Songs of Christmas (24 page)

“Tea will suffice, thank you.” Lillian rose slowly, dreading her son-in-law’s efforts in the kitchen. It wasn’t that she questioned his ability. Like his sister Molly, he was a good cook; all of Joe and Marie Morgan’s children were. But Sam’s culinary efforts favored burgers and chili and great big sandwiches, the sort of food that was just not appropriate for Ezra—or her. Even worse, his tea looked like a cup of water drawn from the harbor . . . and was about as tasty. He’d never made tea with loose leaves before, he had told her, and she didn’t have the patience to teach him.

Leaning heavily on her cane, she slowly made her way to Ezra’s room. Jessica would stop by with some dinner soon, she recalled. She hoped it wasn’t one of her pasta dishes. They lay so heavily in her stomach. She would just as soon have some plain baked chicken and a boiled potato. Maybe now that the lights were back on, someone would take pity on her and accommodate this
extreme
request.

She finally reached Ezra’s room and glanced at him from the doorway. “The lights are back on. We are coming to the end of this ordeal, I hope.”

“‘ “Hope” is the thing with feathers—That perches in the soul—And sings the tune without the words—And never stops—at all,’” he countered. He had a good memory for poetic bits, her husband did.

“Bravo,” she said flatly as she sat down in the armchair next to his bed. “I hope they’ll leave us alone for a while now, give us a moment’s peace.”

She heard Sam coming and quickly sat back in her chair. He served Ezra a tuna sandwich first and then brought them both cups of tea. Hers sloshed a bit into the saucer. “Oh, sorry about that,” he apologized.

“It’s all right. It’s fine.”

Ezra glanced at her, then looked back at Sam. “Say, Sam, could you find my puzzle book? I think I left it in the living room.”

Lillian knew very well it was right in the bedroom, but then guessed her husband had sensed her irritation and sent Sam out of the room to be helpful.

Sam disappeared, and she said, “I know he means well . . . but don’t drink that tea. You’ll regret it.”

Ezra peeked into his mug and put it aside. “He certainly means well, but the meals have been a little catch as catch can,” he conceded. “I’ll be glad to see Estrella return. Maybe she’ll come back tomorrow.”

“I suppose that is possible,” Lillian replied without meeting his eye. She would never admit it, not with her hand pressed to an open fire, but she was
almost
looking forward to Estrella returning as well. At least Estrella brought a sense of order here. Her cooking, though it was far from perfect, would be an improvement over what they had been surviving on the last two days.

“I think we should call her. After we have our tea,” Ezra suggested. “See how she and her family are doing.”

“Yes, let’s,” Lillian agreed. Her husband stared at her, looking quite surprised. “What? What did I say wrong now?” she asked sharply.

He shrugged. “Nothing, dear. Nothing at all.”

She scowled at him. She knew that smug grin. As if he thought he had gotten one over on her. She just wanted all these meddlesome and chatty daughters and sons-in-law and grandchildren out of her house. How much could a person stand? It was wearing on her last nerve.

She wasn’t dying to see Estrella, but her return would solve this problem. “Let’s just say it’s the lesser of two evils,” she finally replied.

“If you say so, dear,” Ezra agreed.

But he still wore that infernal smile. If he wasn’t so ill, she would have pursued this point. Yes, she would have.

For the sake of his health, she took the high road, though she wasn’t sure he appreciated it. Then she sat back and tried to sip the horrid tea Sam Morgan had served them.

Chapter Ten

E
STRELLA ARRIVED BRIGHT AND EARLY
T
HURSDAY MORNING.
L
ILLIAN
wasn’t even downstairs yet, but she heard her coming in the back door, then Ezra calling out, “
Hola
, Estrella!”

“
Hola
, Dr. Ezra,” she replied cheerfully. Lillian heard her go into his room, and then the Spanish lesson started, halting but earnest on her husband’s part and slow and patient on Estrella’s.

She still hoped to heaven Estrella was not asking any critical health questions in these tête-à-têtes. Ezra was liable to mix up the descriptions of his symptoms and get the wrong medication.

But she worried far less about that now. She hated to admit it, but she more or less trusted the woman. Estrella had proven so clear-headed and decisive during Ezra’s blood-pressure crisis. Was that only a week ago? It seemed so much longer. The storm had distorted her sense of time these past few days.

A week, or a year, she would never forget how terrified she had felt touching Ezra’s cold hand that night. Nor how Estrella had insisted that she ride with Ezra and given her that coat, her own coat. Never said a word about it. Oh, maybe it was a small gesture. But at the time, it seemed like . . . something.

Lillian realized she had never really thanked her. Well, the moment had passed. She wasn’t about to revisit all that again now. But she wasn’t entirely displeased to see Estrella return. Absence did make the heart grow fonder. Well, not fonder, exactly. She wouldn’t go that far. But she had grown accustomed to her. That much was true. She had gotten used to her ways, and Lillian supposed Estrella would stay—until Mrs. Fallon returned.

Finally, she reached the first floor and rested for a moment at the bottom of the staircase.

“Mrs. Elliot, I did not hear you coming down. How are you today?”

“I am well, Estrella. As well as can be expected.” She paused, wondering how polite she needed to be to the help these days. “And how are you? How is your family faring?”

“We are safe. No one was hurt.” Estrella answered decisively. “Our house, the cottage we are renting . . . it’s full of water. Flooded.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Lillian said, caught off guard. Estrella’s cheerful demeanor had given no hint at all of that. She took a few steps closer to Estrella, who was putting the living room back in order, since Lillian’s grandchildren had left the place in shambles. “How much water was there? Did your furnishings and all get wet?”

Estrella glanced at her and nodded. “The cottage is one floor. No basement. Everything . . . all my children’s clothes and books and toys, TV, beds . . . It’s all ruin.” She shook her head as if to shake loose the disturbing image. “I will make your breakfast. What would you like to eat?”

Lillian felt a little stunned and didn’t know what to say.

It seemed that Estrella did not want to dwell on her misfortune. Just as well. Maybe later she would suggest that Estrella seek help at their church. Lillian had heard they had collected a lot of donations and were trying to help people in Estrella’s situation.

“A poached egg on toast would be nice. Thank you,” she replied. “I can eat in Dr. Ezra’s room. I’ll go check on him.”

Lillian hobbled into Ezra’s room. He was sitting up in bed. His gray beard had a few days’ growth, and he scratched his chin.

Estrella always gave him a nice shave and washed and combed his hair properly, but during the storm they’d had to skip all that. Lillian would be pleased when he had his beauty treatments this morning.

He looked upset, and Lillian had a good idea of why. “Well . . . did she tell you? They’ve lost their house and everything in it. The family has been living in a shelter.”

“She didn’t tell me that part. What happened to the neighbor?”

Ezra shrugged. “You know how people are. Welcoming, to a point. Or maybe Estrella didn’t want to impose. There may have not been much room in the neighbor’s apartment.”

Lillian nodded. It was hard for her sometimes to picture the way other people lived. As a doctor, Ezra had seen it all and could always empathize better than she could. But that was his nature, too. A shelter did sound grim. “How long can people stay in those evacuation places? Don’t they shut down after the storm?”

“More or less. I think the places are open a few days. I don’t know where they plan to go now. I haven’t asked her yet.”

“Maybe a motel somewhere. Maybe the government pays for that. We can ask Emily. She would know.”

Ezra seemed distracted, lost in thought.

“Did you hear me? I said we should ask Emily. Maybe she could help them. And don’t forget, Sam told us they’ve collected a lot of donations at church. Estrella ought to go there for some clothes and such.”

“She could do that, I suppose.” Ezra paused, then looked straight at her. “I think we should have them come here.”

Lillian squinted at him. Had she heard him right? She hadn’t even had her coffee yet. “Have them here? . . . Are you mad? Did you really say that?”

“I did,” he countered in a deep voice, one she hadn’t heard in weeks now. “We have plenty of room. They could have the entire third floor. It would be the right thing to do. The Christian thing,” he said with emphasis.

Oh, bother. He was throwing the Good Book at her, wasn’t he?

She was about to reply, then realized the door was open and Estrella, not too far away in the kitchen, could probably hear them. She stepped back to the door and closed it firmly, then turned to him.

“There are agencies and funds and plenty of services set up to help people like her. I know it’s unfortunate,” she added in a soft but emphatic tone. “But are we to invite in every family that’s found themselves flooded out of their home? We have plenty of space, that’s true. Should we give every stranger in town a bedroom?”

“Estrella is not a stranger,” he said in a stubborn tone that got under her skin.

“No, of course not. She’s your star. Isn’t that right?” she chided him.

His pale cheeks took on some color, and Lillian suddenly feared for his blood pressure. “That’s right. She is my star. She saved my life,” he reminded her. “I, for one, believe I owe her this much. A small compensation in the larger scheme of things.”

His rebuttal stung. Mainly because it was true, to some degree, she had to concede. But she still didn’t want Estrella’s mother and her two children living in this house. She couldn’t imagine it . . . She couldn’t bear the very idea of it.

“All right, compensation for her heroic moment. I get the point. We never gave her that raise you mentioned. I’m willing to give her a bonus of some kind, a nice gift, to help get her on her feet again. What do you think of that?”

Ezra’s eyes narrowed. “I’m disappointed in you, Lily. This young woman has given us her all. Now she needs our help. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” she insisted. “I just think this problem could be solved differently.”

They heard a knock on the door and both drew in short, quick breaths. “Come in, Estrella, the door isn’t locked,” Ezra called out, and Estrella entered the room. He gave Lillian a sharp look, then smiled warmly at his helper.

If Estrella had overheard any of their conversation, her expression did not reveal it. She set down Ezra’s breakfast—a bowl of oatmeal with dried cranberries and cinnamon on top. “My, this looks good. I’ve missed your oatmeal, Estrella. And we’ve missed you,” he added.

“Thank you, Dr. Ezra. I’ve missed you, too,” she replied with a smile. She brought Lillian her dish, too. The egg was perfectly poached, sitting on a golden piece of toast. Not too runny in the middle, but not too hard either. It really did look good.

There was also a cup of berries and orange slices for each of them. And for Lillian, real coffee. She eagerly took a sip. Just right as well. What a great relief.

Once Estrella left the room, Lillian glanced over at Ezra. “We’ll discuss this more later,” she said quietly.

He nodded, chewing his oatmeal. “You can count on it,” he replied with conviction.

Lillian kept a straight face but did waver a bit inside.

Ezra was not one to waste his powder. He chose his battles carefully. Once committed to the field, he did not retreat, or surrender. He was a lot like her in that way, as she knew only too well.

* * *

LILLIAN DECIDED TO CALL EMILY WHILE EZRA WAS NAPPING BEFORE
lunch. Even though her daughter would drop by at the end of the day, she needed to get a jump on this situation. She told Estrella she felt like a short nap and ambled up to her room, then shut the door to ensure complete privacy.

“Emily? It’s me. I need some information,” she began, hoping to keep the conversation low-key. She thought it best to speak in the most general terms. No need to get everyone up in arms about Estrella’s family.

“Why are you whispering, Mother? You sound hoarse. Does your throat hurt?”

“My throat is perfectly fine,” Lillian snapped in a slightly louder voice. “I know you’re busy and don’t have much time for me. Please just answer a few quick questions. Say a person’s home has been rendered uninhabitable by the storm. Doesn’t the town or the county—or somebody—provide some sort of temporary housing? Beyond those gymnasium centers, I mean.”

“Yes, there are assistance programs, on the county, state, and federal levels. We’re just starting to sort all that out now. I’ve been in meeting on top of meeting—”