Winter Hopes (Seasons of Love) (21 page)

“Can we help?” Lydia asked, eyeing the peppers that hadn’t been cut yet.

“Wait, I have an even better idea,” Jane quipped good-naturedly to the older women. “You two get lost, and let Lyddie and me take over.”

“Nothing doing,” Millie Aronson smiled. Jane tried to move in on her, and Millie gave her daughter-in-law a small, joking nudge
with her elbow. “
You
get lost! Go on, we’re working here!” she laughed.

“But you’re guests here,” Jane tried to argue.

“Guests?” Kathy scoffed in mock indignation. “How offensive!”

“We’re family, not guests,” Millie said. “We’ll let you two know if we need help, okay? Go away now, and let two elder ladies busy themselves. You had most of the food brought in, we had to do
something
.”

Jane sighed. “Alright. I'll surrender this time. But I’m coming back in a few minutes. You’re warned.”

Lydia found two wine glasses and plucked a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from the corner wine rack. “Jane?” She held up her finds. “I think your backyard is calling us.”

“I think she’s right,” Aunt Kathy laughed.

“Corkscrew,” Millie reminded them.

“Ah yes, thank you,” Jane replied. She grabbed a silver
corkscrew from a drawer, dropped light kisses on both women's cheeks, and followed Lydia out the back door.

The sisters crossed the backyard in contented silence. The breeze that blew was cool, but not cold. One of the neighbors must have lit their fireplace, for the quintessential autumn scent of burning wood flowed around them on the crisp air as they kicked through the last
of the brown leaves that had fallen onto the lawn. They sat on a long, ornate iron bench positioned against the wall of high, manicured bushes. Lydia gazed restfully at the thick clouds that floated in the grayish sky.

“Ahhh.” Jane smiled, taking in and then exhaling a deep breath as she relaxed. “I love that smell. Such a Fall smell.”

“One of my very favorite smells,” Lydia agreed.

“Yup. Now give me that bottle.”

“I’ve got it.” Lydia grinned. “Give me the corkscrew.”

“Bossy pants,” Jane wisecracked, handing it over. “Give me the glasses, then.”

Lydia opened the bottle of wine and poured a healthy amount into the glasses Jane held out. They clinked in a toast.

“Happy Turkey Day,” Lydia said.

“And to you,” Jane replied. “L'chaim.”

They drank long, deep sips.

“So are they driving you crazy yet?” Lydia asked. “Because I’m feeling it already, and I’ve only been here for two hours. You’ve had them here since last night.”

“Of course they’re driving me crazy.” Jane shrugged. “They’re Paul and Roslyn. Thank God for Tyler; he has infinite amounts of patience when it comes to them, for some reason. I seem to have less with each subsequent visit.” She crossed one leg over the other and
sat back. “Jesus, look how empty this yard looks with no leaves on
the trees. I hate that.”

“Yet you still have flowers,” Lydia noted, also reclining a bit.

“Yeah,” Jane said, glancing at the rows of purple, red, and white impatiens along her back wall. “They refuse to die. It hasn’t been cold enough yet. Power to ‘em.”

“Listen,” Lydia said, her voice suddenly earnest. “I, um… well, it’s Thanksgiving. And I wanted to take this opportunity to be the
big sap that I am and tell you that one of the things I’m most thankful for in the world is you, Janie. Every day, not just today. I honestly don’t
know how I would’ve gotten through the last year without you. Your support, your cheerleading, your help, your babysitting…
everything you do for me. I would have drowned. I am so grateful and so lucky to have you for a sister, and one of my best friends, and I just really wanted to make sure I told you that today.”

Jane looked stunned. Her eyes filled with soft tears. “Oh, Lydia.
What a beautiful thing to say.” She leaned over, careful not to spill her wine, and hugged her sister tightly. “You’re very welcome. I’m
happy I can help you. I love you. I’d do anything for you.”

“And you have,” Lydia said, hugging her sister back. “I just wanted to officially say it, since it’s Thanksgiving. I’m very, very thankful for you.”

“Stop it,” Jane sniffled into Lydia’s copper mane of hair. She kissed the side of Lydia’s forehead before pulling away to wipe
away tears.
“One day, things will be better for you, and you won’t need me as much. But in the meantime, I’m here. It’s you and me against the
world, kid, just like always. Together forever.”

“Thank God,” Lydia smiled softly, clinking her glass delicately to Jane's.

***

“I’m playing whoever wins,” Alec declared moments after
entering the playroom. He watched his oldest daughter lying across the floor,
her tiny mouth pursed in concentration as she played air hockey against her uncle. The large board took up most of the floor space. “I can’t believe you dragged that thing out of the closet,” he said to his
brother.

“Hope was bored, and I remembered you had it stashed in there,” Sam said as he took another shot. The ten-year-old girl deflected it, protecting her goal by stopping the small puck just short of its intended target.

“Ha!” Hope cried, victory gleaming in her eyes. Her dark blonde curls bounced as she tossed her head and said, “I’m not going down without a fight, Uncle Sam.”

“That’s my girl,” Alec beamed as he sat on the couch. “You hear that fighting spirit? She’s her father’s daughter.”

“Then look out world,” Sam grinned ruefully. He and Hope
volleyed
the puck a few more times before he took another hard shot; this
time, it sailed through the tiny goal.

“Darn it!” Hope shrieked, her brows furrowing and her mouth puckering up in a pout.

“That’s four to three now, right?” Sam asked lightly.

“Yes,” Hope grumbled.

“Who’s winning?” Alec asked.

“I am right now,” Sam said. “But I think you should play this girl when we’re done. She’s getting better at this. I’d like to see her kick your butt.”

“I’d like to see her try,” Alec teased, winking at his daughter.

When Sam got his fifth goal, he declared the game over, shook
Hope’s hand, and got up off the floor. He dropped a kiss on the top of his niece’s head and ceremoniously handed his disk to his older brother. “Here ya go, big man.”

“Thank you,” Alec said with a small bow. He also kissed Hope on the top of her head before taking the spot that Sam had vacated on the plush blue carpet.

“Do they need help in the kitchen with anything?” Sam asked, heading for the door.

“I don’t think so,” Alec said. “Paige, Arlene, and Mom seem to have it covered.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “Where’s Dad hiding?”

“Out in the backyard,” Alec replied. “He took Zack and Cindy outside to let them run around a little, get some air.”

Sam nodded, winked at Hope with an affectionate grin, and left them to their game. As he walked through Alec and Paige’s house, he pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and checked it for messages. He was beyond relieved to see none were from the office waiting for him; it took a national holiday for him to have no work at hand, no
crises to manage, no clients to deal with. There were text messages from Everett and John, each wishing him a Happy Thanksgiving. He
quickly
texted them good wishes in return, then went to the kitchen.
Heading towards the back door, he smiled at his mother, then Paige, and then
Paige’s mother, Arlene, as they worked to prepare various side
dishes for the big meal.

“You ladies need any help?” Sam asked politely. "I'm available."

“Not yet,” his mother, Marcy, answered with a smile. “But when we do, I’ll be sure to find you. Thanks for asking, sweetheart.”

“No problem,” Sam said, and journeyed out into the backyard.
Alec and Paige had a nice sized piece of land. The inground pool was covered for the winter; the soil for Paige’s large vegetable garden had been turned and the roots thatched; the trees were
starkly bare; but the
grass was still mostly green, and a few flowers that hadn’t died yet lined the perimeter of the spacious yard. His four-year-old nephew, Zack, and his seven-year-old niece, Cindy, were sitting on either side
of their
grandfather, on the grass, blowing bubbles. Henry had an arm
around each of them, with a pleased and contented smile across his face.

Sam whipped out his iPhone and took a picture. “Wow. Awesome shot.”

“Ha!” Henry grinned as Sam approached them. “I want a copy of that one.”

“I’ll email it to you tonight,” Sam said. He lowered himself to the ground to sit with his father and the children. “You guys having fun with Grandpa?”

“He brought us bubbles!” Zack said gleefully.

“He’s a smart man,” Sam said, smiling at the boy. “What’s up, there, CindyLou?”

She blew out a stream of bubbles. “Grandpa took us out here to keep us out of the grownups' way.”

“Like I said, he’s a smart man.” Sam winked at his father. Henry smiled in return.

They all sat together for a few minutes, chatting about the food that was being prepared inside and watching luminescent bubbles float into the sky. When a brisk breeze blew a group of bubbles away quickly, Sam asked the children, “You guys okay out here? I mean, you’ve got your coats on, but are you getting cold, or are you okay?”

“We’re okay,” Zack piped up, at the same exact time that Cindy said, “I’m getting cold.”

The two men laughed.

“Why don’t you guys go back inside then?” Sam suggested.

“Uncle Sam’s right,” Henry said. “Don’t want you kids catching a cold. I’m going to stay out here and talk to your uncle for a bit, but you two should go in now.”

“Okay,” Cindy said, climbing to her feet. She wrapped her arms around her grandfather’s neck to hug him tightly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the bubbles, Grandpa. I love you.”

Henry’s face lit with deep pleasure. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

“C’mon, Zackie,” Cindy commanded. “Time to go in.”

“I don’t wanna go!” Zack wailed.

“I think you should, little man,” Sam said. “Go on.”

Zack pouted, but begrudgingly handed his grandfather the plastic jar of bubbles he held. He kissed Henry on the cheek before taking off like a shot, running to the back door.

“Hey, wait for me!” Cindy cried, chasing after him. They got to the back door at the same time and got themselves inside.

“They’re such great kids,” Henry marveled. He leaned back on his hands and stretched out his legs before him.

“They sure are,” Sam agreed. “Amazing that Alec had anything to do with them.”

Henry chuckled at Sam’s jest.

Sam’s iPhone made a noise, jingling to alert him that he had a text message. He glanced down at it.

Knock knock
, read Lydia’s text.

He smiled softly.
Who’s there?
he typed back.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized to his father. “Don’t mean to be rude.”

Henry shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Atch
, Lydia responded.

Atch who?
Sam texted back with a knowing grin. He waited for the punchline.

I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a cold.

Sam smirked.
Ba dum dum! LOL
, he wrote back.

“Who’s so funny?” Henry asked.

“Lydia,” Sam said as he finished pressing the keys on his phone.

“Ah,” Henry said. He studied his younger son more closely.

My 9 y/o nephew just told me that joke
, Lydia texted.
Thought I’d share the hilarity with you.

Sam smiled broadly and wrote back,
Thanks. I think. Groooan!

“You look good, Sam,” Henry said.

Sam raised his head to look at his father. “What? I’m sorry.”

“You look good,” Henry repeated as his eyes swept over Sam’s face. “You look happy.”

Sam’s eyebrows lifted and the corner of his mouth turned up in his crooked half smile. “Yeah? Well… thanks. I am, actually.”

LOL
, came Lydia’s text.

Still smiling, Sam wrote back,
I miss you.

“You’re seeing her, then?” Henry asked. He hadn’t asked his son about Lydia before this, at all; he wasn’t a nosy person, and Sam suspected he got
updates from his wife. But since the opportunity was presenting itself,
he’d obviously decided to take it. "It's ongoing?"

“It is,” Sam said plainly.

Henry nodded. “Your mother told me you went to Manhattan last weekend to see her,” he said. “Sounds like it’s turning into something.”

“Actually,” Sam admitted slowly, “last weekend was the
second
time I went out there to see her. I went out there the first weekend of November too.”

This time it was Henry’s brows that shot up. “Oh. I didn’t realize that.”

Miss you too
, Lydia texted.
Talk to you later…

Sam smiled again and slipped his phone back into his pocket. "And I'm going again in a few weeks, for her birthday. The weekend
of the eleventh." He stretched his long legs out in front of him and leaned back on his hands, unconsciously mirroring his father.

“Wow.” Henry looked a bit taken aback. “Okay. Then it's…
really something.”

“Yeah,” Sam said quietly. “I think it is.”

“She just got divorced, right?” Henry asked in a cautious tone. “Fairly recently?”

“She signed the final papers in mid-October, right before I met
her,” Sam answered. "But she's been living on her own for about a year already. That marriage was very over.”

Henry only nodded. “She has a son?”

“Yup. Three and a half. His name’s Andy. I haven’t met him yet.”

“But you will?”

“I’d like to,” Sam said earnestly. “But she won’t let me until
she’s sure that we’re… really serious. She's protecting him. Maybe herself too. And I respect that.”