Sweet Christmas Kisses (102 page)

She had the road to herself so she drove leisurely and enjoyed the scenery. She’d never seen this road from a driver’s viewpoint, plus time and weather had altered the sandy landscape and foliage, but even in winter it was generally familiar in a coastal sort of way. She was so busy looking that she almost missed her turn.

Coral—the color strong and warm in the bright daylight—how could she ever have forgotten it?

Seeing the house again, being here, felt almost like time travel, except the setting hadn’t changed, only the traveler.

The house looked brightly tropical and huge. The sky was deep blue and the air was unseasonably warm. Delightful.

The steps rose steeply from the asphalt parking area at the back of the house, up along the side of the house until it reached the side door on the second level. She remembered those narrow wooden steps and how she’d clung to the railing as the wind, fresh off the ocean, whipped around the corner of the building.

But she’d remembered the stairs with a child’s eye. They weren’t as steep as she recalled, but her used-to-be child’s legs had aged twenty-five years. After the first trip up the stairs, she took a quick tour inside. After the second trip, she decided a break was due.

The interior had been redone. Different furniture, of course, but very similar. The style and colors were still beachy—turquoise and coral and sandy beige. The windows fronting the ocean were big and the view was unobstructed. White Carolina rockers graced the porch.

Jess went out to the porch. It had been a long time since she’d been to any beach.

She walked to the end of the crossover and greeted the ocean. Not quite warm enough for shorts, but close. Barbecue weather for Christmas, Dad would’ve said. Phantom voices, high and excited, rose all around, transporting her back. She soaked it in for a few minutes before getting back to business and resuming her trips up and down.

Mama would arrive tomorrow afternoon, Lila later that day, and Rob and his crew the next day.

For the rest of today it was her alone and she had lots to do to create a festive holiday spirit here for her family.

She unpacked the food first, including the entrée for Christmas dinner. It was a massive cut of tenderloin, solidly frozen now, but she put it into the fridge to begin the defrost countdown to the 25.

Jess draped garland over the doors and curtain rods, and hung glittery stars from the base of the small chandelier over the dining table. She’d brought along some Christmas floral arrangements and her collection of Christmas candles, not to mention the usual red and green tapers with their holly and ivy holders.

Her phone was in her purse on the kitchen counter. With all the back and forth, and up and down, she didn’t hear it ring. A voice mail waited for her to discover it, which she did after most of the decorating, and the evening, were done.

Rob’s voice. “Jess, sorry. Janie has a fever. Let’s give it a day and see what happens. It’s probably nothing. I’ll call you early tomorrow with an update.”

Janie was in second grade. Prime territory for germs.

Still, kids got mysterious hit-and-run fevers all the time. She’d be fine by morning. No reason to assume her younger siblings, Rich and Suze, would come down with it, too. Rob and his family weren’t even due here until day after tomorrow.

With that reassurance, Jess tidied up, her enthusiasm only slightly dampened. She saved the best bedroom for her mother, the same one her parents had used years ago. Jess took the next best. Rob and his crew could have the two bedrooms on the main level. It made sense with the kids. She left the topmost room for Lila who had younger legs. She could climb.

Jess arranged the photo album and a small stack of games and jigsaw puzzles on the coffee table. Before she turned in, she made the beds and hung towels in the bathrooms.

Nothing could spoil this Christmas. This was going to be great, an event to remember for a long time.

In the morning, Jess settled at the dining table with the beach Christmas photo album and flipped through the pages while she drank apple juice and ate a bagel, and waited for Rob to call.

By ten a.m. Jess was tip-tapping her fingernails on the table top. She checked her cell phone again to make sure the ringer was set to loud. Finally, she dialed Rob.

“Hey, Jess.”

“Hey yourself. How’s Janie?”

“She still has a fever and now Richie’s down with it.”

“Sis, I know you’re disappointed. It’s lousy when kids get sick for Christmas, but it happens.”

“Christmas is several days away. They’ll be well before then.”

This time he held the silence, but for not as long. “Even if they’re better in a couple of days it’s a six hour drive to Emerald Isle. Six hours with kids who are just getting over something. We’d hardly be there before having to drive another six hours back.”

She nearly bit through her lip. She tasted iron. No words were allowed out until she’d chosen the right ones.

“Jess?”

“Do your best, okay? It won’t be the same without you all. Literally. That’s not a platitude. Understand?”

“Sure. But no promises. Elaine won’t like the idea of a trip with the kids having just been sick, that’s even assuming they kick it quickly.”

In that darker moment of disappointment, Jess couldn’t help a thought that Elaine might not worry about a shorter trip, say, for instance, a drive that would take them to her parent’s home on the lake for the holidays. It was a rotten little thought and it didn’t matter how true it was, or wasn’t. It was the kind of thought that could eat you alive, and solve nothing because ‘
not here’
was still not here, no matter where the
‘where’
was.

Mama would be disappointed. And Lila. Christmas and the festivities lost a lot of their shine without excited kids, without stockings hanging low filled to their overflowing brims with goodies, without teasing about Santa, and without her favorite part—the reading of the Nativity Story. Dad read it aloud every year and his voice was so alive in her head it was as if his cheek was near her ear and she could feel the whisper of his breath.

Fresh from viewing the photo album, her resentment still sharp-edged despite knowing better, she slammed it closed, then patted the leather cover as if it could appreciate the apology.

“Sorry,” she said.

She reminded herself there was value in a peaceful, reflective Christmas with loved ones, even if it was the same three people who’d shared Thanksgiving. If they had to, they could make it work.

Maybe they’d find a local midnight service. That would’ve been tricky with the little ones.

It was always important to look on the bright side.

****

It was barely noon when Jess, in the midst of sorting through the food and checking the snacks, realized someone was on the porch. Through the front window, she saw a brown-haired woman seated in a rocker. Mama had arrived early.

She rushed to open the front door. “Hi. Why didn’t you knock? I’m so glad to see you.”

Jess bent over to hug her. Mama reached up to return the hug and they touched cheeks.

“It’s such a beautiful day. I wanted to take it all in for a few minutes.” She pointed to the wreath hanging on the post. “That sure is pretty.”

Jess drew back and placed her hands on her mother’s shoulders. She examined her face. She looked worried. Did she already know about Rob and his family?

“What’s wrong?” Jess asked.

“It’s so very beautiful and the weather is perfect, almost too perfect. It certainly brings back memories.” She sat again and patted the rocker next to hers. “Won’t you sit here with me?” She sighed and faced the ocean. She twisted her hands together. “Lucy called.”

Jess sat, but leaned toward her mother and laid a hand on her arm. “Is Aunt Lucy okay?”

“Oh, sure. You won’t believe what she said to me.” She gave a half-laugh. “She said, Sister, I got a great deal on a last-minute cruise and you’re already packed.” She turned back to meet Jess’s eyes. “And she’s right, I guess.”

“A cruise? Like after Christmas? For New Year’s?”

“I’m afraid this will disappoint you, maybe hurt you, and I wouldn’t want to do that for the world, but this–” She waved her arms at the house. “It brings back many memories.”

“That’s the point.”

She shook her head. “Too fresh, Jessie. It’s still too new. I see your father here. It’s like being back when you were children and we all had a future. Now…”

Jess hadn’t thought of that. She was speechless. She’d been thinking of herself. Mama’s grief was too fresh, too raw.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“The cruise goes to the Caribbean. It sails out of Charleston, so not much further to drive.”

“Several hours. A couple, at least.” Jess took a deep breath.

“Never mind, honey. You’ve worked hard to make all this happen. I’ll tell Lucy we’ll go another time. She can get someone else to go with her this trip.”

Mama’s eyes were teary. Hers were, too.

“It’s okay.” Jess put her arm around her mother’s shoulders. “I should’ve known. I should’ve asked how you felt about having this holiday at the beach.”

“Are you sure?”

Mama was going on a cruise. Over Christmas.

Jess took a deep breath. She nodded, then answered, “Definitely. Absolutely.”

 “I’d have to get back on the road right away.” Mama checked her watch.

Jess gulped, then shook it off. “I’ll walk you to your car. Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes. Lucy called yesterday. I didn’t know what to do. I packed for either way. Going with Lucy or staying here, that is.”

“Yesterday? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to say it to you, face to face. I’m so sorry, Jessie, honey. I don’t want to ruin your holiday plans.”

Jess stopped short. "No, you can’t go.”

“What?”

“I'm sorry, but even to go to the Caribbean, you need a passport now."

"No worries, honey. I got one a few months ago."

That stunned Jess. She let it go—the last squeaky hope her mother would stay. In that quiet moment, Mama kissed her cheek.

“Be sure to hug Rob and Elaine and the kids for me, okay?”

Jess nodded, not sure what to say.

“By the way, Lila is having some minor car trouble. We spoke this morning. She said it’s nothing serious and she’ll run by the repair shop and be on her way. She’ll be a little delayed.”

Jess watched her drive away. A passport? Her mother had never said a word about wanting to travel.

Her wave and smile lasted long enough for the car to reach the corner and turn out of sight, then her cheery demeanor sagged.

Now what?

She climbed the stairs and walked through the house. She couldn’t settle. Packages of food were arrayed across the kitchen counters, but she couldn’t dig up the will to re-engage with the Christmas prep. She wandered back to the porch and sat in the rocker again. A teary sniffle found its way out, but she shut it down. No self-pity was allowed.

The sun was strong, reflecting off the sand and water. There wasn't a wisp of breeze so the air was on the warm side of mild. Beautiful sunshine. Pristine sand. It was a pleasure to sit and rock on the porch. Or should’ve been. She bit her lip and worried it between her teeth. She'd stopped biting her nails years ago and her worry mannerisms had simply transferred.

“Ma’am?”

She heard a man’s voice, but saw no one, only the pointy green top of a fir tree moving up into view as it ascended the steps.

“Hello?” she asked, as if the tree might explain itself.

The fir tree shimmied back and forth. The man carrying it climbed the last steps and maneuvered around the branches.

He smiled. His expression was open and charming. “Special delivery for the Dawson family.” His hair was dark and his eyes were darker still. “Jessie? Jessie Dawson?”

 “That’s me.” She crossed her arms. “Is that a tree?” Of course, it was. “What am I supposed to do with that?” 

He stared, his expression suddenly blank except for a slight frown. “It’s a Christmas tree. A spruce, I think. It itches.”

As he spoke, in the back of her head she heard the echo of Rob’s voice when he’d accepted the invitation to the beach. “I’ll take care of the tree, sis,” he’d said.

“Fine. Leave it out here.”

Disbelief and puzzlement worked across his face like passing shadows and echoed in his voice. “Don’t you want me to carry it in and set it up?”

“No.”

He shifted the tree from one arm to the other. “You mean, really leave it? Out here?” He looked around, then rested the tree, still upright, against the railing. “Be right back.”

He took off down the stairs. Jess went to the rail and leaned over. “What are you doing?” she asked, but he was already gone.

She put her hands on either side of her head and pressed her fingers against her temples. How inconvenient. No, in honesty, it wasn’t the inconvenience of an unwanted Christmas tree, but rather the tree was a conspicuous reminder of her failed plans.

The boards beneath her feet vibrated as she heard his boots hit the steps. He was carrying a red and green cardboard box.

“Here it is.” He grinned, seeming irrationally pleased with himself and holding the box like a trophy.

“Here what is?”

“The tree stand. It comes with the tree.”

“I don’t need it. Never mind.”

“Like I said, the tree comes with it.” He knelt and right there on the porch he started securing the tree into the stand.

“I appreciate your work ethic, but I don’t need a tree.”

He stood. The tree was slightly atilt, but he seemed to have lost interest in the delivery. “What? Are you calling off Christmas or something?”

“I have no use for a tree.”

They had a stare-down. During the eyeball to eyeball glare she noticed his hair could use a trim. His smile had been pleasant when he arrived—before she’d squelched the goodwill. She crossed her arms again, more tightly, and stood straighter because it didn’t matter to her whether he was good-looking or not.

“Take it with you and give it to someone who can use it.”