Songs of Christmas (36 page)

Amanda felt her heart catch. She could sense that he was trying to tell her something, something that was hard for him to say.

They had reached the restaurant, and Gabriel found a parking space near the waterfront. They sat together in the truck’s quiet cab, looking out at the dark water and night sky, dotted with tiny white points of light.

“Listen,” he said, “I’m going to miss you like crazy. But I’m also glad you’ve got this amazing opportunity. I guess . . . I just wasn’t expecting everything to change this fast.”

“Neither was I,” she admitted.

“But it is,” he said quietly, “and that means we’re going to change, too.”

Amanda felt something like fear stirring inside her. She wanted to go to Portland and play in an orchestra, but she wasn’t ready to lose what she had with Gabriel. That was never her plan.

He took her hand, his thumb stroking hers, as if to comfort her. “What I’m trying to say is, even though you won’t be that far away in terms of distance, it’s going to be a world away from this place. You lived in New York—you know what I mean.”

Amanda nodded, struggling to find her voice. “I know. My life will be way different from the way it is here.” When he called to offer her the job, Mr. Guillet had mentioned touring in Europe in the summer.

“That’s what I mean. I think you’re fantastic . . . and I care for you. I really do,” Gabriel said quietly.

Amanda tensed. She could feel a “but” coming up.

“But I don’t want to hold you back. You’re going to meet new people—other musicians and artists. You’re going to travel, have adventures. You have to get out there . . . and go for it. I don’t want you to have any regrets, you know what I mean?”

Amanda pulled back and looked at him. She nodded “yes,” but, in fact, she didn’t understand this at all. He said he cared for her, but now it seemed he was trying to push her away. Maybe he didn’t feel as much for her as she did for him.

Despite all his sweet gestures and encouragement, she realized Gabriel hadn’t stepped up and told her he wanted to find a way to stay together. That’s what suddenly hurt and made it so hard to admit that that was what she wanted to hear.

She swallowed hard, trying to dissolve the lump in her throat. “I appreciate you saying all this, Gabriel. You’re right. Life will be different for me up there . . . But we’ll still be in touch, won’t we? And maybe you can come see me play sometime?”

Don’t you want to be together?
That’s what she really meant.

She had pictured him sitting in one of the seats, in the beautiful big hall, his face among a sea of faces that would all fade away when she looked out at him. She had wanted to tell him how much his encouragement and support had helped her, how she had imagined playing for him at the audition, rather than the panel of three who sat judging her. And how she really believed that was why she won the seat she had so wanted.

“Absolutely. I’d love that.” He reached for her hand again. “I want to be in touch, hear how you like Portland and how you’re doing,” he assured her. “I just don’t want you to feel . . . obligated or something. I would never want to pressure you or make you unhappy, Amanda.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. It was suddenly all so confusing. A tiny part of her wondered if she would still feel the same way once she had been in Portland for a while. Was it possible that in separate places with very different lives, they would outgrow each other, lose all the things that made them feel so close now? But a larger part of her—her heart—honestly did want to be committed to him, even though it seemed much too early in their relationship for that.

But what she wanted wasn’t the issue. It was what he didn’t want. He would be down here on his own, and he clearly wanted to be free, maybe to date other women. That thought hurt, but she tried to be mature about it.

“Yes, I understand,” she said as unemotionally as she could. He reached over and touched her cheek but didn’t lean over and kiss her.

And she couldn’t move toward him. It felt as if this conversation had put them at a great distance and was sending them on different paths.

“Okay, so we got all this heavy stuff out of the way.” He turned and faced forward again. She could actually hear him sigh with relief. Then he smiled at her, a real smile this time. “Let’s get out there and ring in the new. You have a lot to celebrate, Amanda. I’m going to do my best to help you.”

He was back to his charming, playful, teasing self, and Amanda tried to lighten her own mood. Okay, so he wasn’t into the big commitment. It was hardly the end of the world. He was still an incredibly cute guy, and she knew they could have a good time together.

She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you’re here, too,” she said honestly.

They walked into the restaurant hand in hand. But she couldn’t help wondering why it had to be like this. She was finally on her way, starting a job she had dreamed about and worked so hard for. But did she have to lose Gabriel in order to do that?

* * *

NEW YEAR’S DAY . . . ANOTHER FAUX HOLIDAY IN LILLIAN’S BOOK—
more forced gaiety. She could not recall ever enjoying herself on this day. It was just a day to get through, a good day to take down the Christmas tree and put the holidays away. She yearned for January second, when life could officially get back to normal.

She had mentioned taking down the decorations to Estrella that morning and was glad to see she had started the task. Ezra had complained it was too soon. He liked to wait for what he called “Little Christmas,” January sixth.

Little Christmas, Big Christmas. She’d had enough holidays of any proportion. Having these children underfoot had worn away what little patience she had.

She wandered into Ezra’s room to see if he had woken from his nap. Emily was coming by later to wish them a happy New Year—and to take back a few presents she had bought for them that were not right. She found Ezra reading a book about President Lincoln that Dan and Emily had given him. He glanced up at her over his reading glasses.

“Oh, you’re awake. Good. Emily is dropping by. To wish us a happy New Year.”

“That’s thoughtful . . . Where is everyone? It’s so quiet out there. Jorge promised me a chess match,” he added.

Ezra had proven a good teacher of chess, and Jorge an apt pupil. Ezra had created himself a new partner. Lillian knew how to play, but didn’t really enjoy it. Now it was all her husband wanted to do in his spare time. No interest in Scrabble or gin rummy or even finishing a crossword with her lately.

Well, she wasn’t going to chase him. He would be begging to pass the time with her as soon as Estrella’s children returned to school. Then they would see if she had any free time to amuse him.

“Jorge’s gone out. Bonita took both children to town right after lunch. To the playground near the harbor.”

That had been Lillian’s suggestion. It took them about an hour to get ready, with much searching for gloves and hats and deciding which toys to bring. Lillian gritted her teeth just watching. But it was well worth the fuss. The boy had brought his new soccer ball, and the girl was rolling a toy stroller with a stuffed bear covered in dish towels, which she pretended were blankets. No harm in that, Lillian thought. As long as she brought them all back and they were bleached in the laundry.

“The playground? It must be ten below out there today. They’ll freeze into ice statues. I hope they were well dressed,” he added with concern.

“Don’t be so dramatic. You’ve often told me how you skated across the harbor in this kind of weather when you were a boy. One would think you would appreciate a little peace and quiet. You were able to have a nice long nap, weren’t you?”

“They never disturb my nap,” he insisted.

“Well, they disturb mine,” she snapped, then tried to compose herself. “Cold, fresh air is good for children, clears the lungs. They’ll sleep well tonight, too. They go back to school tomorrow,” she added in a cheerful tone. “Their vacation is over.”

She could have danced a jig at that news, though the children had been walking around all morning with long faces.

“Yes, I know. It went so fast.”

“Not for me.” She picked up her cross-stitch piece and picked at the loose threads on the back.

“Yes. We know, Lillian. I appreciate your many sacrifices. Indeed I do.”

She felt gratified for a moment . . . then eyed him narrowly.

Was he being sarcastic, after all she’d done for these strangers? Before she could get into it, the blessed silence in the house was shattered by a crashing sound, glass breaking . . . and a woman’s cry.

“¡Dulce María, madre de Dios!”
she heard Bonita shout.

The ruckus seemed to be coming from the entrance hall. Lillian stared at Ezra. He stared back.

“Go see what happened, Lily!” he urged her. “See if anyone is hurt. You know I can’t run in there.”

Pale with concern, he scuttled like a crab to the edge of his bed and grabbed for his crutches. Lillian turned on her cane and started toward the foyer as fast as she could.

“Bonita? What in heaven’s name happened? I heard something fall . . .”

She saw the three of them not far from the front door, Bonita and her two grandchildren. Still wearing coats, gloves, and wool hats, the children’s cheeks red from the cold weather. The boy and girl looked shocked and frightened, their eyes wide. Jorge stared at the white and black tiles on the floor, holding his soccer ball.

Bonita stood behind them. She murmured something, but Lillian didn’t understand her. Then she covered her mouth with her hand.

On the tiles near the coat tree, Lillian found the casualty—her beautiful Tiffany-style lamp, the stained-glass shade shattered to colorful bits. It normally sat on the mail table, not far from the front door.

“Who did this?” Lillian asked, looking from one child to the other. She had her suspicions but wanted the guilty party to confess.

Bonita started talking in Spanish. Lillian could tell from her tone she was trying to explain and apologize.

Lillian put out her hand to silence her, then stared down at the children.

Marta blinked and started to cry. She turned her face into her grandmother’s jacket.

“Oh, it was you?” Lillian moved closer to the little girl.

Jorge stepped between them, still holding his ball. “No, I did it, Mrs. Elliot. It was an accident. We were playing. Marta tried to take my ball and I pulled it away from her . . . I don’t know . . . we just bumped into the table. I bumped into it, I mean,” he added quickly.

“So you’re taking the blame? How noble. Sounds to me like it was a partnership.” Lillian’s voice rose on a sharp note. “How many times have I asked you not to play in here? Not to play in this house—except upstairs. How many times?” she practically screamed at him, leaning down, so that they were face-to-face. “See what you’ve done? It’s broken, ruined . . . Are you happy now?”

“Lillian, please! Just stop. Leave the boy alone. You’ve made your point.” Ezra had finally made his way to the front hall and hobbled closer on his crutches. “For goodness’ sake, it’s just a lamp. As long as no one’s hurt, that’s all that matters.”

Before she could tell him that he had no right to dismiss her feelings this way, quick footsteps sounded on the stairs. Lillian saw Estrella coming down, her face an angry mask.

“Mrs. Elliot, you’ve said enough.” Estrella stepped between Lillian and her son and put her arm around his shoulders, gently leading him to one side. “I am sorry this happened. But I’m sure the children didn’t mean it to—”

“They didn’t listen either when they had the chance,” Lillian cut her off. “They don’t listen to a word I say. You don’t either. You’re their mother. You have to control them. That boy should be punished, not coddled.”

“It was an accident. They are only children,” Estrella repeated tersely. “I’m very sorry. I take full blame. I will replace the lamp for you.”

Lillian practically laughed. “You can’t replace that lamp. It’s an antique. An heirloom from my late husband’s estate, Lilac Hall.”

“Oh, Lily, come now. It’s not nearly so valuable,” Ezra argued.

“It certainly isn’t now,” Lillian retorted. “It’s a pile of broken glass. It
was
quite valuable, museum quality,” she told Estrella.

Estrella blinked and took a deep breath. “Well, it should have been in a museum, then. Not in a busy house, right next to the front door.”

Lillian felt a thud in her chest as if someone had punched her. She had to stop and catch her breath.

“You see here, young lady. Don’t you speak to me like that.” There were spots before her eyes. She could hardly see straight.

“Lily, please. Let it go. The lamp is broken. There’s nothing we can do,” Ezra said.

Lillian turned to him. “I can think of something. Your guests have to go,” she said simply. “I want them out. Tonight. I don’t care where. I’ll pay for a night in a motel if I have to. I have twisted myself in a knot to accommodate everyone. Everyone but myself. Now I want some say. I want my house back. Before any more damage is done.”

Estrella said nothing, but her large brown eyes grew darker.

“Oh, Lillian, don’t do that. It’s not right. Where will they go tonight?” Ezra’s voice was so weak and plaintive, it turned Lillian’s stomach. She answered with a cold look, and he turned to Estrella. “Please, don’t go. Not tonight. She doesn’t mean it. Lillian, apologize . . . For my sake, please.”

“Have you gone completely mad?” Lillian stared at him. “What do I have to apologize for? My house . . . torn, shredded, stained . . . shattered. I meant every word of what I said. Every word,” she repeated emphatically.

Estrella met her glance, her lips sealed in a tight line. Lillian thought she was going to fire back some smart remark again, but instead she turned to Ezra, her expression softening.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Ezra. I, too, think it is time for us to go. Mrs. Elliot is right. This is not working out. We cannot stay where we’re not welcome.”

Her son was hugging her around the waist, his face hidden in her dress. “Mama, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“
Mijo
, don’t cry. It’s not your fault. Mama is not angry with you. Go upstairs now. It will be fine. You’ll see,” she promised in a soothing tone.