Memory Tree (25 page)

As they journeyed downward to the living room and the first Christmas they had spent together in years, the scene before him made Brian realize he would have to wait a bit longer to uncover the real story behind the Secret Santa gifts. This moment was all about Janey, and she attacked her presents with zeal. Too many gifts from Brian, that's what Didi said, but she wasn't being judgmental, and besides, how could you not be drawn in by the sheer exuberance on Janey's face when the gift wrap was peeled away and revealed its secret. Clothes for her, clothes for her dolls, a tea set from Didi, and a laptop from Kevin, which Brian proclaimed was excessive.

“Nonsense, a studious girl like Janey needs the latest technology. You do have WiFi?”

“What about Brian? What did you get him?” Janey suddenly asked, looking up from her pile of spoils.

Kevin and Didi exchanged looks and said, “I guess it's time.”

“Time for what?” Janey asked.

“I think we have to put on our boots and mittens,” Brian said. “To the windmill we go.”

Wonder crossed Janey's eyes as she pieced together the evidence. She dashed to the hall closet and immediately tossed on her coat and readied herself for a wintery trek down the hill, all while urging the three of them to hurry up. It was just a few more minutes, Kevin delaying the moment with a quick phone call. What was that about? Brian wondered. Then the four of them—as well as Janey's purple frog—stepped out into the frosty morning as a cold breeze swept across the backyard. Their feet crunched on frozen snow as the windmill's sails rose over the crest of the hill, like it was pulling them closer, and at last they were standing before the door to the windmill, the sails passing just overhead. On the walk down, Janey had explained how the past two Christmases they had opened gifts inside the windmill, and Didi said, “I suppose we'll be doing the same this year.”

“It's a tradition!” Janey exclaimed.

Up the winding, iron staircase they went, Didi and Kevin settling on a small sofa in the corner while Janey eagerly accompanied Brian to the closet door. One by one he withdrew the four colorfully wrapped gifts, untouched from when they had first arrived, and set them on the floor. From his pocket he withdrew the red collar he'd received last night.

“What's that?” Janey asked.

“It was in the fifth box, which arrived sometime last night.”

“Why did you open it?”

“Because the card said I could,” he explained. “Now I suppose it's time to finally find out what's inside these, since today is Christmas Day. What do you say, Janey, do you want to take the first one?”

“Sure, I love opening up presents,” she said.

“Before you do,” Didi said, “would you look at the gifts, all together?”

Brian did so, wondering what his mother was getting at. One was red, and another was blue, with green and gold completing the holiday rainbow. The sunlight gleamed through the window, making each of them sparkle like Christmas ornaments . . .

“The name ornaments—they're the same colors.”

“You mean, all of these gifts are from the two of you? But . . . why?” Janey asked.

“Because we wanted to bring some fun with us for the holidays, give Brian something to look forward to,” Kevin said. “The wrapping was the clue.”

Janey scrunched up her nose and said, “How did you know Brian wouldn't open them?”

“Yeah, how come?” Brian asked.

“Because we're your parents, Brian, and we know you are a man of honor. Even as a child you wouldn't sneak peeks at what we bought; you were always so patient. Go ahead, open them, please.”

Janey took the red one, saying it was because her name ornament was red too, and when she pulled the flaps back, what she pulled out confused her. It was a round metal bowl. Another one was found beneath.

“Huh?”

“Keep going,” Kevin said.

Brian took the blue gift for the same reason, and he quickly displayed a leash. Janey took the green one, and she discovered a book about dog training and a calendar for the next year all about dogs, and that's when her eyes began to widen with delight, her knees bouncing off the floor. She told Brian to hurry, and so he did, completing the gift opening by holding out a collar not unlike the one that had been inside the box from last night, but this one was shiny, new, and all it lacked was a dog to wear it.

They didn't have to wait long.

A barking sound could be heard coming from outside, and Janey got up and rushed to the window.

“Brian, look!”

He was right behind her, and what he saw was an eager young puppy, black with a spot of white on its chest, and it was flopping around in the snow. In the distance he could see a familiar car at the side of the road, where stood Gerta, Nora, and Travis. Janey wasted no time in running down the stairs and jumping out of the windmill with a squeal of having seen an old friend, and Brian had a feeling that's what they would be in no time. Brian watched as the puppy went running up to her and jumped up and Janey giggled and fell to the snow, allowing their new pet to lick her face.

As he watched, he was unaware that his parents had joined them outside, not until he felt his mother's arm in his. “That,” she said, “is what we've done. He's been staying with Gerta the past couple of days, and I believe Travis was rather reluctant to give him up.”

“It's why we were late to the tavern party; we'd just picked him up.”

Brian didn't know what to say, so he just watched.

He had to admit it was a pretty amazing picture, and the ensuing scene only got better, as Janey got up from the ground and seemingly took to the wind, running around the field, laughing, dashing, darting, the dog following her every move, barking with delight, the two of them fast friends, who no doubt would be as inseparable as Christmas was from miracles.

 

 

“Okay, you've had all day to think of a name,” he said.

“Mark and Sara had nine months,” she said.

It was bedtime, and while the arrangement had been for Didi to tuck her in tonight, on this night when Christmas would shut its twinkling eyes for another year, Janey had requested that all of them join her in her room.
All
meaning Kevin, Didi, Brian, and a black Labrador retriever whom she had played with all day and who now rested on the edge of the bed, clearly exhausted. On the walls of her room, portraits of Annie and Dan Sullivan stared back, almost as if they too had received a special invitation. On her bed was her ubiquitous frog, looking a bit long in the tooth. Why not? Didn't he turn ten years old today?

“First I want to say thank you again. I can't believe it . . . Brian . . . Dad, wow, we have a dog.”

“There's a lot of responsibility that comes with owning one,” he said.

“Owning? We don't own him, Brian, he's . . . one of us, part of us.”

“Family,” Didi said.

“Just like all of you; you're my family.” She paused and said, “So if the puppy is going to have a name, then so is my frog, finally, and trust me, he needs one after going all these years without one. I can imagine what that's like because, well, for the longest time I struggled over how to refer to . . . you, and you.”

Kevin and Didi nodded with understanding. Brian realized he should have handled this a while ago and not have had Janey for the past two weeks awkwardly fumbling with their names or just clearing her throat when she wanted their attention, and now he was feeling guilty that it was a child who'd had to broach the subject. In the end, he supposed it was okay. Children had a way of filtering out the plain truth.

“I never had any grandparents, so I've never really had to say the words,” Janey said. “And it took me so long to call Brian . . . Dad, and sometimes even today I slip up. So, if he's my dad and you're both his parents, do I get to call you Grandma, or maybe Grand?”

“Well, I don't see how Grand works; there's two of us,” Kevin said. “Why not Grandma and Grandpa? I'd like that.”

“As would I,” Didi said.

Brian watched as Janey considered this quick solution, finally nodding her approval. “Wow, my family got really bigger today, and now that we have that settled. . . let's see about the dog's name. All day I've been torn between two names, and it's only now that I've decided. I liked both names, so I figured whichever one the dog doesn't get . . . the frog will.”

“That sounds like a very smart plan,” Didi said.

“Janey, are you sure you don't want to talk about this first, you know, just us?”

“Dad, don't be silly,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Although he usually is.”

Kevin and Didi laughed at their son's expense.

“Okay, let's have it. I don't want to be calling out over the backyard ‘dog.' ”

“His name is Sully,” Janey said, “and the frog's name is Dunc.”

“Sully?”

“Dunc?”

“Yeah, as in Sullivan and Duncan, our last names. The frog is joining our family, so he becomes Dunc. And Sully . . . well, he has to know of his other family, and so when he's running around the windmill Mama will know it's okay to share things with him too.”

Didi leaned down and kissed the top of Janey's head. “You're a very wise young lady.”

“Perfect names, indeed,” Kevin added.

“Wow, two pets, a dad, and grandparents, all together,” she said, “and we'll be a family for as long as we can. Because I know once Christmas is over, Grandma and Grandpa have to go back home.”

“Janey, we can worry about that when the time comes,” Brian said.

“Not so fast, the both of you,” Kevin said. “You don't get rid of us that easily. Christmas is over, there's the door?”

Brian spun around, his father's words surprising him. “What do you mean?”

“Your mother and I were saving one last Christmas surprise for you, Brian,” he said. “I was wondering, perhaps you might need help down at your tavern. After all, if we're going to be neighbors, I'm sure there are nights you'll need off to help this little lady.”

“And on nights you have to work, a woman's influence will do her good,” Didi added.

Brian was thinking he should have gotten new ears for Christmas, because the old ones weren't working. “I'm sorry, did you say neighbors?”

“Yes, who do you think bought the Knights' farmhouse?”

It wasn't words that ended their day of holiday magic, because Brian could find no more, and as his parents left the room with a chuckle and the promise of more details later, Janey closed her eyes and with a sleeping Sully warming her feet and Dunc in her arms, Brian had the chance to concentrate on the sails of the windmill as seen through Janey's window, their endless rotations not unlike the passage of time. Brian realized that in the land of the windmill, there were fresh memories to be made and indeed, many things to look forward to.

 

 

“That, my sweet and beautiful Janey, will have to wait,” Annie Sullivan said, her voice an echo, as though the wind were taking her far from home and everything she loved, to lands distant and unknown, a place that remembered the past and gleaned the future. Her willowy shadow was no more, and Janey could have sworn it was just the wind that spoke her mama's
's
final breath.