A Wish for Christmas (15 page)

David hardly spoke two words to his father during the ride home. Every muscle still ached. He went straight to his room for a rest before dinner.

David tossed around for a while on his bed, trying to get comfortable. No use. Though he was exhausted, he couldn’t sleep. The pain was too much.

He leaned over and shook a capsule from a bottle then drank some water from the glass on his nightstand. He closed his eyes again and let his head sink into the pillow. The pills weren’t that strong, and even though the doctor would have given him something stronger, he didn’t want to get dependent on medication.

But it wasn’t just the pain that chased sleep away. David didn’t want to watch the images that floated into his head whenever he closed his eyes. Images of combat, the sound of gunfire, the flare of rockets and fiery explosions as they struck in all directions. The way the landscape looked afterward, torn and smoldering, the buildings knocked to pieces, as if they were built of toy blocks and kicked down by an angry child. And all through the rubble, the bodies scattered like broken dolls, torn and bleeding, carelessly tossed aside.

If only the doctor had a pill that could erase the tapes in his brain, he would ask for that one. David turned his head to the side and finally fell asleep.

 

 

 

KATE CAME TO WAKE HIM, GENTLY TAPPING HIS HEAD WITH HER favorite stuffed toy. It was a funny sensation and David swatted the air, feeling caught in a swarm of insects.

Kate’s small whispering voice finally roused him. “David, wake up now.”

“Oh, hello, Lester.” David took the stuffed rabbit and sat him up on his chest. “Were those your ears tickling my nose? Or . . .” He turned the rabbit around, and made the animal do a little dance. “. . . that big old tail?”

Kate giggled. “It was his ears, silly. I wouldn’t stick his tail in your face.”

“Well, thanks.” David smiled, handed the rabbit back to her, and sat up.

“Your hair is sticking up all crazy, David. You need a haircut,” Kate told him.

He glanced in the mirror. “Yeah, I do.”

“I can do it,” she offered. “I cut my doll’s hair all the time.”

He laughed. “Nice. What does your mom say about that?”

“She says not to do it, because it won’t grow back,” Kate answered, looking very serious.

“I bet you give great haircuts. But I need to see a barber. You know, just for guys.”

“Oh . . . okay.” She tucked Lester under her arm and headed for the door. “Mommy said the food is on the table.”

David’s nose confirmed that message. Dinner smelled good, and he had worked up a real appetite today.

Kate disappeared, and he went into the bathroom, splashed his face with cold water, and combed his hair. The pain in his leg was building, probably from the extra activity. He took two ibuprofen pills, not wanting to take anything stronger. He was trying to get away from the meds. They helped in one way, putting the pain at a distance, muffling it in cottony wads, but the rest of the world went with it and that wasn’t helping him any, he decided.

When he got out to the kitchen, his father and Kate were at the table, and Julie was ladling out dishes of beef stew. He set the walker aside and practically dropped in his seat, accidentally rocking the table. Jack reached out and grabbed Kate’s glass of milk before it tipped over.

“Whoa there,” Jack said, making Katie laugh.

David felt embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“You must be tired from the therapy session. You were there a long time.” Julie set a dish of stew in front of him. It looked really good, but he suddenly didn’t feel that hungry. The ache in his hip was stealing his appetite.

“Yeah, how did the therapy go today?” Jack asked. “You didn’t say.”

“Oh, you know. You warm up for a while and then she makes you do exercises—for core strength and others to build the leg muscles.”

Julie leaned over to help Kate cut her food. “Is it hard, getting started again?”

“Yeah, it’s hard. It’s very hard.” David didn’t mean to snap at her, but it was sort of a dumb question, wasn’t it?

“Of course it is,” she said quickly. “What a question. . . . Do you like the new therapist?”

David didn’t answer right away. He pushed at a bite of food with his fork. “She has her pluses and minuses. I’ll have to see how it works out.”

Julie seemed concerned by his reply. “Can you change therapists if you don’t like her?”

Before David could answer, his father jumped into the conversation. “It’s important that you like the person, don’t you think?”

David stared down at his food and let out a frustrated sigh. He didn’t need all these questions right now. He was tired and in pain, and he had been thinking about little else but this issue for days.

He didn’t know why, but they both just got under his skin.

“Actually,” he said, “I don’t think it matters squat if I like the person or don’t like them. I’m not looking for a best friend, you know? Just somebody who’s good at what they do and can get me out of this walker.”

He could see both his father and Julie shrink back, their expressions growing tense. Jack picked up a forkful of noodles and continued eating. Julie looked grim, and even Kate looked confused, staring around at the adults as if she was wondering why everyone was so quiet.

Jack took a sip of water and cleared his throat. “Good point,” he said finally. “As long as you see improvement, that’s all that counts.”

“Mommy, I’m done. Can I watch TV?” Kate asked.

Julie leaned over and looked at Kate’s plate. “You didn’t eat your vegetables. There, hidden under the noodles.”

David saw them, too, carrots and peas, cleverly tucked under the leftover noodles.

“Hey, pal. You need to eat those,” David encouraged her. “Lester likes carrots. He eats them for dessert instead of cookies.”

“He can have mine,” Kate offered.

This generous impulse made the adults laugh. “I’ll tell you what—if you finish everything on your plate, I’ll play a game with you,” David said.

The deal definitely caught Kate’s interest. Julie smiled a silent thank-you at him.

“Candy Land?” Kate asked eagerly.

David sighed. He hated Candy Land. He always pulled a card that got him stuck on Gum Drop Mountain. But he was too tired tonight for hide-and-seek, Kate’s other favorite.

“No problem. Whatever you like.”

“But you have to eat a few more carrots,” Jack reminded her.

“And drink your milk,” Julie chimed in. Then she glanced at David’s plate. “You hardly touched your food. Would you like me to fix you something else?”

David shook his head. Julie had enough work around here without fixing him special orders, as if it were a restaurant.

“No thanks. The stew is great,” he replied quickly. He turned his attention back to his plate, then caught Kate’s eye and winked.

He knew his foul moods upset the household at times, a household that before his return had been a picture of harmony. But when a dark wave hit, he couldn’t see it coming and he couldn’t control it.

Though Julie treated him with unfaltering kindness and sympathy, he could tell that his presence here was causing tension between her and Jack. The last thing he wanted to do was create problems in his father’s new marriage.

David glanced over at his dad. It was bad enough his own life was messed up. He didn’t have to spread his unhappiness around, like some contagious disease.

The sooner he recovered and got out on his own the better.

Better for everyone.

 

 

WHEN THE SHOW ON THE HISTORY CHANNEL ENDED AND THE CREDITS appeared on the screen, Lillian shut off the TV. She didn’t believe in random viewing. She chose her shows carefully from the weekly guide, then turned off the television.

“Well, that was very interesting. I’d love to go back to Egypt someday,” Ezra said. “It’s one of the most exciting places in the world to visit.”

Ezra was an amateur Egyptologist. He knew more about the subject than anyone Lillian had ever met, and in the days before her marriage, she had been an assistant curator of the Egyptian department in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.

Ezra had been to Egypt twice and knew every treasure in the collections of the Metropolitan Museum in New York and the British Museum in London. There were probably more ancient artifacts in those two institutions than remained in the entire Mediterranean. Still, to actually walk in the footsteps of the ancient kings would be exciting, Lillian had to agree.

She set down her teacup on the end table. “I wouldn’t wait much longer to make your travel plans. Not at our age.”

Ezra laughed. “Good point. You can’t put these things off. Why don’t you come with me, Lily? Can’t you see yourself floating down the Nile on a barge? Just like Cleopatra,” he teased.

“What a picture.” She let out a long breath and shook her head. “Maybe I will visit the Sahara. And stay there,” she added curtly. “My daughters would be pleased to learn I’d settled in some cozy tomb or pyramid.”

“Your daughters? What do they have to do with it?”

Lillian briefly related the debate she’d had with Jessica and Emily that morning. “They had it all planned out. They cornered me,” she complained. “When I wouldn’t give in, Emily threatened me. She said they would sell the house right out from under me, and I would have to go live with one of them.”

“My, my . . . the vipers. What horrid children, Lillian.” Ezra’s tone was laced with sarcastic sympathy. “They want to take care of you? They want you to live with them? What an outrageous threat. It’s blackmail. It’s . . . parental abuse. Maybe there’s some hotline you can call.”

Lillian glared at him. “Easy for you to say. No one is handing you ultimatums. Do this, do that, or we’ll take your house away.”

Ezra leaned toward Lillian’s chair. “I agree their tactics are extreme. But perhaps these threats are necessary to get your attention?” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I think your daughters are rightfully concerned about you. Would it be the end of the world to hire someone to help with the housework and watch over your well-being? It’s not just a good idea, Lily, but a necessary one if you plan to stay here.”

“Yes, yes, that’s what they both say, over and over and over again.” Lillian stared down at the carpet, a sulky expression on her face.

“Your daughters have busy lives, just as it should be. Children and husbands. Jobs and responsibilities. You can’t expect them to be here every day, doing for you—or drop everything when you have the least little problem.”

“When do I ever ask them to drop everything for me?”

Ezra tilted his head back and laughed. “You’re not seriously asking me that question, are you?”

“If I call upon them once in a great while, is that a crime? Does that mean I must employ some meddling somebody, hovering over me? Some dreadfully annoying babysitter and bodyguard? Is that how I’m supposed to endure my final days in this world?”

“Why must you paint such a grim picture? I’ll give you an even grim mer one, if you like. You get your way and remain all alone in this house, no bothersome intrusions. You fall again, the way you did three years ago. You were lucky that time, Lily. Sara came by and found you,” he reminded her. “But what if no one had come? You would have been lying there for hours, possibly days . . .”

Before she could come back with a clever reply, he added, “Anyone with common sense would realize that they dodged a bullet that time. You might not be so lucky if you cling to this foolish notion of total independence and it happens again.”

Lillian shifted in her seat. It had been awful to fall like that and lie there in pain, so helpless, wondering if anyone would come. She hated to think about it.

She drew in a long, shaky breath. “Thank you, Ezra. I think you’ve made your point.”

“Have I really?” he persisted. “I don’t think I’ve changed your mind any. Look at me, Lily. I have a live-in housekeeper who’s been with me now for years. Mrs. Fallon is a lovely woman, does everything for me. I couldn’t survive without her. What’s so wrong with that, can you tell me, please?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Lillian snapped back sharply. “If it makes you happy, I say, bravo.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Ezra replied with disgust.

“Really, Ezra. I hope you and your housekeeper are very happy together. Why don’t you take
her
to Egypt? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m tired. I think you had better go.”

Ezra stood up, gave her one last exasperated look, and headed for the front door. “Now that you mention it, I’m tired, too. Tired of arguing with you, Lillian. You’ve worn me out.”

She felt her cheeks get warm at this, though she didn’t know why. What did she care about Ezra’s opinion? She never did and never would.

He paused at the entrance to the foyer and glanced back at her. “I’ve known you all of my adult life, Lily. You’re one of the most intelligent women I’ve ever met—and easily, the most pigheaded. Don’t you get it? We’re all concerned about you.”

Lillian stared straight ahead. “Can I show you out?” she asked in her frostiest tone.

“Don’t trouble yourself. I know the way out by now. I’ll be sure to lock the front door. Please check the side door before you go to bed and put the alarm on.”

“Yes, Ezra, I will. Good night now.”

“Good night, Lillian.”

She sat in the parlor, listening as he put on his coat and hat then firmly closed the front door behind him.

She could tell by the way he had said good night that he wasn’t really mad at her. He would be over it by tomorrow. That’s the way he was, fortunately.

For goodness’ sake, she had expected more sympathy from him when she told him how Jessica and Emily had cornered her. But she didn’t want Ezra angry at her, too, when she was really all alone here.