cracked open an eye, stared at her for a moment, closed the eye, and whispered sleepily, "What in the world have you done to your hair?"

"In a few hours it'll look lovely, just you wait and see. Mary's going to comb it out and I'll have a head full of beautiful curls once she's through."

"Seems rather silly to do all that for a few curls."

"Well you're a
boy,
you're supposed to say that. Now get up! It's Christmas, if you haven't forgotten."

"What do you want me to do? I'm not getting dressed yet and I'm not going to take the effort to get in that wheelchair if no one else is up yet."

"But Nathaniel . . ."

"Wake me up when everyone else is downstairs."

And with that, Nathaniel rolled over with a yawn and tried to go back to sleep.

Gail was angry for a moment and considered pulling off his blankets and literally
forcing
him to get up, but she realized if she did he'd only complain and she'd still have no one to laugh with on this Christmas morning. She watched him sleep for a few minutes, so peaceful and silent. It was rare to catch him in such a moment. Unless he was ill, Nathaniel was scarcely ever peaceful or silent.

She scooted forward on her bottom to lie beside him, her head nestled into that cozy place between his back, neck, and the pillow. And before she knew it, she was asleep as well.

*****

Gradually, different members of the house headed downstairs. Still wearing their pajamas and rubbing their eyes, they collapsed onto the sofas until finally, at around nine o'clock, Ethan and his parents, the five sisters, and Nathaniel were gathered in the parlor (Brook, it should be said, had left the afternoon before for his parents' house). Betsy, waddling around in her long, pink robe, rushed to get everyone a glass of tea or coffee and started up breakfast, placing the eggs and bacon on the stove and preparing some black pudding. Her silvery hair was piled atop her head and for once, she insisted that no one be allowed in the kitchen but herself.

John, wearing his silly red nightcap, sat beside Sara on the chaise while Ethan, Mary, and Nora took up the sofa. Emy was curled up on the armchair, Nathaniel sat on the floor with his back against the fireplace, and Gail was rolling herself around the room in his wheelchair, beaming.

In the corner of the room, just beside Emy's winged armchair, was the Christmas tree, a towering evergreen with thick branches of long, green needles. The heavenly scent of pine sifted through the air, joining the smell of the lovely breakfast Betsy was still preparing. The strings of popcorn Gail had made joined cranberries and golden beads to encircle the tree, glass blown ornaments and sparkling spheres adorned the boughs, and upon nearly fifteen different branches there were waxy red candles alit with yellow-orange flames. But for the final touch, nearly gracing the ceiling, a bronze-colored star embedded with intricate designs sat upon the top.

Beside Nathaniel, a large fire had been formed in the fireplace and the logs cackled with laughter. Ashes and embers drifted off from the flames, but they were never able to pass through the rusty metal shielding protecting the house from catching fire. As it continued to grow and its heat radiated through the room, chilly toes were warmed and chattering teeth were calmed.

As Betsy carried in more food, Gail rolled over to the fireplace and began to pull the stockings from the mantle. Ethan's was by far the most handsome, with delicate embroidery by Betsy's own hand, while the girls' were simple and red. And poor Nathaniel's gave everyone a laugh for it was nothing but an old, heather gray sock.

Gail threw each stocking to its owner and all sorts of goodies were revealed: chocolate bonbons, mint candies, pretty hairpins and ribbons for the women, and more knickknacks for the men.

This led to the gift opening. Within ten minutes, the floor was covered in brown paper, ribbons, and cards and all one could hear was the ripping of paper, the crackling of the flames, and the shouts of appreciation and felicity.

Mary adored her new hat from Ethan and Sara beamed with delight upon opening a box of books from John. Nora and Emy's faces lit up in pure joy as they received pretty new fabric to make dresses with from Betsy and Gail danced around the room in a lovely scarf from Mary. And of course, we shan't forget our invalid. This was the first Christmas he could ever remember enjoying and he certainly made the most of it. A smile never left his face all morning and he couldn't say thank you enough for all the wonderful games he was given: checkers and cards, backgammon and dominos, chess and cribbage.

Once the room was a mess and all the gifts had been opened, Betsy rushed back to the kitchen to return only a moment later with a stack of plates and a tray of food. Whilst talking and laughing and trying out their new presents, they filled their stomachs with eggs and bacon and black pudding.

Ethan, Nora, Gail, and Nathaniel joined in the center of the floor for a game of cards while Betsy and Mary cleared the plates and John, Sara, and Emy gathered up all the ripped paper and ribbons and threw them into the fire.

The day continued in a similar fashion. Once everyone was dressed in their best, another game of cards was started on the floor of the parlor and this time everyone joined in but Betsy and Mary, who insisted the house be spotless when Brook and his parents arrived. They scurried around the house with their aprons on, sweeping the floors, scrubbing the windows, and dusting the furniture so that by late afternoon it was sparkling in perfection.

Brook soon arrived with his parents: Mrs. Lindsey, who was so like her sister-in-law they could be blood relatives, and his father, John's brother, a tall man who looked rather like Brook with his pale skin and dark hair.

They adored Emy, who sat at the piano playing a melody so she wouldn't have to talk to them and embarrass herself. Brook instantly went to sit beside her and it was more than obvious to all that he was smitten with her. When Emy gave her gift to Brook she was blushing nervously, but when she received his art set she couldn't help but smile and through her arms around him in delight. Of course, realizing her sisters were watching her, she pulled back quickly with red cheeks and Brook chuckled.