'Tis the Season (29 page)

“We can write that into the contract,” Jennifer pointed out.

“Great. Go ahead and call your buddies in Atlanta. Tell them we're ready to nail things down.”

The smile Jennifer gave him wasn't gooey and gushy like the smiles she'd been giving Tank at Filomena's party. It was a cool, satisfied smile, the smile of a woman in complete control of her life. There wasn't an iota of magic in it.

Jennifer was right. Magic was just an illusion. He ought to accept reality the way she had, square his shoulders and get back to life as he once knew it.

He picked Gracie up early that afternoon at the Children's Garden. Molly was in the front office, her young daughter seated in a baby swing beside her desk, gurgling happily as the chair rocked to and fro. “Hi, Evan,” she greeted him. “Gracie's washing up. They were finger-painting. She'll be just a minute.”

“No rush,” he said. It was a novelty arriving so early
for Gracie that she wasn't ready for him. “How was her day?”

“Good. She didn't nap during rest time, so she might be ready for bed early tonight. I think she's beginning to outgrow her need for a nap—which is a good thing, since she'll be starting kindergarten next fall. Most kindergartens don't schedule in nap time.”

He eyed Molly's baby and realized how old Gracie had become. He used to think of her enrollment in kindergarten as a means of improving his work schedule; he'd be able to put her in the same after-school program as Billy and pick them both up at the same time.

But now he thought of kindergarten in terms of Gracie's maturity. She was evolving into an entirely new person. She wasn't the kid she'd been just weeks ago. She didn't need naps anymore.

“I can't make the Daddy School tonight,” he said, abruptly aware that with his children changing, he was going to need Daddy School classes more than before. He no longer saw the Daddy School as proof of his own shortcomings as a father. It was, rather, a way of improving himself, a way of opening his mind to new ideas and approaches. A way of thinking about what was going on in his life and his kids'. A way of addressing his needs as a human being.

“Oh?”

“I don't have a baby-sitter.” He would to have to find a new one. If he was ever going to come to terms with Filomena's absence, he ought to begin by finding and training a new sitter for the kids.

“I'm going to be starting a series of Saturday-morning classes,” Molly informed him. “Before the baby, I used to teach classes here at the school Saturdays at 10 a.m.
Fathers could bring their children with them. Sometimes one of the teachers would take the kids upstairs or outdoors to play while I worked with the fathers, and sometimes we'd have joint classes with the dads and kids together. I'll be resuming those classes in a few weeks. They're a lot of fun—and you don't have to worry about baby-sitters.”

“Sounds great,” he said. Daddy School and playtime for Gracie and Billy rolled into one. “Let me know when those classes start. I'll be there.”

Molly smiled gently. “You're a wonderful father, Evan. You know that, don't you?”

He shrugged. “Just doing my best.”

A few minutes later, he and Gracie left the building. She thumped her boots against the pavement and counted the early stars. “I love the winter 'cuz I get to stay up later,” she announced.

“Actually, you don't,” he argued. “It just gets late earlier.”

“That's silly, Daddy!”

He scooted down to the Elm Street School to pick up Billy, then headed for home. He was feeling better. Not about being a father, not about his wonderful kids, but…about magic.

Jennifer had been right. Magic was an illusion. It was dazzling, it was fun—but it wasn't real.

What he'd had with Filomena wasn't magic. It was as real as anything had ever been in his life. His children had once believed Filomena was a ghost or a witch or some such thing, but she wasn't. She was a woman, and everything he'd ever felt for her was real. His world in Arlington was as real as hers in Manhattan. And damn
it, he wanted her to be a part of his reality. As big a part as possible.

“Listen, kids,” he said, suddenly energized, “we're not going straight home, okay? We're going to stop at McDonald's, grab some burgers and fries, then take a little trip.”

“Now?” Gracie squealed.

“Where?” Billy asked.

“New York City.”

“Can we get milk shakes, too?”

“Sure.”

“I want chocolate!” Gracie bellowed.

“You want chocolate?” Evan steered toward the fast-food outlet right by the entrance ramp to the highway. “Then chocolate it is.”

 

B
ILLY HAD BEEN
to New York City once before that he could remember. Dad had taken him and Gracie to Madison Square Garden to see the circus. He remembered the smell of sawdust and animal poop, the clowns, some lady who rode a unicycle balanced on a tightrope, and cotton candy. He'd never eaten cotton candy before. Actually, you couldn't really eat it. You'd take a chunk into your mouth and it would melt away, leaving sweetness behind on your tongue.

But he'd never been in New York at night. And he'd never gone on any trip that his dad hadn't planned in advance and told him about. This was a real adventure.

Next to him, Gracie was asleep in her booster seat. Leave it to her to sleep through the most exciting thing they'd ever done. She hadn't even finished her milk shake. Dad had put the lid back on it and wedged it into the cup holder between the two front seats.

“What are we going to do in the city?” Billy asked. On either side of the highway were boxy apartment buildings filled with rows of bright, square windows. Streetlights arched over the highway, making it almost as bright as day.

“See Fil.”

“Really?” He missed her. He hadn't wanted to say anything to Dad about it, because he kind of suspected that Dad missed her, too. Yesterday afternoon, while Dad was reading the Sunday newspaper and Gracie was playing with her new computer game, Billy had hiked through the woods—even with snow on the ground, he could follow the path easily—to Filomena's house. The fresh green paint on the back porch looked awfully bright in contrast to the snow. The front drive was plowed, and down at the street end of it, near the stone pillars, he could see a For Sale sign with a real-estate company's name printed on it.

He'd peeked into the windows, just the way he had when he used to visit the house, before Filomena came. The furniture wasn't covered with sheets anymore, but the place was haunted, for sure.

Her spirit haunted it. Closing his eyes, he could hear her laughter. He could smell cookies baking and turkey roasting. He could picture her long skirts and her jangly earrings, and he could feel her arm around his shoulders while they discussed whether Freddy the Pig and the other animals were smarter than Mr. and Mrs. Bean, who owned the farm where they all lived. He could remember her reading his cards, telling him he was a dreamer.

He had dreamed of going to New York City to see her. And now his dream was coming true.

His father steered off the highway onto a street lined
with towering buildings. “Do you know where we're going?” Billy asked.

“I have her address.”

The sidewalks were filled with people, more people than he ever saw crowding the sidewalks in downtown Arlington. Most of them walked like soldiers, facing straight ahead, carrying shopping bags and briefcases and backpacks and swinging their arms. But some were just hanging out, dressed in colorful parkas and hats, kidding and shoving each other and lingering in the pools of light in front of restaurants and delis. Someone roller-skated smoothly through the throng, weaving back and forth and avoiding all the pedestrians. Billy was a pretty good skater, but he didn't think he could skate through a crowd like the one on the sidewalk, not without crashing into someone.

“Does she know we're coming?” he asked his father.

“Um…not exactly.”

Well, that was okay. It made this trip more of an adventure. They'd surprise Filomena, and she'd be so happy to see them, and the surprise of it would make her even happier. Like a surprise birthday party or something.

They drove across a really wide street with train tracks running down the middle of it, and then they were on a quieter street of apartment buildings. Dad cruised slowly along the street, looking for a parking space. He turned the corner, drove around the block and cruised even more slowly. Up ahead, a car engine spurted to life. The car pulled away from the curb and Dad grabbed the space.

“Gracie's sleeping,” Billy warned his father.

“I can carry her.” He waited for Billy to climb out of the car, then leaned in, unfastened Gracie's seat belt and lifted her out of her booster seat. She made a whiny
sound, then settled against his shoulder as he arranged her in his arms.

Dad led Billy to one of the brick buildings. “This is her address,” he said. “Let's hope she's home.”

“What are we gonna do if she isn't?” Billy asked.

“I don't know. We'll think of something. Finding a parking space is almost impossible in Manhattan, and we did that, didn't we? The rest should be easy.”

The rest of what?
Billy wanted to ask. But he only followed his father into the entry of the building. There was an inside door that was locked, and on the wall a metal panel with buttons on it. Next to each button was a name. “F. Albright” was near the top, because the names were listed alphabetically.

His father pressed the button next to “F. Albright.” Nothing happened.

He pressed it again. Nothing.

He hoisted Gracie higher in his arms. Her head bobbled and then sank back onto his shoulder. She started to snore.

“What are we gonna do?” Billy asked.

His father looked frustrated. Maybe worried, too. “See, Billy, the problem is, I decided this wasn't about magic. But I guess we did need some magic to make sure Fil would be home. And we didn't get any magic. That's the whole problem, Billy—we don't need a lot of magic. Just a little.”

“I don't believe in magic,” Billy said, although he wasn't exactly sure what his father was talking about.

“I don't, either. But I think we could have used a little right about now.”

“So, like, what should we do? Chant a magic spell or something? Like abracadabra hocus-pocus?”

“Maybe we should walk over to the campus. She works at the university.”

“Where is it?”

“A couple of blocks away,” he said. “Maybe she's at her office there, or in the library studying.”

Why would she be in the library studying? She was a grown-up. It wasn't as if she had to do homework or anything. Once Billy was her age, he sure wouldn't be going to the library and studying.

Sighing, Dad leaned against the outer door, using his hip to open it. He paused, half in and half out of the building. “Say your magic chant again,” he whispered.

“What? Abracadabra or hocus-pocus?”

“Both. Say them again,” Dad ordered him.

Dad was acting weird, but Billy supposed that was part of the adventure. “Abracadabra hocus-pocus.”

“One more time.” Dad was smiling now.

Billy smiled, too. “Abracadabra hocus-pocus.”

Then he heard the footsteps on the pavement. Someone was approaching the building. The footsteps grew faster, and he heard Filomena's voice. “Evan? Oh, my God, is that you?”

She rushed to the building and swept inside, bringing the cold night air in with her. She had a purple knit cap pulled down over her forehead, and matching purple mittens, and a long skirt and her familiar boots and a canvas tote bag in one hand, bulging with books and papers. She dropped the tote bag, tried to hug Dad, realized he had his hands full with Gracie and hugged Billy, instead.

Ordinarily Billy didn't like being hugged by ladies. But this was different. This was Filomena.

“Oh, my God!” she said again, and sighed. “I can't believe you're here! When did you get here? Have you
been waiting long? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?”

“It's a surprise,” Billy said before his father could answer.

She peered up at Dad. He grinned. “It's a surprise,” he repeated.

Gracie stirred in his arms, rubbed her eyes and scowled at Filomena. “What's the surprise?” she mumbled.

“We missed you,” Dad said to Fil.

It suddenly got very quiet in the entry. And warm. The air grew still, yet Billy sensed something rippling in it, like an invisible current. Filomena and Dad were staring at each other. Billy and Gracie could have been back home in Arlington for all Filomena and Dad noticed them.

“What's the surprise?” Gracie said again.

“I love you, Fil,” Dad said. “And that's probably not a surprise.”

She bit her lip. “You never even called me. I called you twice, but I thought…I thought maybe you didn't want to talk to me anymore.”