A Wish for Christmas (13 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

“
D
AD, LOOK WHAT I FOUND. IT’S PERFECT.” GRACE HEGMAN practically ran right up the full flight of stairs. She entered the apartment over her shop a bit winded.

Her father sat in the parlor in his favorite wingback chair, reading the newspaper. It was nearly eleven, time to open the shop, but he could no longer handle that duty on his own.

Grace wasn’t worried. Wednesday was the slowest day of the week, even during the Christmas season. Besides, they had important business to discuss right here. A treasure had dropped into her hands this morning, and they needed to do something about it.

“What is it, Grace? You seem so excitable lately.” Digger put down the newspaper, greeting her with a curious stare.

She tugged loose the silk scarf tied at her neck with one hand, the other hand digging into the pocket of her jacket.

“Here, read this card, Dad. Just what we’re looking for.” Grace handed down an index card, a message written in neat, block letters.

Digger wore his glasses but still held the card at arm’s length to read aloud. “Refrigerator wanted. Any age or condition. If it runs, we’ll take it. . . .”

Grace saw his eyes widen first, then his smile. “Good work, Gracie. Where the devil did you find this?”

Grace felt pleased by his praise. She slipped off her jacket and sat on the antique couch, a velvet-covered camelback with claw feet. “I was over at church this morning, dropping something off for the Christmas Fair. I was just walking out when I took a look at the bulletin board, and there it was, stuck right in the middle. As if someone had planted it there on purpose, for me to see. I wasn’t sure if I should take it home. But I had no pen or pencil handy to copy the phone number. And I didn’t want anyone else to see it and call and maybe offer that family some old hunk of junk—when we could buy a nice, new fridge for them.”

“Good thinking.” Digger dipped his white head in agreement. “You did the right thing. We’ve got this covered.”

“Yes, we do. Or we will very soon.” Grace smoothed down her cardigan sweater. “So, when shall we go shopping?”

“How about tonight, right after you close up?”

Normally, Grace planted herself in the Bramble from sunup to sun-down. The antique store, taking care of her father, and church were the three compass points that defined her life. They were usually more than enough to keep her busy and content. But this morning it felt as if five o’clock were days away. She couldn’t wait to buy this important gift and know it would soon be delivered.

She glanced at her watch then back at her father. “I think we should go right now. Get it over with. There’s a big appliance store on the turnpike. The salespeople are pretty helpful, and I bet the place is empty in the middle of the day. If we wait until tonight, it will be more crowded and confusing.”

Lately, her father didn’t do too well in a big noisy place like an appliance store. That was also a consideration.

“What about the shop? Your customers?”

“Oh, nobody comes by this early on a Wednesday, and we won’t be gone long. If we go right now, we’ll be back in an hour or so. I’ll put a note on the door.”

“All right. If you say so.” Digger rose from the chair and jingled the change in his pocket. It was a welcome sound. She knew he only did that when he was happy. “Now, don’t forget, we need a wad of that money.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll run down and grab some before we go. I can look up the Miller family’s address in the church directory, for the delivery.”

Grace put her jacket back on and picked up her purse. Her father found his big wool peacoat and stocking cap on the bentwood coat tree that stood on the landing.

When he was dressed, he stood with his shoulders back, waiting for Grace’s attention. “So, do I look like Santa Claus?”

Grace looked him over. “Not quite. But you’re getting there.”

 

 

“YOU KNOW I DON’T EAT CAULIFLOWER, JESSICA. IT DOESN’T AGREE WITH me, never has.” Lillian removed the offending vegetable from the plastic shopping bag and handed it to her daughter. “Here, take this home for your children. They need the vitamins.”

Jessica set the cauliflower aside and tried to finish unloading the bags of groceries as quickly—and as surreptitiously—as she could. Her mother had sent her off with a very detailed list but somehow, by the time Jessica returned with the requested items, Lillian’s needs and preferences had changed.

Amazing, Jessica thought. She turned to see her mother slipping on her reading glasses in order to scrutinize the label on a box of muesli cereal. It was the same brand her mother had been eating all her life, or at least since Jessica had been a child. She was sure her mother could recite the information on that label by heart. Still, Lillian looked positively engrossed.

“This doesn’t have as much fiber as I thought.” Lillian peered up at her daughter. “Is this a different type from the one I usually get?”

“No, Mother. The exact same. I don’t think they make any other type of that stuff.” Jessica had tried eating it once. It tasted like bark scraped off a tree.

“Hmm.” Lillian put the box down, looking unconvinced. “Take out the one Sara bought for me. I want to compare the labels.”

Jessica found the cereal box and handed it to her mother, all the while suppressing a smile. If only Sara were here now to see this. Jessica knew the irony of it would not be lost on her dear niece. For three years, poor Sara had put up with her grandmother’s grocery inspections and now, suddenly, everything Sara had bought was the high-water mark, the very standard, of Lillian’s needs.

Jessica had arrived early. She had done some picking up around the house and two loads of laundry before going out to do the shopping, which was taking forever to unpack.

She wanted to get home before Tyler got home from school, but she needed to make her mother lunch and then make her something for dinner and leave it in the fridge.

These were but a few of the tasks for a housekeeper or home aide. There was a growing list of them—if someone would be allowed to write it all down without starting World War III, Jessica thought.

A knock sounded on the side door. Right on time, Jessica thought.

“Who’s that? I’m not expecting anyone.” Lillian looked over to the door where they saw Emily standing outside, waiting to be let in.

“Hmmph.” Lillian made an irritated sound. “Doesn’t she have a key? And what is she doing here at this time of day?”

Her mother was right. It was only a few minutes past eleven, an unlikely time for Emily to visit.

“She must have been in the neighborhood and just wanted to say hello.” Jessica walked over to open the door for her sister.

Jessica knew why her sister hadn’t used her key. They both knew their mother disliked it. The keys were supposed to be saved for emergencies. Lillian felt it was a sign of bad manners, even disrespect, when they came “barging” in, unannounced.

“Hello, Mother,” Emily said cheerfully. “Hi, Jess. Did you just get back from shopping? I’m glad I didn’t miss you.”

“It only looks that way. She’s been back awhile now,” Lillian noted, casting a look at Jessica—one that said,
It’s taking you an awfully long time to put away these groceries today, isn’t it?

If her mother didn’t question every can or box that came out of the bags, the stuff would have been stored hours ago, Jessica wanted to explain.

Fortunately, there was no need to explain anything to Emily. Her sister knew exactly what had been going on here.

Emily picked up the head of cauliflower from the counter.

“Fresh vegetables. Very healthy,” she said.

“Not that one, it disagrees horribly. I don’t know how it found its way into the cart. Would you like to take it home?” Lillian offered. “It’s up for grabs, an orphan cauliflower.”

Jessica ignored their mother. “Want some coffee, Em? I just made a pot.”

“I would love a cup, thanks.” Emily took off her coat and sat down at the table.

“So, what brings you around at this time of day, Emily? Why aren’t you running some important meeting? Or solving the village crisis du jour?”

“The crisis du jour has been solved, Mother,” Emily said lightly. “So I gave everyone at village hall the rest of the day off.”

“Hah.” Her mother gave a mocking laugh. “I sincerely doubt that.”

Jessica served Emily a cup of coffee and offered one to her mother.

“None for me, thank you.” Lillian held out her hand, like a crossing guard. “I’m elated enough, finding both my devoted daughters here so . . . coincidentally. Isn’t this an unexpected pleasure?”

Emily sipped her coffee, her eyes wide and innocent looking.

Jessica fixed her own cup at the counter, not ready yet to join them. Ninety-nine percent warm milk with just a spoonful of decaf. That was one thing she hated about being pregnant, cutting out coffee. Some women never went back but she would never get used to doing without.

Finally, she sat down at the table and took a sip, glancing at Emily over the rim. Their mother had definitely caught the scent of something. Lillian was like a finely bred hunting dog. She wouldn’t give up until she tracked down her prey.

“Sara called last night. She sounded very happy,” Emily reported. “Everything’s going well at work, and they’re almost unpacked. Luke is building some bookcases for her in the spare bedroom.”

“Building bookcases?” Lillian scoffed. “Didn’t he find a job yet?”

“He just interviewed on Monday, Mother. Even if he gets the job, it’s going to take a little while to find out.”

“Well, she can’t say I didn’t warn her. If he would rather build bookcases than look for a paying job, I say that’s cause for concern. She never told me anything about bookcases,” Lillian added with a touch of indignation.

“So you’ve spoken to Sara, too?” Jessica said.

“Of course I’ve spoken to her.” Lillian tugged the edges of the cardigan that was draped over her shoulders. “I’ve spoken with her several times since she moved.”

Jessica cast Emily a look. Their mother could go weeks without calling either one of them, unless she needed to report one of her emergencies. But she obviously had been calling Sara.

“I guess you miss them, don’t you?” Emily asked bluntly.

“Miss them? Not one bit,” Lillian insisted. “I was just concerned for her. You seem to think anything that knuckleheaded husband of hers does is just hunky-dory. Someone has to look out for her welfare. I told her not to rent in a bad neighborhood and to be very careful about signing any long-term lease.”

“The neighborhood is lovely, Mother. It’s Cambridge, for goodness’ sake,” Jessica assured her.

“Well then, case closed.” Lillian shrugged. “I won’t give those two another thought. Honestly, I much prefer the solitude, the blessed peace and quiet. I can hear myself think again.” She looked at each of her daughters in turn. “You have no idea what a racket they would make, with their music and TV shows. Cooking in here at night, banging pots and pans.”

Emily glanced at Jessica, a silent signal that their mother was leading them way off track. They had a plan and needed to stick with it, or this afternoon’s sneak attack would be another victory for Lillian.

“Mother, I don’t believe you,” Emily challenged her. “I’m sure that you miss both of them, banging pots and pans and all.”

When their mother just sat back with a frown, Jessica saw a chance to speak up and help the cause. “It’s only logical that after three years you would miss them, Mother. And everything they used to do for you.”

“Why is it logical? I never asked them to stay with me. It was a complete intrusion to have them living here.” She turned to Emily. “Why, the only reason your daughter and her layabout husband came to live here was entirely for their benefit. They had no place else to go, so out of the goodness of my heart, I took them in.”

Emily sighed loudly. “Mother, please, that was not the way it was at all, and you know it. You were in the hospital after your fall, and the doctor wanted you to go into a rehabilitation center, but you refused. He told us you could only go home with live-in help, meaning a nurse. But you refused that, too. And Sara offered to stay with you, because you were so stubborn and unhappy and had to come home on your own terms. You can’t rewrite history. That’s how it was, Mother.”

Lillian’s head snapped back as if she were sailing into a strong wind. “Balderdash. That’s not how I remember it, not at all. For a relatively young person, you don’t have a very good memory, Emily.”

Jessica saw her sister’s face go red. She reached over and squeezed Emily’s hand. Jessica had always disliked confrontations, especially arguments with their mother. Emily was much better at it. All through her childhood, whenever the two of them butted heads, Jessica had lain low. But today, she had to stand with her sister. She couldn’t let Emily take on this lioness in her den, all alone.

“Listen, we can sit here and argue all day about why Sara and Luke came to live here,” Jessica said in a reasonable tone. “The point we’re trying to make, Mother, is that they are gone now. Totally gone. And now you’re alone and need some help around here.”

“Exactly,” Emily agreed. “That’s the point we’re trying to make. Maybe you didn’t really need their help a few years ago, when they first came, but you certainly need some help now.”

“Just a few hours a day,” Jessica added. “Someone to help you keep the house in order, to go shopping and cook for you.”

“I see. To relieve both of you of your jobs, you mean?” Lillian said shrewdly.

“We’ll still come all the time. You know that. But we can’t always be here when you need us,” Emily answered her. “Once Jessica has her baby, it’s going to be even harder for her to rush right over when you call or stay all day to help you. And she’ll have to bring the baby with her.”