Plundered Christmas (5 page)

I had to admit, though, other than this marsh and the sharks by the dock, Banet Island seemed idyllic.

The wading beach, while much smaller than the dock area, had a shallow bay that extended nearly a quarter of a mile out to a sandbar. For relaxing and cooling off, it looked fun, but impossible for swimming. Margo said they'd installed a lap pool in the house since water exercise at the beach proved difficult. While the safe water occupied a large space, it never got more than three feet deep. Past the sandbar, though, the depths plummeted.

“A ship could dock just beyond the sandbar and its occupants walk ashore. In fact, that did happen on more than one occasion to avoid a battle. It was also the standard means of coming onto the island before the dock was built.”

Whatever they perceived as inadequacies in God's creation of this island, the Banets made certain to overcome. A dock, a lap pool, a great house filled with every comfort imaginable… I wondered what else was here that Margo hadn't told us about.

Not long after my wondering, Margo steered us past an area with dense brush. She didn't say anything about it, but talked more about the family. Her great-great-grandfather had actually smuggled arms to the American colonists in the Revolutionary War. While Margo regaled us about his exploits, I looked into the foliage, trying to see what might be there. Considering how much she showed off everything else, I couldn't help wonder why she ignored this particular spot.

In mid-tale about Captain James Banet running a blockade to provide arms to Washington (“for only a modest profit,” she insisted) her cellphone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and mumbled something under her breath. If I hadn't thought of her as lady, I would have sworn that she cursed.

“Forgive me,” she said quickly. “I have to take this.”

She practically ran from us. I truly wished I would be in as good a shape in my sixties.

Dad watched her exit with a combination of admiration and disappointment. “I don't think it will work, my dears. So much like your mother, though…”

“Dad?” I asked, wondering how much he felt like revealing.

He shook his head, and nodded to the kids. “Let's just enjoy Christmas in this beautiful place.”

 

****

 

Margo was obviously absent during dinner.

Dad joked with Justin and Josie, loved on them, and totally ignored the adult kids. There was definitely something going on that he didn't want to talk about.

After we finished eating, he offered to take us up to the tower/lighthouse. “I'll show you the sunset up there. It's absolutely amazing.” He looked at his watch. “We have to hurry. I checked this morning and sunset is at 6:37.”

We headed for the spiral staircase that went up both levels. “Since only a small section of the house has more than one story, they opted for the spiral staircase to take the least room and add the most impact,” Dad told us, as he indicated for us to go in front of him.

Maybe it took less space,
I thought,
but it also seemed to include steeper stairs
.

As we approached the first landing, I heard Margo's voice. She didn't sound happy. “… gave up your claim years ago.”

Then I heard a little bit of another voice, definitely female. “Truly? Would Mark have said that?”

Dad practically pushed us up the stair so I couldn't hear the rest. “The sunset won't wait!” he cried.

Truthfully, I don't think he wanted me to eavesdrop.

But when I reached the top, panting and wishing I still jogged as regularly as I used to, I had to admit that the view was worth it.

The encircling windows meant we could see the island, and the sun, from any angle. If you stood just right, you could even see the sun reflected in the sparkling glass when you had your back to it.

From here, the water looked incredibly close and the ground, vulnerable. How could this small island withstand the assaults from the sea? The dock, looking toward the sunset was on the southwest side of the island. To my surprise, the Banet yacht was not the only vessel tethered there. A much smaller boat with a yellow exterior bobbed on the other side of the dock.

I meant to ask Dad about it, as well as about Margo's argument, but at that moment, James came up behind me and put his arms around my waist. I leaned back into him and watched the sun sink.

I heard Dad building up the moment for Justin and Josie. He knew Justin well enough that “pretty” didn't motivate him.

Justin would take a five-second glance at the rays of the sun as it hit the water, say “nice” and then ask if he could pull out his hand-held game.

Dad explained the sunset in terms of a ‘crash' and ‘explosion'… ideas to which Justin could relate.

But I simply leaned into James and savored the shared moment. With the two kids, homeschooling, and his work schedule, we didn't get many times like this.

The sun seemed to float above the horizon. Then, as it reached the ocean, it expanded until it filled the darkening sky above and the water below with every shade of red and orange imaginable. The horizon looked aflame.

“Wow,” James whispered in my ear.

“I know,” I whispered back. “God makes some pretty beautiful scenery, doesn't he?”

James released me from his arms, stepped to my side and put a finger on my chin, looking into my eyes. “Yes, he does.”

I felt a blush creeping up. “You're not even looking at the sunset anymore.”

“It's more incredible when I see it reflected in your eyes, Neenie.”

What could I say to that? I kissed him.

“Mom! Dad!” groaned Justin. “Uck!”

James and I separated with a smile and held hands as we watched the rest of God's light show.

 

 

 

 

 

 

4

 

I woke up Christmas Eve in one of the many palatial bedrooms at the Banet manor. At first, I couldn't remember where I was or what day it was.

During our tour of the island, I had commented to Margo on the lack of Christmas decorations. I attributed the question to the kids (who had in fact, asked me) but I figured that would be less offensive to her than if I asked directly.

“We've always decorated and put up the tree on Christmas Eve. It will be fun having your kids help us this year.” She explained that since she didn't have any grandchildren it had been many years since anyone under eighteen had contributed to the decoration celebration. “I look forward to seeing their faces when the tree comes,” she said mysteriously.

So today, I would miss both the Christmas Eve church service and annual pageant back home in Gentle Springs. Instead, I would live an adventure.

Dad promised, too, that he would read from the gospel of Luke that evening, as he usually did. “After all the decorating has been completed, it will help us focus in on the reason for the season.”

At breakfast, I saw several people I didn't recognize. I wondered if Captain Blake and Charlie had been back to the mainland during the night or if the new arrivals had come on the strange yellow boat. One young woman was slender and fashionable. She moved and looked like Margo. Every stitch of clothing she had on looked like it came from one of the boutiques that Margo had said they would shop at on Black Friday.
Was she Margo's daughter? Had things worked between Margo and Dad—would she have been my step-sister?

The other woman, whom “Margo the second” appeared to know, I had no ideas about. She was older than I was, but younger than Margo. While she dressed well, her clothes did not have the “beyond expensive” feel to them. Lastly, I saw a young man. I guessed this was Margo's nephew William, the recreational fisherman-shark catcher, because she said he'd be coming for Christmas.

The women kept to themselves over breakfast.

The man, after seeing us sit down at the larger table, came over.

“You must be the Jensens; no that would be Aunt Margo's beau. Robert Jensen.” He pointed to the others. “That willowy and snooty thing over there is my cousin, Mary, Aunt Margo's daughter. The one with her is my darling mother, Anne Banet Jefferson.” The two women, hearing their names, nodded in our direction, but made no move to come over. “And I'm William. William Jefferson.” He gave a wry laugh. “I'm not from the titled side of the family.”

“I'm Robert's daughter, Jeanine, and that is my brother Frank Jensen.” I pointed to him so that William would know whom I was talking about. I beckoned to Frank and introduced William. The two shook hands, but Frank kept looking around. I assumed it was because Aimee hadn't come to breakfast yet.

William turned to James and extended a hand. “You must be...I apologize, but I can't remember your name,” he finally admitted to James.

“We're the Talbotts,” James said, introducing each of us by name.

“Justin!” William beamed. “Did you enjoy the games I picked out?”

“Well, I…” Justin began.

James interrupted. “He only opened one, and he did enjoy it.”

“Maybe you can enjoy the others on the way home then, Justin.” The guy sidled up to Justin like the two were best friends. “I hear the firepower in Metal Attack is amazing.”

Justin looked at him, then at his dad, not sure how to react to the two adults.

“We appreciate the care and thought you put into choosing a present for him, Mr. Jefferson,” James said before Justin had to figure it out.

“William, please. It was my pleasure.”

“Thank you, Mr. William,” Justin said. “It was fun to play a game while riding in a limousine. I can't wait to tell my friends on the soccer team all about it!”

That seemed to satisfy the young man, and he began to tell us about the family traditions we'd enjoy that day.

Just then, Aimee entered the dining area. She was making a beeline for Frank until she saw William.

He noticed her at the same time. “Aimee!”

She looked like she wanted to run away. “Hello, William.” Then she sidled up to Frank and put her hand in his.

“I never thought I would see you here.”

“I never thought I'd be here either,” she admitted softly. “Frank invited me.”

William raised an eyebrow. “Aunt Margo doesn't remember you?”

I could barely make out her reply; she said it so quietly. “No.”

Frank didn't let go of her hand, but he looked down on her with a confused and pained expression.

I felt for him.

Frank had always had bad fortune with wife hunting. Each girlfriend let him down harder than the one before. Now, when he was set to propose, an old boyfriend turned up. Or maybe I was reading too much into the situation.

“Best of luck to you,” William told her.

“I need prayers, not luck,” she said. Then Aimee turned her face into Frank's shoulder. It looked like there were tears in her eyes.

Without another word, William went back to his table.

Not exactly the tone I hoped for on Christmas Eve.

 

****

 

After a somber breakfast, Dad told us to head to the wading beach. “I'm told it's quite a spectacle,” he said. “Margo and I will be there shortly.”

As we walked over, Frank pulled Aimee away from us and the two of them had an animated conversation while they walked. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear a word of it.

As we neared the beach, I saw Charlie and the captain standing in the water near the beach. Then, a loud noise interrupted the songs of the seagulls. It took me a moment to realize that it was an everyday noise back home.

“Dad!” Justin cried. “It's a helicopter!”

Sure enough, a helicopter approached our position. Beneath it, hung one of the largest evergreens I had ever seen.

“Do we get to decorate that?” Josie asked in awe.

“But of course!” Margo announced from behind us. “And yet another amazing—and fun—reason for having a spiral staircase.”

“Whew!” Justin cheered.

The helicopter stirred up the surf as it drew closer to the island. Captain Blake and Charlie gave the second man in the helicopter various hand signals as the craft neared them. I could tell that they each had received many a Christmas tree in this fashion.

Finally, they unhooked the tree from the helicopter and let it plunge about fifteen feet into the surf.

“Now,” Margo shouted over the noise of the retreating copter, “we all wade in, grab a section of the tree and help carry it back to the house.”

The kids didn't need to be told twice. With an exultant cry, they raced into the water and up to the floating tree. With varying degrees of enthusiasm, we adults walked forward to claim a section of the tree.

I found it prickly, wet, and awkward. However, we did manage to carry it back without any one person shouldering the burden. When we made it inside with the tree, we mounted it in the stand in the center of the staircase. A rubber tree had been in that spot previously. The men and Justin had a wonderful time--and I mean this in the most sarcastic tone possible—wiping up puddles from the drenched branches, while getting the tree to stand just so and anchoring it securely in the spot. I was just grateful that my guys weren't the cursing type.

They would shuffle the tree. Then, they'd turn it, trim off a few lower branches, and try to get it to stand straight. When it didn't, they would measure, stand back, and gauge their progress. Convinced they had it figured out, the process would begin again.

“Let's leave this precision work to the guys and go get the cartons of lights and ornaments,” Margo announced.

Her daughter grumbled a little, but followed. Josie leapt out the door like a gazelle before I caught her and asked her to grab Jelly.

“He hasn't been out in a while. He's a good dog, but…”

Josie ran to the back patio where we'd lodged him for our stay here, and made it back to us with him on a leash in less than a minute.