An Island Christmas (2 page)

Jilly nodded, even though Nicole couldn’t see her. “You’re right, Nicole. I should be grateful I have one daughter who lives nearby and calls me almost every day for a chat.”

“Plus, you lucky duck, she’s given you two adorable grandchildren.”

Jilly paused. After a moment, she confessed, “You’re right again. But you know what, Nicole? Secretly, I’m the worst grandmother in the world.”

“What are you talking about?” Nicole asked, surprised.

Jilly was practically whispering, as if Lauren were standing outside the door. “I adore Lawrence and Portia. When I visit them in Boston, we have a great time. But even though they’re six and four, they’re like wild beasts.”

Nicole chuckled. “Calves in the china cupboard?”

“In this house, yes. Well, some of our furniture belonged to my grandmother. Imagine how old those pieces are! Some of the other pieces George and I paid a pretty penny for at auctions. When we were younger it was our dream to have an elegant home. George’s grandparents left him so many precious objects—porcelain bowls, Tiffany lamps, Limoges vases, figurines. We had to keep them all in storage.
We couldn’t put them out when our children lived with us, and it’s been utterly rejuvenating to restore and decorate this house together. It’s made us closer than we were when we were raising the children.”

“You’re not a bad grandmother because you want to have nice things,” Nicole assured Jilly. “At our age, we deserve to have our home look the way we want it to look. You raised two children and had your house filled with everything from high chairs to hockey sticks. You have every right to make your house look as perfect as it does. It gives you great pleasure.”

“Aha!” Jilly laughed. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to use psychology on me. You’re trying to make me accept that I have to let Felicia live her own life the way she wants to.”

“That’s not what I said, but it’s true, don’t you think?”

“I guess you’re right,” Jilly conceded. “It’s difficult, Nicole, to feel so much closer to one daughter than the other. It makes me feel guilty. But Lauren has always been just like me. She used to follow me around everywhere, pretending to help me cook and changing her baby dolls the way she saw me change Felicia. Felicia preferred riding her bike or climbing trees. I fought more with Felicia, too, especially when she was in high school. Those ripped jeans? I had to clench my jaw to keep from screaming. I’m lucky I have any teeth left.”

“Well, you do have all your teeth, and love is wide and deep, and Felicia is not only coming for Christmas, she
wants to be married on the island. I’d say you did a pretty good job with both your girls.” In the background clinking noises sounded. “I’ve got to go. Cookies to bake, packages to wrap.”

“Me, too. I think my project for today will be to go around the house and remove all the breakable objects, and even some of the more fragile antique furniture.”

“Don’t forget the bedrooms,” Nicole advised.

“As if I could!” Last Christmas, five-year-old Lawrence had somehow managed to crack the spindles on an 1850 Windsor fruitwood armchair in his bedroom. “Maybe I’ll buy some of those plastic outdoor chairs and put them around,” she suggested with a chortle. “Nicole, thanks for the talk. You’re the best.”

Jilly hung up the phone and rubbed her hands together. She had some serious plotting to do.

2
 

At the same time that Jilly was talking to her friend Nicole in Nantucket, Jilly’s daughters, almost an entire continent apart, were talking to each other on their cells.

Lauren was in the family room of her large faux Colonial house on two acres in suburban Boston. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said. “Archie is giving you a
bike
for a wedding present?”

In their tiny apartment above a bookshop in Moab, Utah, Felicia snorted with exasperation and ran her hand through her cropped easy-care hair. “You don’t even have a clue. It’s a Cannondale trail bike, lightweight and—”

“I’m happy for you both,” Lauren interrupted, “so can you be nice to Mom for once?”

“How much nicer can I be?” Felicia asked plaintively. “Archie and I are going to fly all the way to Nantucket for our wedding. His mother will have to fly up from Florida, but none of our friends will be able to come, because they’ll be in their own homes or their parents’ homes for Christmas.”

“It was your idea to have the wedding on Christmas Day, after all,” Lauren reminded her sister. “I don’t understand why you’re in such a rush. Are you pregnant?”

“No, I am definitely not pregnant. Archie doesn’t want us to have kids. The planet is already overpopulated. We have to think of the planet.”

“Of course you do. So why the quickie marriage?”

“Archie and I joined a special hiking tour of the Himalayas and if we’re married, we’ll be entitled to our own private tent. It’s part of the tour policy.”

“Well, that’s certainly a romantic reason for getting married.”

Felicia could imagine her sister rolling her eyes. “You
know
Archie and I have been planning marriage for a couple of years now. This just seems like the right time. Come on, Lauren, you have to remember how much I did to keep Mom happy when I was in high school.”

Lauren snorted. “You mean when you campaigned to join the boys’ ice hockey team?”

“Hey, I was better on the ice than any of those klutzy boys. No,” Felicia argued, “I mean when I took ballet for four years when I wanted to play soccer. I mean all those years when I went to the prom wearing silly frilly dresses and makeup that made my face feel like it was coated with rubber. I mean wearing that froufrou maid of honor dress at your wedding when I nearly broke my ankle tottering along in those ridiculous high heels.”

“You could hardly walk down the aisle in the church
wearing those clodhopper hiking boots you clomp around in,” Lauren said, but without much emotion. This was a discussion they’d had many times before.

“Look, Lauren, you can’t turn a cheetah into a house cat and you can’t turn me into a model.”

“I never said you could. What I’m saying is that if you could lower your standards a smidgen and allow Mom to have the Norman Rockwell Christmas wedding she longs for, it might go a long way toward helping her accept your marriage to Archie.”

Felicia, always restless when cooped up inside, jumped up off their thrift shop sofa and began to pace. “That might never happen. Archie’s like Rob Roy and Mom’s like Martha Stewart. Last year when Mom and Dad came out to visit us, Mom was all Queen Elizabeth, turning up her nose at our apartment, as if we were living out of cardboard boxes.”

“Didn’t you eat out of cardboard boxes?” Lauren couldn’t help teasing.

“You are totally loving all this, aren’t you?” Felicia accused. “Yes, we did eat out of cardboard boxes because the nights Dad didn’t take us out to dinner, we had pizza or take-out Chinese like we always do. Archie doesn’t expect me to serve him a four course meal every night, complete with the proper wine.”

“It’s not the superficial stuff that worries Mom,” Lauren said gently. “It’s more the values stuff. Like the importance of family.”

“Come on, there are all kinds of families. His parents
got divorced when he was young, and a few years ago his father died. But Archie and his mom are still a family,” Felicia said defiantly. “I think his mom’s totally awesome. She worked as a soccer coach and gym teacher at a girls’ school in South Carolina and raised Archie all by herself.”

“Okay. I respect that. Still, you have to admit that Archie doesn’t really fit into our family. We stay in one place for generations. Archie is a vagabond. And he’s turning you into one.”

“In the first place,” argued Felicia, “I’ve always wanted to travel. In the second place, Archie isn’t turning me into anything except a very happy woman. In the third place, we have both worked our tails off as white-water rafting guides for the last five years to save money for this trip. If that isn’t behaving responsibly and reliably, what is?”

“Fine,” Lauren said. “Let’s talk about the wedding. I have an idea I think you’ll like. Let
me
be in charge.”

“This is the sound of me trying not to scream,” Felicia said.

“Come on, think about it. Who used to give her dolls weddings? Who thinks the way Mom does? I’ve already made some notes. The ceremony will be at St. Paul’s Church. The reception will be at home. You should wear a plain white satin dress, and a red velvet cloak.”

“I’ll look like Little Red Riding Hood,” Felicia objected.

Lauren continued unfazed. “Archie’s last name is Galloway. I’ve already checked the tartan book. His pattern is mostly green. Does he have a kilt?”

“You bet Archie has his own kilt. He’s so proud of his Scottish heritage I’m just grateful he doesn’t play bagpipes.”

“Fabulous. He can wear his kilt with all the trappings and you can wear a red velvet sash around your waist—”

“And a poinsettia in my hair.” Felicia snorted.

“I’m considering having your dress trimmed with white faux fur on the cuffs and hem. I’ll definitely loan you my diamond earrings.”

“I don’t have pierced ears.”

“Of course you don’t. Fine. I’ll think of something else. The point is, I can make all the arrangements. Mother will enjoy working with me on the color scheme—”

“Our wedding will have a color scheme? This is a nightmare.”

“Not if you let me take care of it. I can plan it all from soup to nuts. I already know what size you wear. Mom and I can plan the decorations for the house and the menus. I’m sure she’ll want to invite a few of her own friends and some of the friends you went to school with.”

“No, it wouldn’t be fair to Archie if I had my friends there and he didn’t have any. It’s sad enough that his father’s dead and he’s an only child. Let’s keep it simple. Please. I want a calm, quiet, brief ceremony.”

“Fine, then. But will you let me be in charge of the details?”

Felicia felt totally itchy. She idolized her older sister while at the same time she couldn’t stand being around
Lauren for more than a few days. Lauren, like their mother, was a perfectionist. Felicia had thought that when Lauren had her two children she would loosen up and that had sort of happened. But Lauren still didn’t comprehend the way Felicia thought. If Lauren was an A, Felicia was a Z. If Felicia and Archie had their way, they’d be married outdoors in the sunshine, standing beneath Delicate Arch. They would be wearing hiking clothes and if Felicia carried flowers, they would be Indian paintbrush and Arizona daisies.

But Felicia loved her mother and knew how important this occasion was for her.

“I surrender. This is very nice of you, Lauren, and I know you’ll make Mom happy. Are you sure you’ll have time to make the arrangements and take care of your own Christmas, too?”

“Absolutely! This is the sort of project that invigorates me. Oh, Felicia, it’s going to be so much fun.”

“I certainly hope so,” Felicia said doubtfully.

The moment she clicked off her cell, Felicia stuck it in her khaki shorts pocket, opened the apartment door, and thundered down the stairs to the street. She had to go out in the sunshine and walk. She had known this wedding business would drive her mad.

The crazy thing was that Felicia cherished Christmas on Nantucket. She always had. She loved the small town atmosphere, the security of nearby neighbors as the dark winter drew nearer. When she was younger, her parents
first bought their home on the island. She’d enjoyed being an angel in the Christmas pageant the year their next-door neighbors played Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. That was probably the only time in her life Felicia was considered an angel. The Christmas parties back then were noisy, giddy fun, and her mother’s Christmas Eve and Christmas Day meals were gastronomical delights, not to mention the adorable Christmas cookies Felicia and Lauren always baked, giggling and eating the icing as they worked.

Archie had never been to the island, and that was another reason Felicia wanted to have their wedding there, so she could show him the landscape she knew so well. But the main reason was to make her mother happy. She adored her mother and realized her tomboyishness disappointed Jilly. This was the best present she could think of. Her dad would like it, too, although he was much more mellow about everything.

Maybe her dad could convince her mother that once Felicia was married, she would have her own life with Archie, and she should be free to live it as she wanted.

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