Merry's Christmas: A Love Story (9 page)

“Did you buy those to replace this?”
Merry asked. “I’ll pay for it.”

Joan brushed it off pleasantly. “No.
Don’t give it another thought. This is just from my apartment. I don’t do
anything but sleep there. And I figure this way, as long as we have something
to eat on, Daniel won’t run out and buy new, and it’ll give me a surprise to
put under the tree.”

“I’d be glad to shop for you, for your
grandkids. No charge,” Merry offered.

“Thanks, but I’ve been looking forward to
doing it myself,” Joan replied. “Part of the fun of being a grandma, spoiling
your grandkids. And this will be the first Christmas in three years I get to do
that.”

Merry thought about it. Joan was so easy
to be with, an integral part of the Bell family. It was no wonder that she had
remained such a welcomed and regular presence, long after Amanda’s passing. “I
can’t even imagine having a mom, let alone a grandmom.”

Joan stopped what she was doing. She
wandered over to the kitchen table to gaze at Merry’s project. “No family at
all?”

Merry shook her head. “Just my boy, Rudy.
My cat.”

Joan picked up one of Merry’s completed
broken china ornaments. She complimented Merry on the way she had chosen
interesting pieces, filed the sharp edges away, then fashioned wire, beads, and
ribbon to set them off in such a creative way. Joan held the ornament up to the
light. “Not a bad use for that old platter. Looks much better this way, if you
ask me.”

“You think?” Merry asked.

“I always hated that bodacious dish,”
Joan snickered. “Not like we ever used it. Left me completely cold. Way too
la-di-dah for my taste. Don’t tell Daniel.”

Merry breathed a reassured sigh.

“Form follows function,” Joan continued.
“That’s what they say in the art world. Doesn’t matter how elegant it looks if
it doesn’t suit your family, does it?”

Merry listened intently, picking up a
hint of subtext in Joan’s tone. Was Joan really saying what Merry thought she was?
Merry played along, testing to be sure. “So, when you’re shopping. For
him...for the dishes, I mean. You’re saying you might not get fancy china?”

Though Joan’s words remained casually
discreet, her undertone continued to speak volumes. “China is, well, it’s
lovely to look at, to show off at society functions. Don’t get me wrong; it has
its place. But it’s kind of fragile, high maintenance, not really built for
actual family living.”

Joan looked fully into Merry’s face. “I’m
thinking Daniel might be surprised at how much he’d like something more
comfortable, still very attractive in its own way—but less fussy, more
festive—like if I turned a handmade set at my pottery shop.”

Merry studied Joan quizzically,
surprisingly at ease. “Are we still talking about dishes?”

Joan smiled knowingly. “There’s more than
one kind of dish.”

Merry couldn’t help but press. “And
you’re saying...?”

Merry watched as Joan chose her words
carefully. It seemed that Joan wanted to be as clear as was appropriate,
without overstepping her maternal bounds.

“I’m saying,” Joan confided, “What’s
Christmas without a secret or two between the womenfolk?”

Merry climbed the Bell’s front stairs.
There had been a note on the refrigerator that Tara had stayed after school for
a student council function. Hayden had come straight home and wordlessly
disappeared into her room.

Of all the Bell family, Merry related to
Hayden the most. No matter where Merry had been as she’d bounced around the
system for abandoned children, then into her adulthood—even when she’d been
with other people—she’d always felt alone. Everyone else seemed to have found a
sense of belonging that Merry had never had. Something in Merry longed to
connect with Hayden. It was just that she had no idea how.

Merry peeked into the twins’ bedroom.
Hayden sat inside, clearly perplexed.

“Knock, knock,” Merry started.

Hayden barely looked up. “I don’t have a
list for you, if that’s what you want.”

“No, I just...” Merry took a step inside.
“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Because you look sort of—”

“I said I’m fine,” Hayden snapped. She
just sat there, sullenly staring into space.

Merry flushed. She kicked herself,
realizing she’d pressed too hard too soon. Clearly Hayden didn’t want her there
for some reason or another.
 
“Okay,
then. I’ll just... Bye.” It was beyond awkward, but Merry backed out. She
extracted herself the only way she could.

By the time Daniel pulled up to the
garage, the sun was going down, casting a golden glow on the backyard. Merry
waved cheerfully, and then went back to pruning holly boughs off of an
overgrown bush. Ollie waited nearby with a large, open basket, gathering the
trimmings.

Merry thought to herself how nice it was
that Daniel got home at night before she had to leave.
Bankers hours
,
she mused.

Daniel ambled over. He tousled Ollie’s
hair as he arrived, but he looked directly at Merry. He had kind eyes, she
observed. He had loosened his tie.

“You don’t have to do my yard work,”
Daniel began. “I have a man I pay.”

“Just getting some holly for the mantle—Ow!”
Pricked by a holly briar, Merry recoiled.

“There’s big stickers on that,” Ollie
informed.

“Yeah,” Merry agreed. “But it’ll be worth
it. Sometimes good stuff is that way, you know.” Merry put a last sprig into
Ollie’s basket. “Want to run this into the living room for me?”

Ollie took the basket and went inside.
Left alone with Daniel and suddenly unsure what exactly to say, Merry did what
she usually did when at a loss for words. She looked for a way to busy herself.
Loose holly clippings were scattered about, so she squatted to gather them.
Daniel leaned down to help.

“Go all right, today?” he asked.

“Mostly. I haven’t quite cracked Hayden’s
safe.”

Daniel looked surprised. “Hayden has a
safe?”

Merry smiled. “No, I’m just trying to
find a way in with her.”

Daniel nodded, getting it. “Well, of all
of us, she’s taken it the hardest. Or at least the longest.” Straightening up,
Daniel gestured to the holly bush nostalgically. “Amanda planted this bush, you
know. She nurtured it from a seedling.”

“Did she?” Merry asked, suddenly a little
concerned at having taken the cuttings from it.

“She did, and just for this purpose.”

Merry breathed a sigh of relief. “Good,
then. That gives her a special part in this Christmas. We’ll hang out the holly
for her.”

Daniel studied Merry intently. “How is it
that you seem to know these things?”

Merry pondered it. “I don’t know. Just
comes to me, like it can come to anybody, I guess. Okay, put that in here.”
Merry extended a paper bag and Daniel deposited his clippings.
 
“All right, you try.”

“Try what?”

“Try letting a thought come to you. Not
something you’ve thought about before. Something new. An idea.”

Daniel balked a little. “I’m not so good
at this. Maybe I’m too Type A, but...okay.” He waited an uncomfortable moment
or two. “Now, what am I supposed to do?”

“Look around for a minute. Don’t stress
about work or dinner or whatever. Just let something float into your head.”

Clearly outside his comfort zone, Daniel
still gave the notion a chance. He surveyed the yard thoughtfully, finally
settling back on Merry’s face.

“What do you see?” Merry asked.
“Anything?”

Daniel’s voice took on a softer,
contemplative tone. “Light. I see light...all around you.”

Merry took what he said to heart. From
the way he was looking at her, she wasn’t sure if his words were meant to be
taken literally, but she swiveled around to refer back to the yard just in
case. “I always liked the little white twinkle lights. Like stars, you know?”

Daniel nodded, turning his gaze to the
yard. “Yeah. Lights would be good.”

Over Daniel’s shoulder, Merry saw Tara
peer out at them through the blinds at the study window. Ollie appeared at her
side. Suddenly, the slats were shut tight.

Stifling amusement, Merry mustered her
courage. “Oh, I meant to tell you. I thought of a gift idea for Catherine.
Depending on how it works with whatever your...relationship is.”

Daniel mulled it over. “Yes, it’s... The
woman has virtually everything, so... What were you thinking?”

It was a fearsome plunge, but Merry took
it, her desire to know overtaking the fright over what his answer would be.
“There’s this formal Ball New Year’s Eve. It’s a big Children’s Hospital
benefit.”

Daniel shifted his weight and rubbed at
his jaw.
 
His expression was impossible
to read. “Good thought, and I could make a donation in her name, she’d like
that. But I don’t actually dance.”

“You didn’t even dance at your wedding?”
Merry probed.
 

Daniel smiled faintly. “That was the
first and last time. Amanda coaxed me into it and believe me, it wasn’t pretty.”

“Dancing’s not so hard. I taught myself,”
Merry said. “You’re good with numbers. You just count to three, that’s all.”

Daniel quickly waved the idea off. “No,
I—”

“Really. If that’s all that’s standing in
the way of you taking Catherine to that Ball, don’t worry, I’ll show you,”
Merry encouraged. “You can practice on your own, then try it out with me later
if you want.”

“I really don’t think—”

“Don’t think,” Merry said. “Just watch.
And listen to the music in your head. One hand on your partner’s waist, the
other takes her hand, just lightly. Then, it’s...” Merry closed her eyes,
imagining music. She extended her arm as if being held, and three-stepped in
time. “First with the left. One, two-three. Then back a little to the right,
two-three. Left, two-three...”

Daniel watched Merry as she turned, a
look of fascination on his face.

Suddenly self-conscious, Merry came to a
stop. “So, something to consider. That is, if it suits your...situation.”

Again, much to Merry’s chagrin, Daniel
remained enigmatic. “Yes, well—given the situation with Catherine...I may go
another way.”

Merry accepted it, sensing it was as far
as she should go. “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” She took her bag
of discards toward the garage, quietly encouraged.

Tara was already decorating the living
room mantle with holly and pine when Merry came back inside. Merry purposely
didn’t make anything of it, but she was quietly thrilled to see Tara taking an
initiative. She watched, impressed, when Tara picked up a spool of red ribbon,
pulled out a length of it, and looped it repeatedly to fashion an artful bow.
If it had been a step in the right direction when Ollie had join in, Tara
taking part seemed a quantum leap.

As respectfully as she could, Merry
placed family photos amongst the greenery they arranged on the mantle. She
picked up a photo of Amanda with the twins as grade-schoolers, dressed
identically. “So, you two used to dress to match.”

Tara shrugged pleasantly. “Kind of geeky,
but I liked it. I guess I’m more into the whole twin thing than Hayden is.”
Tara picked up a particularly striking photo of her father, and drew it to
Merry’s attention. “Isn’t this great of Dad?”

Just then, Hayden leaned in momentarily
from the kitchen. “Dinner,” she called.

Tara barked back, “Just a minute. Helping
here.”

Not wanting to get between the sisters,
Merry took the photo of Daniel. “I’ll get this. You go, eat. Really. It’s
fine.”

Tara set the bow down, and then headed
toward the kitchen.

Merry carefully placed the photo of
Daniel at the center of the mantle. She lingered over his image, nestling it
into the pine and holly boughs. It really was good of Daniel, she thought. All
of his photos were. His dark hair, bright smile, and shining eyes were
undeniably appealing. But mostly, she realized, it was the man himself who was
starting to make her heart flutter in ways it never had before. Merry checked
to make sure she was unobserved, then stroked the photo affectionately.

♥    ♥    ♥

In his pajamas,
Daniel turned off the bedside lamp. Moonlight spilled through the window as
Daniel stood there, deep in thought. The Charity Ball had been a reasonable
idea for Catherine, he supposed. She would enjoy the opportunity to dress up
and mingle with the upper echelon. Catherine was a sensation in those settings.
What’s more, she would be happy to write a generous check for the Children’s
Hospital.

Tentatively, Daniel began to practice the
three-step Merry had taught him.
One, two, three...one, two, three
, he
counted.

Passing by in the hall, Hayden watched
her father, wryly amused. “What are you doing?”

Daniel stopped abruptly, suddenly
embarrassed to realize his awkward attempt had been observed. “Nothing. Just
something Merry suggested. Clearly not my skill set.”