Songs of Christmas (26 page)

Estrella shook her head, looking a bit worn out, Lillian thought. “Not yet, Mrs. Elliot. This takes time. I need to go in person tomorrow, to fill out forms. There’s not much you can do over the phone . . . A relative called. My husband’s cousin. She lives in Andover. She said we could go stay with her if we needed to.”

“Andover? That’s so far away. You’d be far from your children all week, working down here.” Lillian caught herself. No need to point out the drawbacks. It was some solution, at any rate.

“Yes, I know. I am thinking if I have to go there, I would need to leave working for you and Dr. Ezra. It is too far. I would be worried if something happened. And it would be hard to leave my children during the week.”

This was exactly what Emily had alluded to that morning. Estrella might be forced to move from the area—and leave this job.

Lillian felt caught between the proverbial rock and hard place. She heard a strange sound and looked up to see Ezra balanced on his crutches like a grizzled old flamingo, his bathrobe tied, but just barely. He had somehow gotten out of bed on his own and made his way to the kitchen—to confront her once again, she had no doubt.

“What’s this I hear about Andover? Who’s going way up there?”

“Estrella has an in-law, her late husband’s cousin. She’s offered her a place to stay.”

Estrella was already at his side, looking concerned about his precarious balance on the crutches. “Come to the table, Dr. Ezra. Sit, please,” she urged him.

Ezra sat and looked up at her, his gaze troubled. “Well, what do you think? I don’t suppose you could move there and keep working here for us?”

Estrella shook her head, looking regretful. “No, sir. It would be too far away from the children—”

“I understand,” he said before she could go on. “We would hate to lose you. But you need to do what’s best for your family.”

“She hasn’t said she’s going for sure, Ezra,” Lillian pointed out. “It’s just an invitation. Estrella has been finding out how to apply for some temporary housing around here. She’s going to apply tomorrow.”

Estrella glanced at her. “I will, Mrs. Elliot. But my relative in Andover, she has a large house with a nice yard. Very pleasant. It might be best for the children.”

“Yes, a nice big house is much better for children,” Ezra said, sounding as if the admission was painful. “Much more comfortable.”

“Yes, sir, it would be. I would be sorry to leave here, though. I would be sorry to . . . disappoint you.”

No one said anything for a long minute. Ezra seemed about to speak, then gazed down at the table. He almost looked as if he might cry.

Finally, Lillian couldn’t stand it any longer. “All right, Ezra. I’m waving the white flag,” she announced, picking up a dish towel from the drain board and giving it a limp wave.

Ezra made a face at her, and Estrella stared at her curiously.

“Estrella, would you like to bring your family to stay here with us? Until you can make some other arrangements,” she added quickly.

Ezra seemed surprised but suspicious; he didn’t entirely trust this sudden about-face.

Estrella looked surprised as well. “Mrs. Elliot, you are inviting us to stay here? With you and Dr. Ezra?”

“Yes, yes, that’s right. Up on the third floor, there’s plenty of room and a big bathroom. Very private,” she said quickly.

“Really? . . . I would like this very much. Then I can stay and work for you, and the children can be at the same school.”

“Yes, that’s true. I didn’t think of it,” Lillian said honestly. It was hard to move a child in the middle of the school year. There would be that benefit for them, as well.

“You are sure this is all right? You have talked about it?” Estrella looked from Lillian to Ezra and back again.

“Oh, we have discussed it thoroughly,” Ezra said. “We want to open our doors to you. To help you out, if we can.”

“But this is too much trouble. Too much burden for you,” Estrella insisted. “I’m not sure.”

Lillian held her breath. She had some slim hope of reprieve and secretly crossed her fingers.

“Nonsense, nonsense. Don’t even think of it.” Ezra spoke with as much force as she had heard in weeks. “It’s no trouble at all. We have this big empty house. We couldn’t rest, thinking of your family in such dire straits. You’ll be doing us favor, coming here.”

Oh, brother, that part took the cake
. Lillian bit her tongue to stop herself from calling a halt to the whole thing.

Estrella looked a bit shocked by her sudden turn of good fortune. She sat down at the table near Ezra. For a moment, Lillian thought she might cry, too. These worries about her family obviously weighed heavily on her, though she hid it well. Lillian could see that now and did feel a sudden pang of compassion, recalling how she had once shouldered such heavy burdens in her own life.

“Well, it’s settled, then,” Lillian said. “Why don’t you take a look upstairs later and see if there’s anything you’ll need. Maybe Dan or Sam can come and move some furniture around for you. There are extra dressers in the guest room on the second floor,” Lillian recalled. “You take what you need.”

“Yes, you let us know whatever you need. We’ll get it for you,” Ezra promised.

“Thank you. Thank you both so much.
Muchas gracias
,” she added.

“De nada,”
Ezra replied with a smile.

Saints preserve me,
Lillian silently prayed.
How will I stand this, Lord?
Please show me the way.

“When you do you think you’ll move in?” Ezra asked cheerfully.

Estrella considered the question. “How about Saturday? That is usually my day off and will give me time to get the rooms ready.”

Lillian answered with a tight smile. “If you think the rooms will be ready by then,” she said. Saturday . . . it was so soon.

“Why not? There’s not much to do,” Ezra said. “You can come sooner if you like.”

Estrella nodded, still looking glassy-eyed but smiling widely.

Ezra looked happy again, too. He sat up and smoothed his hand over his hair. “I’m feeling hungry. I shouldn’t have skipped lunch. Any leftovers?”

Lillian watched Estrella fuss over him. She was glad the long siege was over, but she would have to set down some house rules. Especially for the children.

At least Ezra was happy. And things would get back to normal. He would play gin rummy with her later and not just stare at her with that pained, unhappy look.

A high price to pay,
she thought. But she’d really had no choice in the matter, and “what cannot be cured, must be endured,” she recalled.

Chapter Eleven

T
HOUGH
A
MANDA CAME TO THE CHURCH EVERY DAY IN THE
week that followed the storm, Gabriel was only there that Tuesday, the day they had worked together to clean up the sanctuary. He had started another job in Essex right before the storm hit, and that was his first priority. But he and Amanda did agree that he would pick her up at church after work on Friday evening. Amanda had brought a sweater and jeans and what her sister Lauren called “fun” earrings and changed in the restroom at five o’clock.

It felt to her as if she’d known Gabriel much longer than three weeks, yet this was their first real date. The pancakes at the Clam Box somehow did not qualify, in her mind.

Their relationship was moving to a new level, and she felt a little nervous. But happy, too. The more she learned about Gabriel, the more she liked and even admired him.

She stood outside the church, near a bench on the green, waiting for him. He drove up right on time in his blue truck, then jumped out to open the door for her.

He quickly kissed her cheek before she climbed into the front seat. It felt like the most natural thing in the world—and surprised her at the same time.

As Amanda got settled in her seat, Gabriel headed out of the village. “I thought we could go up to Newburyport. There’s another chamber music concert tonight, if you’d like to try it.” He handed her a newspaper listing for baroque holiday music. It looked interesting to her, but she wondered if Gabriel would like it as well. It was touching how he was so eager to please her. Most of the men she had met lately were not like that at all.

“This looks good,” she said, “but we could do something else. See a movie?”

He glanced at her. She could tell he knew why she was hesitating. “I don’t mind,” he told her. “It’s good to try new things. Next time, we’ll see some action movie with lots of car chases, okay?”

She smiled. “Okay, it’s a deal.” Somehow she doubted his taste ran to movies with car chases, but she was glad he already thought there would be a next time.

The concert was in an old theater with red velvet seats and matching drapes on the stage. The walls were coated with ornate gold moldings and lit by antique light fixtures that might have been gaslights in an earlier time. The theater and stage were decorated for the holidays, and the musicians wore old-fashioned dress as well. Amanda hadn’t really gotten into a holiday mood yet; the storm seemed to have washed that away. But the beautiful atmosphere and music were just what she needed to get her moving in the right direction.

From time to time, she stole glances at Gabriel’s expression as they listened to the different pieces. She could tell he was honestly enjoying the performance, and that made her enjoy it more. At one point, a cello player came out and played a remarkable solo, a movement from a famous piece by Bach. Gabriel squeezed her hand and leaned close to her. “That will be you someday, Amanda,” he whispered. “Someday very soon.”

I hope you’re right,
she thought, but couldn’t quite say the words. If he was right, it could change everything between them.

After the concert they walked to a Japanese restaurant that Gabriel suggested. It was a chilly night but very clear. The streets and shops of Newburyport looked so pretty, the windows full of enticing displays. She hadn’t done much shopping yet. Maybe she would come back here tomorrow or Sunday afternoon with her sisters. They were both due home by tomorrow night.

She did notice that the Christmas decorations were not quite as elaborate as they had been other years. Maybe they had started off elaborate, then been blown away by the storm, and this was the second try?

“I think the storm almost washed Christmas away this year,” she said. “There are usually a lot more decorations up here.”

“I noticed that, too. But it still looks pretty. Maybe this is the Christmas of less is more?” He glanced at her, and she replied with a questioning look. “I mean, maybe this year people will be less concerned about decorations and ‘stuff,’ and instead reach out to others who were hit by the storm. If we rush to get back to normal and act like it’s business as usual—shop, shop, shop—we might forget. We might miss a really big message in all this.”

“I know what you mean.” Amanda had continued to work at the comfort center at church through the week, meeting many people whose lives had been devastated by the storm. “It’s going to take a long time for people to rebuild and get back to normal, even though all the power is on again.”

During dinner their conversation turned to lighter topics. Gabriel was back to his charming, teasing self as they talked about everything from books to movies to sibling silliness.

“So, any embarrassing nicknames I need to know about?” he asked.

“No, none at all.” She was lying. Though not entirely. She did have a silly nickname, but it wasn’t one he needed to know.

“Sorry, Amanda, but I can tell just by the way you’re looking at me with those big baby blues that you’re holding back. Come on . . . what is it?”

He’d caught her, but that didn’t mean she had to admit it. “I do have a family nickname,” she confessed. “But it’s very silly . . . and I don’t want to tell you.”

“What’s the big deal? I have one. It’s worse than Pie Guy, too. I bet it’s worse than yours,” he challenged her. He took a big bite of sushi, then winced a little at the hot wasabi he’d put on top.

“Okay, tell me your nickname, and I’ll let you know if mine is more embarrassing,” she offered.

Which still didn’t mean she would tell him the name.

He took a long drink of water and sat back. “My awful childhood nickname is . . . Gabby-gator. Yours cannot be half as bad as that.”

Amanda laughed. “I get the ‘gabby’ part,” she admitted. “Where does the ‘gator’ come in?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. We were on this long car drive to Florida, some family vacation. My brother kept saying I wouldn’t shut up, and I guess he had alligators on the brain.”

Amanda had to laugh at the story. “I hope you got him back for sticking you with that.”

“Oh, I did, don’t worry. But I’m sworn to secrecy, so don’t ask me what the payback name is. Okay, your turn. I told you my darkest secret. You promised to tell me yours.”

Her family nickname was hardly her darkest secret, but it probably was her most embarrassing. “I never promised that,” she insisted. “But I’ll tell you anyway.” She took a breath and ignored his gaze, which was fixed on her in the most unnerving way. “My family nickame is . . . Manda Bear.”