Songs of Christmas (30 page)

“I thought the Salazars would have their own tree, upstairs,” she said honestly. “Why do they have to share ours?”

“Oh, Lillian . . .” He waved his good hand at her. “Sometimes I don’t know why I even bother.”

“Just tell me now, Ezra. Will everything I do from now on be dictated by the needs of these visitors? Whom I didn’t even want here in the first place?” she asked in a low tone.

His face took on that pinched look again, and he turned away, crossing his good arm over his chest.

Emily glanced at both of them. “I can find one that isn’t too big, Mother. It might cheer up everyone to have a real tree this year.”

“Exactly,” Ezra agreed.

Lillian knew it was time to give in. “All right. Get a reasonably sized tree, if you must. But get some plastic Christmas ornaments. I don’t think I’ll bring my good things down from the attic this year,” she added wistfully. She did love to see her holiday decorations. Most had been purchased when Emily and Jessica were small, when her husband was still alive and they lived in the huge house on his family’s estate, Lilac Hall. Some were even from his family, though most of those antiques had been left as part of the trust. The mansion and estate had been sold to the county to satisfy her husband’s creditors and turned into a historical center. She still sat on the board of trustees. They decorated every year very nicely, in the Victorian tradition.

A few ornaments in her collection had been in her own family, the Merchants of Beacon Hill. Those pieces had been sent to her by her brother after her parents died, even though she had been cut off from her family after her marriage to Oliver Warwick. But there were some happy memories of her childhood in the big house on Beacon Hill. And good memories of the times when her own girls were young, too. They loved to trim the tree and got so excited, Lillian could hardly direct them to do it at a reasonable pace.

But why think of all that now? Christmas made one feel such nostalgia. It really wasn’t good for old people like herself. Or Ezra.

“Yes, get lots of brand-new ornaments, preferably the kind they can’t break. Maybe they’ll want to take them when they leave,” she added. She glanced at her husband. “Well, are you happy now?” she asked. “I’m trying to be nice.”

He nodded but didn’t quite smile. “Yes, I see. A regular Mrs. Santa Claus.”

Lillian sighed. There was just no pleasing him, no matter how she tried. It was all this inactivity, being stuck in that bed. It was making him very moody. Everyone thought she was the difficult one, but she needed the patience of a saint with him at times like this. And she never got any credit for it.

* * *

EMILY AND DAN WEREN’T ABLE TO BRING THE TREE UNTIL LATE SUNDAY
afternoon, just three days from Christmas. The children had been told it was coming and had been waiting all day. They were in Ezra’s room, the little girl watching her unicorn movie for the umpteenth time. Even the music from the film drove Lillian crazy. She didn’t know how Ezra could stand it. He had probably turned off his hearing aids.

The boy was in there, too. Ezra had played checkers with him on Saturday night and on Sunday morning, he started to teach him chess, praising his every move.

She had tried to sit in there, too, to do her cross-stitch in her usual spot. But she had felt pushed out. The room was too small for that many visitors. Besides, Ezra didn’t want to play gin rummy with her or do the crossword puzzle. He had new playmates. She was old hat, too boring for him now.

Emily and Dan came in through the kitchen. “We have the tree. It’s a very nice one,” Emily called out, full of holiday spirit. “And we brought some pizza . . . Is anybody hungry?”

The children ran out of Ezra’s room a split second later. Ezra came along on his crutches. “Pizza . . . My, that smells good. The tree smells wonderful, too. That pine smell just fills up the house, makes it really feel like Christmas. Right, Lily?”

Lillian nodded. Dan had left the tree in the mudroom while he set up the stand. Emily served the pizza. She had thoughtfully brought along paper plates and napkins. But Lillian still feared it would end up all over the house.

“Sit down and eat it right here, children,” Lillian urged them. “Make sure your hands are clean before you walk around the house,” she warned.

Ezra took a seat between the children and happily helped himself to a slice, which was undoubtedly full of salt and not good for his heart. Lillian had been looking forward to some soup and salad for dinner. Pizza was so greasy and rich, but once it was set before her, she couldn’t resist it, though she ate standing, as if to signal that she wasn’t fully giving in to this decadence.

Estrella and Bonita came down the back staircase, into the kitchen. Estrella helped Marta cut her pizza and served herself and her mother.

“Mmm,
bueno
,” Bonita said with a smile as she took a big bite. “
Gracias
, Emily. Thank you,” she managed. She glanced at Lillian and moved her chair over to make room. “
Señora
, sit,” she urged her, looking puzzled at Lillian’s hesitation.

Lillian shook her head. “I’m quite all right, thank you.”

Finally, the pizza was done. Estrella lingered in the kitchen to clean up while Emily herded everyone into the living room. Dan had set up the tree near the big bay window that faced the street, at the far side of the room.

The tree had not seemed that tall in the mudroom, leaning against the wall. But when it was set in the stand, Lillian found herself tilting her head back to take it all in. The top branch grazed the ceiling, and she had high ceilings. She had not seen such a tall tree in this house in years.

Dan had already strung some lights and now plugged them in.

The children sighed with awe. Especially the little girl, Lillian noticed.

“Here are the ornaments.” Emily came in with a pile of boxes and opened them, putting some on the coffee table.

Ezra hobbled in on his crutches just in time to see the children attack the boxes. Bonita slowed them down, scolding them in Spanish. She had apparently forgotten Estrella’s “only English” rule. But for a good cause, Lillian thought.

Marta was too small to get her ornaments very high. Ezra leaned on one crutch to help her. “On this branch?” he asked patiently. “Is that where you want it to go?”

Lillian was alarmed as he balanced so precariously. “Ezra, please. Sit down. You’ll wind up in the hospital again. Here, let me.” She took the ornament and stuck it on a nearby branch. “There, that looks pretty,” she insisted, though even she could see that ornament was hanging at an awkward angle. Oh, bother. She simply didn’t have the patience for this.

Jorge dropped his ornament. When he tried to pick it up, he kicked it by accident and it bounced across the rug. He looked up, laughing, then chased after it. Marta laughed, too.

Lillian swallowed hard. If that her been one of her blown-glass ornaments from the early 1900s, she would be having a stroke by now.

It was stressful enough watching them run back and forth to the boxes, liable to bump into so many of her good things en route. She had put her very fine pieces out of harm’s way, up on the mantel and in the china cupboard. But there had to be a few things decorating the room. She hated taking her entire house apart. Why should she? Children need to learn to be careful and respectful of other people’s property.

She had to admit that these children weren’t that rowdy, not like her grandsons had been when they were little. But she still had to keep an eye on them.

Finally, the boxes of ornaments were empty. The children searched them a second time, looking sad.

“Wait, I almost forgot. I found a little crèche,” Emily said. She pulled another box from a shopping bag and handed it to the children. “You can set this under the tree. You know how it goes, right?”

Jorge nodded eagerly. “We need to save the baby for midnight.”

“Save the baby? What is he talking about?” Lillian looked about for some explanation.

Estrella laughed. “When we set up the manger scene, we have a custom. We leave the cradle empty and put the figure of baby Jesus in on Christmas Eve, at midnight.”

“I see,” Lillian said quietly. The two children were having a fine time arranging the animals and the wise men.

Marta rose and ran over to her. “Here, you keep this, Mrs. Elliot. He’s yours.” She dropped the little plastic figure of the Savior in her lap.

Lillian held it in the palm of her hand. “All right, I’ll keep the baby in a safe place.” She would put it in the secretary, she decided. Such an important role to play. Well, at least they’d included her in some way.

But Emily had another surprise and produced bags of candy canes to top things off, which the children were happy to add to the tree.

“My, my, that looks perfect,” Ezra said. “The only thing we need is a shiny star for the top.”

“I can make one, Doctor Ezra,” Jorge offered. “I can make it at school tomorrow.”

“That would be great, Jorge. I’m sure the one you’ll make will be perfect,” Ezra encouraged him.

At least they had one more full day of school tomorrow, Lillian thought. Then they would have vacation for more than a week. How she was dreading that. Maybe, with Emily’s help, they could be well on their way before the New Year. Lillian certainly hoped so.

Finally, the project was done. Lillian felt exhausted, even though she had only hung one ornament. Emily and Estrella were clearing up the boxes. Lillian thought they would all head to their rooms now. Wasn’t it late enough? Hadn’t they shared enough holiday cheer? And there was school tomorrow, she wanted to remind everyone.

“How about singing some Christmas carols?” Ezra looked around to see what the others thought. “That’s what we always did in my family, when I was a boy. We would decorate the tree and sing Christmas songs. What’s your favorite?” he asked the children.

“‘Jingle Bells’!” Marta jumped up, very excited.

“Good choice.” Ezra turned to Emily. “Would you play for us, Emily? I remember you used to.”

“Oh, Ezra, I hardly remember a thing about the piano,” Emily admitted with a laugh.

“That piano is very out of tune. Nobody’s touched it in years. I don’t know why I still keep it here,” Lillian said, relieved they wouldn’t have off-key music along with the off-key carolers.

“I can play a little.” Estrella looked at Lillian and then Ezra but didn’t approach the old upright piano.

“Go ahead, go ahead. Please do. Who cares if we’re out of tune? It’s the spirit that counts,” Ezra insisted.

Estrella sat down at the piano and opened the cover. Then her hands ran over the keys in a quick, fluid scale.

She
can
play,
Lillian thought,
and more than a little.

“Okay, let me see. I’m not sure if I remember how it goes . . .” Estrella began very haltingly, picking out the melody.

“Oh, my word.” Lillian let out sigh. “There’s a music book in the bench, red cover. Christmas carols. All you want.” She waved her hand impatiently. The woman might as well have the music. The sooner this got rolling, the sooner it would be done.

They started with “Jingle Bells” and slowly worked their way through the book. Lillian left as they began “Feliz Navidad” for the second time.

She went into the kitchen, where Emily was making the children hot cocoa, at Ezra’s request.

“Well, the tree was a big hit,” Emily said.

“Yes, wasn’t it.” Lillian sat down heavily at the table.

“Would you like some hot chocolate, Mother?”

“Are you daft? That will keep me up all night . . . I’ll take some soup, if you can warm it up for me. Soup and crackers, that’s all I want.”

Emily soon brought her the soup. The cocoa was ready, too, and Emily began to set up a tray with mugs and cookies.

“Don’t you dare serve that in my living room,” Lillian said sharply. “They can have it in here, after I’m done eating. I’m tired and I have an awful headache. I’m going up to bed.”

Emily gave her a sympathetic look. “All right. You have had a busy day.”

Lillian finished her soup and headed upstairs to her room, using the back staircase, which was perilously narrow for her to climb with her cane. But she didn’t want to see any of them and be forced to make more pleasantries.

She needed to be alone. Too much noise and agitation, just as she had expected. It wasn’t good for her health. Ezra wasn’t the only one around here who needed consideration. But nobody worried about her.
No one down there would miss me, not if I keeled over right now and croaked on these stairs,
she reasoned.
Not even Ezra
.

Feeling very low and sorry for herself, Lillian made it slowly up the stairs and down the hall to her room. She could still hear them singing downstairs when she firmly shut her door.

Chapter Twelve

L
ILLIAN USUALLY DREADED THE
C
HRISTMAS
E
VE GATHERING
at her daughter Jessica’s house. So many people and such casual dress, a big help-yourself buffet instead of a decent, sit-down dinner served in the dining room and not all over the house. It was not at all the way she had entertained on the holidays.