Songs of Christmas (11 page)

Ezra sat back against his pillows, looking a bit frustrated but not all that put out by Lillian’s dramatic exit. “She needs some time alone,” he said. “The last few days have been difficult for her, with me getting sick like this. And she knows she can’t care for me on her own. It’s been a lot of stress for your mother. I worry about her.”

That was just like Ezra, too, to worry about her mother when he was the one who really needed care.

“All the more reason to get some good, live-in help here,” Emily replied.

Ezra nodded. “No argument here, Emily. Believe me.”

Before Emily could answer, Jessica appeared with a woman who had to be Estrella. She was very pretty, Emily thought, guessing her to be in her midthirties. She had fine features, high cheekbones, and dark eyes. Dimples showed in each cheek as she smiled hello. Her thick, dark hair was pulled back in a bun, and she wore small gold earrings and a gold wedding band.

She had already taken off her coat but carried a large handbag with a manila folder tucked in the outside pocket. Her résumé and references, Emily hoped. She wasn’t wearing a uniform, but a blue sweater set and black pants. Tasteful and conservative.

Even her mother would have approved, Emily thought, if she had troubled herself to be in the room.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Estrella,” Ezra said. “Thank you for coming over on such short notice.”

“Thank you for getting in touch with me. I’m happy to help if I can,” she replied politely, deep dimples appearing in her cheeks.

Ezra was totally charmed, Emily could tell. He sat up a little higher and smiled back, looking over Estrella’s résumé. “Let’s see . . . so you came to the US seven years ago, and have mainly been working in health care,” he began.

“I take other types of jobs in between, if I can’t find a home-health position. But that’s what I’m trained to do. I was a nurse in a cardiac care unit at a hospital in El Salvador for almost ten years, before coming here. But I haven’t been able to get certified in nursing again. It’s complicated. My English wasn’t good at first. It’s been . . . frustrating,” she admitted.

“Yes, I imagine it must be,” Jessica said sympathetically.

“Where did you work last? Here in town?”

Estrella described her last position. She had worked in the home of a family Emily knew, the Gilmores. George Gilmore, who was about her mother’s age, had recently passed away from heart failure and other complications. George had been living with his son Tom’s family, and Estrella moved in to care for him during his final days.

It would be easy to get a frank, detailed reference from the Gilmores, Emily thought. She could call Mary or Tom this morning. Estrella spoke with a slight accent, Emily noticed, but was very fluent in English. Her mother wouldn’t be able to complain about any communication problem, though she’d probably try.

“So you’re able to live in. That will work out for you?” Emily asked, wanting to make sure.

“It’s not a problem. I’ve been asked to do that before. My mother lives with us, so she will care for my children.”

“Oh, you have a family. I didn’t realize that.” Ezra looked concerned. “How many children do you have, Estrella?”

“Two, a boy and a girl. Marta is six and Jorge is eight,” she said proudly. “They’re good children. They mind their
abuela
. I do whatever the job requires.”

Estrella hadn’t mentioned a husband, though she wore a ring. Emily didn’t think it was polite to ask. It did sound as if she might be the sole breadwinner for her children and mother.

“You can have at least one evening and one day off a week,” Jessica offered. “My sister and I will come and help out. That won’t be a problem.”

“Our housekeeper, Mrs. Fallon, always had a day off,” Ezra explained. “She’s down in Connecticut, helping her daughter.”

Estrella nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Morgan told me that in her email.”

They each had a few more questions for Estrella, and she had a few of her own about Ezra’s condition and medical needs. She seemed satisfied with the salary they were offering as well.

“It’s been delightful to meet you,” Ezra said when it was finally time for her to go. She stood by his bed and shook his hand.
“Mucho gusto,”
he added, testing out his Spanish.

Estrella’s face lit with a smile. “
Gracias
. It was very nice to meet you as well, Dr. Elliot.”

“Is this interview being conducted in a foreign language? Then I haven’t missed much.” Lillian came through the door, leaning heavily on her cane. “When did you learn to speak Spanish?” she asked Ezra. “I had no idea.”

“There are many things you still don’t know about me, dear,” Ezra said calmly. “Estrella, this is my wife, Mrs. Elliot. Lillian, this is Estrella Salazar. We’ve had a very good chat.”

“Isn’t that delightful.” Lillian’s tone was dry as she looked Estrella up and down—searching for some fault she could fix on, Emily had no doubt.

Estrella smiled at Lillian politely. “I can stay longer if there’s anything you would like to ask me, Mrs. Elliot.”

Lillian considered the offer a moment. “I’m sure my husband and daughters have asked enough. Don’t mind me. My opinion counts very little around here,” she added with a shrug. “I just do whatever they tell me. You know how it is when you get old.”

Emily met Jessica’s wide-eyed gaze, and it was hard not to laugh out loud.

“Oh, Lily, come on. No need to get that way,” Ezra urged her.

He looked over again at their visitor. “Thank you again for coming. We’ll be in touch very soon, I’m sure.”

“Either Jessica or I will give you a call later today,” Emily promised. She was already in favor of hiring her, but they did have to check her references.

“Thank you, Ms. Warwick. I look forward to it.”

Jessica showed Estrella out, and the others waited a few moments before they started to talk about her.

“I think she’s perfect,” Emily stated. “I hope her references check out. She worked for Tom and Mary Gilmore. I’m sure they can tell us all we need to know.” Emily took out her phone. “I’m going to call them right now.”

“Yes, call them, Emily. I’d like to hear what they say,” Ezra said eagerly.

Lillian sat down in the chair beside Ezra’s bed. “I can already tell you’re smitten,” she said to him. “But what about communicating clearly? That could be a problem. It could be dangerous for you.”

“Her communication skills are excellent. I understood her perfectly and vice versa,” Ezra countered. “I just said a few words in Spanish to break the ice.”

“What ice was that, Ezra? It seemed positively tropical in here when I came in.”

Ezra ignored her. “If her references check out, she can start tomorrow if she likes.”

“Tomorrow? I’ve barely said two words to the woman.” Lillian sounded shocked and upset. “‘Hello and good-bye’ was the extent of it. I think she should come back, have a second visit with us. After all, she’ll be living here, day and night. It’s important to get to know her better before she moves in.”

Jessica had returned and cast Emily a worried look. “That’s true, Mother. But we may lose her if we drag this out too long.”

“Oh, piddle-paddle. What’s meant to be is meant to be,” Lillian said.

“And ‘actions speak louder than words,’ my dear,” Ezra countered. “Anyone can talk a good game at an interview. You said so yourself. Let’s hire her, see her in action. Then you be the judge.”

Clever Ezra, he was the only one who could outsmart their mother. Emily loved to see him in action.

“All well and good,” Lillian retorted. “But if it doesn’t work out, one of us will have to fire her. Have you thought of that?”

Ezra cocked his head to one side. “True, dear. But I would leave that job to you. You’re quite good at it and have the most experience. Though you can jump the gun at times; even the best candidates need a learning curve.”

Emily exchanged looks with Jessica again. She felt as if they were watching a championship tennis match. Their mother was nimble, no question. But Ezra had the edge and seemed ready to close it out—game, set, and match.

“A probationary period?” Lillian returned in a huffy tone. “Is that what you’re suggesting?”

“If you want to call it that, fine with me,” he agreed.

“All right, have it your way. If her references check out and that résumé isn’t a work of fiction, I suppose we could give this Estelle person a try.”

“Estrella,”
Ezra corrected her. “The word means
star
in Spanish.”

Lillian rolled her eyes. “Heaven help me. I don’t even like films with subtitles. Do you really think this can work?” she asked her husband.

“I believe she’ll work out just fine,” he assured her.

Emily waited for further debate from her mother. But finally, Lillian just levered herself up from her chair with her cane and swung out of the room. “Do what you like. Don’t mind me. I only own this house, that’s all,” she said tartly.

Jessica cast a worried glance at Ezra.

“Don’t worry. I know how to handle your mother,” Ezra promised.

Emily certainly hoped so. If not, they were running out of solutions.

* * *

AMANDA DIDN’T SEE GABRIEL AT CHURCH ON WEDNESDAY AND DIDN’T
notice his truck in the parking lot on Thursday morning either. Even after chatting a bit with Mrs. Honeyfield about the window repairs, it was hard to tell when she might run into him again . . . and she didn’t want to seem too obvious in her questions.

She had chosen her outfit for the day with much more care—a dark blue sweaterdress that complemented her blue eyes, with high black boots and arty, hanging earrings Lauren had given her. She had also gotten up earlier to blow out her hair, telling herself that all this primping was not because of Gabriel. The choir was meeting that night for rehearsal, and she knew that feeling confident about her appearance would give her a bit of an edge in managing the choir members for the first time. She was a little nervous about the rehearsal and wanted to be totally prepared, completely acquainted with the music and the various parts of each song, especially the sections that might trip them up and need extra coaching.

She was in the sanctuary, working on the well-known Advent hymn they would sing on Sunday, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” when she heard the distinct sound of a ladder rattling just outside the big doors. She turned to see Gabriel walking into the sanctuary, toting the long ladder and his canvas tool bag.

He was taking care not to scratch the varnished wood moldings around the doorway, so it took him a moment to notice her. He smiled, looking surprised and pleased. “Am I interrupting you again? I can come back later.”

“It’s okay. I’m just about done here.” She was, too, and just about to leave for lunch, though she did suddenly consider staying a little longer to talk to him.

“If I’m making too much noise, just let me know. It shouldn’t take me that long.”

Amanda was sorry to hear that but kept her voice bright as she replied, “No problem.” She turned back to the piano, made a few more notes near the end of the hymn, then gathered up her music.

Gabriel had set up the ladder nearby and climbed up about halfway. There was a light tapping sound as he began to work on a section of a window. Amanda closed the piano and walked over to watch him. It looked as if he was stripping away the thick, dark frame around a section of glass. He gently pried and tapped with a sharp tool until fragments of glass broke apart into his hand. “Watch out! Some of this might fall near you.”

Amanda stepped back, but he seemed to catch the pieces easily.

“I know, it looks like I’m making it worse, right?”

“Well, yes,” Amanda admitted with a smile.

“`If you want to make an omelet, you have to break some eggs,’” he said. “Same with fixing stained glass. This piece was cracked and was going to fall out soon anyway. I’ll take these fragments back to my shop to match the color as closely as possible, then make a new piece to replace it.”

“How do you manage to knock out just the one section?”

“That part is a little tricky. The answer is: Very carefully.” He glanced down at her and grinned. “I just want to make sure the church doesn’t get any feathered visitors before I patch this up.” He was quickly covering the hole in the window with a bit of plastic and duct tape. Amanda was mesmerized by how quickly and smoothly his hands moved as he worked. “I’ll have this one fixed before Sunday. The rest shouldn’t take too much longer.”

Amanda wondered what he meant by that. Would he be around until Christmas, or be done before then?

There were three arched windows on each side of the sanctuary and a round window at the base of the steeple, visible behind the balcony. Quite a few of the windows were patched together with duct tape and plastic, and she secretly hoped they would take longer than he predicted.

“That’s my favorite window,” she said after a moment. “Maybe because it’s so Christmassy.”

The window he was working on depicted the manger on Christmas night, with Mary and Joseph on either side of the crèche and the holy infant swaddled in white, the stable animals looking on at the humble scene. The sky above the manger was a mosaic of dark blue glass, with a large, golden star hovering above.

Gabriel nodded. “I love this one, too.” He leaned back a bit to look up at the window. “I love the placement of the figures, the way their bodies bend toward the cradle. The colors blend perfectly, and there’s so much expression . . . It’s really amazing work.”

“Yes, it is amazing. I could never have explained it quite that way,” she admitted. “But that is why I like it so much.”

He climbed down from the ladder and was suddenly quite close to her. “Which is your next favorite?” he asked curiously.

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly, gazing at the other, beautiful choices. “I like the one with the dove,” she said, pointing to the first window on the other side of the sanctuary. “It’s a little different from the others, a lot brighter . . . How old are these windows? Are they as old as the church?”

“Not quite. The church was originally built in the Colonial era. But the early settlers didn’t use stained glass in their churches, even though they had the technology and it’s a tradition that goes back to the Middle Ages.”