A Woman Loved Page 14

  Sitting on the edge of the bed while Sarah hopped in the shower, I strained to hear if any other creatures, besides Casey, were stirring, and if there were, I was praying for Christmas mice. Was that how the poem went?

  For the umpteenth time, I was reminded of my childhood deficit, as Maddie liked to say. While millions of American children had parents who read them nighttime stories, I had the Scotch-lady, who ignored my existence to the best of her alcohol-soaked abilities. And, Dad had been too busy raising Gabe and Allen. I wondered how committed Sarah was to naming our next child Charlie.

  Assured no one else was up, I tossed on jeans and a long sleeve and decamped downstairs after a quick trip to the bathroom on the main floor.

  Casey sat in a chair at the kitchen table, munching on Cheerios she’d poured into a bowl without milk or a spoon. She popped one into her mouth with her fingers.

  “Morning,” I whispered, adding, “Merry Christmas,” as I filled the kettle with water from the kitchen sink.

  “Do you think Santa came to my house?” She lobbed another Cheerio into her mouth, kicking her feet under the table.

  I clicked on the gas burner under the teakettle, stalling for time. How did brainiac Casey still believe in Santa? “Are you worried you won’t have any gifts to open when you get home?”

  “Daddy said Santa was dead-broke due to the Republican tax bill.” She munched on another Cheerio, not showing much disappointment. “Do elves get health benefits? Is being short a preexisting condition?”

  I placed my hand over the spout of the kettle as if using my mental powers to heat up the water faster. This wasn’t the type of conversation I wanted to have, especially before getting my first dose of caffeine. “Oh, I think Santa treats his elves quite well.”

  “Hmm.” She pointed out the window. “I haven’t seen any reindeer tracks.”

  I pivoted slowly. “Have you been up all night?”

  Casey nodded. “Last year, I fell asleep, but not this one.”

  “And you never saw reindeer or Santa?” It was fruitless to stall yet again, but I was out of my depth.

  “Oh, I heard something around one o’clock in the front of the house, but I wasn’t sure if I should inspect. Daddy said if Santa spied me peeking, all my presents would disintegrate. Is that possible?” Without waiting for a reply, she continued, “That’s why I was in here, keeping an eye out for reindeer. Can they fly during a blizzard?”

  At least she hadn’t spied Sarah and me setting out gifts under the tree, crushing her belief in Santa. It was difficult to wrap my head around all the fibs Ethan had to concoct daily to deal with his overly inquisitive daughter. The kettle started to whistle, but I whisked it off the flame before alerting the rest of the house Christmas morning had started. “Most definitely. They’re reindeer, after all, and thrive in these conditions.” I jerked my head to the window at the piles of snow outside that I couldn’t see since it was still black as midnight and all the Christmas lights had been switched off long ago.

  Her expression didn’t elicit much confidence in my assertion. She hopped off the kitchen chair and wandered to my side, still clutching the Cheerios bowl. Not wanting to talk down to her while I fixed my breakfast, I hoisted her onto the island.

  “Would you like some fruit and toast?” I pulled out the drawer next to the oven, which was the toaster’s home.

  “I like bananas.”

  “Righty-O.” I picked a ripening banana from the fruit bowl. “Is this yellow enough?”

  She nodded. “Did you know giraffes eat dirt?”

  While cracking the banana open for her, I pondered the meaning of her question. Was she literally talking about giraffes, or was this a comment she heard from the likes of Maddie referring to… what? Lesbian sex? “Would you like me to chop up banana on top of your cereal?”

  Casey shook her head. “I don’t like my food touching other food.”

  “Does that include milk?”

  “Correct.”

  I wondered if this trait would outlast her childhood.

  “So, did you know that about giraffes?” She set the bowl down on the counter and accepted the peeled banana.

  I slotted two pieces of seeded bread into the toaster. “Nope. Where did you hear that?”

  “From Ian. He’s in my dance class, and he has a faux mohawk.” She mimed spiking up her hair on top. “Should I cut my hair short so I can do that?”

  Not wanting to step into the hair-style landmine, I asked, “How does Ian know so much about giraffes?” I bit into a crunchy Gala apple.

  “His mom, not his birth mom but lesbian mom, is a world traveler.”

  Again, that roused my suspicions that the giraffe licking dirt comment was a lesbian thing, but how could I ask Casey for clarification?

  I opted to tiptoe around the issue. “Why do they eat dirt?”

  “For minerals.”

  Somewhat mollified, I nodded. “Like taking vitamins.”

  “Exactly. I’m glad I don’t have to eat dirt for my iron and zinc intake.”

  Luckily the toast sprang up, allowing me to turn my back to hide my smile. Never in a million years did I think I’d be spending Christmas morning chatting with a child about giraffes eating dirt for minerals. Wait. Why was no one up yet?

  I smeared vegan butter onto a slice of toast. “It’s awfully quiet, don’t you think?”

  “Daddy warned me he’d be late today. He says it’s Maddie’s fault.”

  “What’s my fault?” Maddie strolled into the kitchen, yawning, with little Demi on her hip.

  “Everything, according to Ethan,” I said. “But in this case, I think your eggnog.”

  Sarah trailed in after Maddie with a twin on each hip. “Coffee and stat.” She added, “Please.”

  “Merry Christmas,” I said with too much vindictive glee. “Did you know giraffes eat dirt? Casey, fill them in while I get going on the twins’ breakfast and coffee for the grown-ups.”

  Casey hopped down from the island.

  While prepping the coffee, Sarah sidled up next to me for a cuddle after securing the twins and Demi in their high chairs.

  I took advantage of the opportunity and whispered in her ear, “Casey’s worried Santa didn’t know where to find her. She stayed up all night. And we, rather Dad dressed as Santa, gave her our gift last night.”

  “We can commandeer gifts from others that are suitable.” Turning around, she addressed Maddie. “Would you help Lizzie feed the kids while I treat myself to a soak in the tub before all the Christmas madness starts.”

  Maddie asked, “Didn’t you just—?”

  Sarah placed a finger to her lips.

  “Got it. Help Lizzie and mind my own business.”

  Sarah’s back was to me, but her eye roll was easy to detect without the benefit of sight.

  Maddie laughed.

  I made a quick sweep of the main floor to see if anyone else was up. Ethan stood in front of the unlit Christmas tree, looking as if he hadn’t slept in days.

  “Out of curiosity, did Casey ask Santa for any particular gifts?” I asked in a hushed tone.

  Ethan’s eyes fell to the floor. “A laptop.”

  “And…?”

  His eyes met mine. “What do you think?”

  “I think Santa heard her request.”

  He started to protest.

  I waved that it was useless. “I’m going to take advantage of your hangover and play the her mother isn’t here card. Besides, that happens to be one of the gifts we can accommodate at the drop of a hat.”

  “You just happen to have a brand-new laptop laying around?”

  “In a way. It’s for Allen, but he adores Casey so I doubt he’ll argue. I’m putting coffee on. You in?” I breezed by him on the way back to the kitchen. “Would you mind plugging in the tree? It’s Christmas morning, after all. Fa la la and all that hoopla.”

  He complied and then followed me. “You seem chipper for this early. I hate you.”

  �
�Aw, Merry Christmas to you too, buddy.” I winked at him.

  Maddie must have moved the kiddos and Casey to the dining room, where there was more space for the feeding frenzy.

  “Do you think we can make it to your house to pack some clothes or—?”

  He raised a hand and gave me the once-over. “You had sex, didn’t you? I doubly hate you.”

  I balked. “You hate sex.”

  “I hate couples who like each other these days, and having sex implies liking. Dare I even say love?”

  He had me there, but to help ease his worried mind, I decided to play the game. I darted my eyes upward. “It’s not even seven in the morning. Do you really think we got up super early to get our groove on? After the shitstorm of yesterday?”

  “You two, most definitely. The sickly-sweet couple with the perfect family.” He rocked on his heels, his arms crossed.

  “If you think the Petries are perfect, I really don’t want to meet your parents.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Come now. Lisa’s going to be thrilled to see you tonight. We should head out soon after opening the presents. Who knows what the roads will be like?”

  “It’s going to take a lot more than showing up.” He sighed and vamoosed.

  Unfortunately, he was correct, but baby steps had helped me in the past when I needed to get my life back together.

  Gabe walked in, his hands pressed together. “What can I help with?”

  “Have a man-to-man chat with Ethan.”

  He started to laugh but curbed it when he gathered I was serious. “Got it. I’ll go find him.”

  “My guess is the family room since Peter and Tie are in the library. And I suggest waiting for the coffee.”

  The two of us worked on getting caffeine flowing for all the adults. Part of me wouldn’t be surprised if Casey requested an espresso. The thought of her brain firing even more synapses worried me, though.

  Sarah, in jeans and a cable-knit sweater, yawned. “Morning, Gabe. How’d you sleep?”

  “Better than Ethan. She”—he jerked his thumb at me—“is making me have a mano-a-mano chat with him.” He grabbed two of the cups. “Wish me luck.”

  “Do I want to know?” Sarah scooped two spoons of sugar into her drink. This didn’t send me into a panic like it had yesterday because she treated herself to sugar on special days.

  “I’m thinking Ethan may snap before I take him to the airport.”

  She wrapped her arms around my waist. “That was sweet of you. To buy his ticket.”

  “He’d do the same for me if he could.”

  “True, but it does surprise me sometimes when you don’t need me to tell you what to do.”

  I laughed. “This is my thanks for this morning.”

  “Another round may get me to be a smidge nicer.”

  “I’ll see what I can work out. Maybe send the family out for a walk, and fingers crossed they’ll reenact the Donner Party.”

  She laughed.

  “I mentioned your idea of commandeering gifts for Casey. Ethan approved of Allen’s laptop.”

  “What about the printer?”

  “I spaced the printer, but they kinda go together so...” I shrugged, adding, “Besides, Casey really should have both. Everyone else was expected to return on Christmas morning, so we have gifts for them. Casey still believes in Santa. Let her keep a hold of her innocence for a little longer. God knows things may get rough in her house.”

  Sarah mulled this over, finally nodding her assent.

  “How much more coffee do we need?” I asked.

  “Mom, Troy, and their party are on their way on foot. They can’t get their car out of the snowbank Troy wedged it into last night. George will be over once the men dig a path.” She opened the pantry and pulled out a cardboard box. “This will help.”

  I read the label. “Plastic two pot airpot station. You’ve got to be kidding me. This isn’t a bank lobby. It’s our home.”

  “Don’t start. There will be thirteen adults. I don’t want to spend the entire morning fetching coffee for everyone.”

  “I don’t drink coffee.”

  “But you know where the tea stuff is.” She kissed my cheek. “I’m going to help Maddie get the twins in their outfits. Can I trust you with this?” She patted the top of the box but didn’t wait for a response before leaving.

  I opened the box and read the directions.

  The doorbell rang, but I allowed someone else to get it.

  Moments later, Peter’s booming voice in the living room caused a cold sensation. Were he and Tie already at each other’s throat before the first gift was unwrapped?

  I finished setting up the coffee station on the hutch in the dining room.

  “Lizzie!” Tie’s morning greeting was overly exuberant, coupled with her tossing her arms around me, giving each of my cheeks a sloppy kiss.

  Was she drunk?

  “Coffee?” I made a ta-da motion to the setup.

  “Would love some. Black, please.” She moved on to say hello to Maddie and the kids, including her own daughter, whom we were taking care of.

  “So much for the self-service station,” I muttered.

  “Complaining?” Sarah sidled up to me.

  “I think Tie’s drunk or acting weirder than normal. Also, she refused to make her own cup of coffee. Black coffee I might add. All she had to do was pour.” I reached for one of the containers and did exactly that.

  Sarah clasped her fingers around the locket. “Just keep replaying this morning in your head to get through the day.”

  I laughed. “You want me to think about sex with you while around the Petries?”

  “It’s how I’ve survived many fraught dinners.” She gave me a peck on the cheek and whirled around to greet her mom and Troy.

  Dad and Helen, blurry eyed and pale, approached, still in yesterday’s clothes but freshly showered.

  “I need to get something like this for the flower shops.” Helen eyed the coffee station from all angles. “Were did you find it?”

  “I’m assuming the behemoth we get packages from nearly every day.”

  “So do we,” Dad grumbled. Clearly the holiday spirit hadn’t bitten him yet.

  “Not all of us have a driver we can send out to get things.” Helen poured a cup, taking the creamer and sugar packets to the living room.

  “Trouble?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I… Does anyone deliver on Christmas? My gift didn’t go over well.”

  I sidled closer. “What’d you get her?”

  “Cooking classes,” he grumbled.

  I sucked in my lips. “Did she want them?”

  “Years ago, she mentioned it, but I don’t think she remembers, or quite possibly, she thinks the gift implied I wish she was more of a homemaker. So delivery…?” He shoved his hands into his pockets, rattling some coins.

  I did what Sarah suggested and thought of climbing on top of my wife’s body, feeling my skin on hers. The warmth. Love. Bliss. “I don’t know, but most stores probably deliver tomorrow. It’s never too late to make Helen happy.”

  He grunted, pouring a cup. “Is it possible to make a woman happy?”

  “From my experience, yes.” I smiled over the memory of giving Sarah her gift earlier.

  Dad followed my eyes to Sarah. “She’s a lovely woman.”

  “That she is. Yesterday, Peter told me she brings out the best in me.”

  “I agree with that assessment.”

  “I think Helen has for you.” I crossed my arms and rocked on my feet. “It’s difficult knowing you… got a second chance for a family with her, Allen, and Gabe, while Peter and I—well, you know it wasn’t easy in our house. With Mom. She hated me and used Peter. While I wish that had been different, I have to wonder what I would have done in your shoes had I’d met Sarah after getting married. Hopefully the right thing, but given all the moving parts—vindictive wife, two children, running a company—who can say for sure what the ri
ght thing is, really? Humans. We complicate the shit out of everything.” I sucked in a breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I think Helen was always the right fit for you and I’m happy you found her.”

  He stared at me, his mouth agape. “I should have done more. For you and Peter.”

  “It’s never too late. I’m right here. And Peter, he really needs a father right now.”

  He stared at me before wrapping his arms around me for a tight but brief squeeze. “Thank you, Lizzie. I’m continually amazed by how you turned out to be such a strong and loving woman. Even to those who hurt you. Including me.” He took a breath. “Would you excuse me?” He approached Peter across the room and gave him a hug.

  “My job here is done,” I said with a faint smile.

  While in the kitchen, Gandhi rushed up to me, jumping on my legs. I scooped him up into my arms and was rewarded with wet kisses. “At least someone is genuinely happy to see me this morning.”

  He squirmed, so I set him down, and he dashed off for his next victim.

  Casey tugged on my hand. “Is it time yet?”

  “Let’s go see if everyone is here.”

  She held onto my hand.

  In the living room, I spied three groups of people. Allen, Dad, Helen, and Peter, who was holding Demi, huddled near the door to the veranda. George, Tie, and Maddie were stationed next to the fire, which was already going. Sarah and Troy, each with a twin on one of their hips, stood with Rose.

  No Ethan or Gabe, who had cleared a path for George but clearly had decamped to the library now that Peter and Tie were on the loose.

  I made eye contact with Sarah, who handed off Fred to Maddie and said, “Casey, can you help me get the gifts ready this morning?”

  Casey dashed over to Sarah, and I headed for the library—command central when shit hit the fan.

  Before entering, I peeked in to gauge the situation.

  The men sat on opposing couches, not speaking, remnants of sheets and blankets shoved on the carpet.

  So much for mano-a-mano.

  I knocked on the open door, my head poking around. “Everyone is here. Are you two ready for gifts?”

  Gabe stood and stretched his hands over his head, tugging his T-shirt above his pajama bottoms, showing his abs. I was certain he’d changed back into his pajamas after shoveling, more than likely since his jeans were wetter than wet given the amount of snow. “Try to stop me.”