The Shoebox

by Lisa Fernandez

  “You are so cute.” He braced his arms around her, smiling down into her eyes.

  When her eyes met his and she saw the look on his face, she felt like a Christmas angel. Snowflakes landed and melted on her lips. “Say it.” She laughed. “Say it’s a blessing!”

  “It’s a blessing.”

  Maddy laughed out loud and jumped, almost pulling him down as she held tightly to his neck. He spun her in his arms as she screamed and laughed. “You have to come inside with me. I don’t want this evening to end.” Maddy touched Peter’s arm and pulled it towards her. “Let’s make a fire and sit by my tree and pretend we’re married.”

  “I don’t have to pretend, Maddy. It will happen. Wait!” Peter whispered. “I want to give you something out here first. I want us to be by ourselves when you open this.”

  Maddy looked up at Peter, her eyelashes heavy with snowflakes. He put his hand deep into his coat pocket and pulled out a small box with a silver bow on it. She took it in her hands, opening it slowly.

  “Oh, Peter, this is too much.” She gasped out loud. “We said we were only going to spend twenty dollars.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s beautiful.” She pulled out a thin silver chain, a slanted silver heart with a small diamond dangling from it. “Peter.” She put her arms around him and touched his lips with her fingertips. As the snow fell, they stood kissing long and soft, Maddy inside his warm coat, deep in his arms.

  She looked up at him, her bright eyes sparkling. “This is the best Christmas I’ll ever have.”

  “This is just the beginning.” Peter said softly as the snow came down around them.

  1985

  “Madeline, are you ready?” Betty stood at the door.

  The sound of her voice startled Maddy. “I’m sorry. I was somewhere else. In the snow—”

  “I could see that. Must have been some snowstorm.”

  Maddy smiled, one hand moving unconsciously to her collarbone where no necklace hung. “It was.”

  Peter sat on his front steps holding the newspaper in his hands. He flipped the pages towards the back, scanning the real estate section. He inhaled deeply at the thought of having his own home. He wanted a home like Amanda and Jake’s, where he could be the one building the fire every evening. A home where his children could play in the yard, and he could grill on the weekends for his—Peter exhaled at the thought of someday looking up to see Maddy in his own kitchen, his wife.

  “Perfection,” he mumbled as he flipped through the pages.

  He scanned the ads with his finger, looking at the price ranges first and then locations. Although he loved Boston, there was something about Chatham that always remained close to his heart.

  His finger stopped at a four-bedroom, one and a half bath Cape Cod home in the reasonable price range. “Stone patio.” “West-facing lawn.” An image of himself mowing the lawn on Saturday mornings flashed through his mind, a picture of Maddy in a straw hat and gardening gloves working with her sensitive fingers among the flowerbeds.

  Peter looked up and across the street at the wall of apartment buildings. “I want my own slice of heaven,” he said out loud. “I want to till the soil for a garden for Maddy. I want to grow tomatoes and pick them right out of the yard for last-minute salad.” He glanced back down at the ad. “I want a home in need of just a little carpentry so I can plan projects with Maddy and remodel or restore it all myself on the weekends.”

  It was all so clear in his mind.

  “I want that life.”

  Peter folded the paper in his hands and stood to walk inside. He trembled a bit as he felt the cold front moving in. He looked up at the swiftly moving clouds overhead. November had arrived, and right now the most important thing he needed to do was to call the plumber back.

  It was evening in Denver, Maddy was playing hand games with her little niece Lilly while Sam watched and Kate cleared the table. Lilly reached to slap Maddy’s hand and missed. Maddy laughed, Lilly shrieked, and before anyone could move Maddy’s wine glass wobbled and went over. Lilly burst into tears.

  “Lilly!” Sam leapt forward with a napkin. “Did she get it on you, Madeline?”

  Maddy stood and touched her jeans with her palms. “It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t cry. Aunt Madeline’s okay.”

  Lilly climbed awkwardly out of her chair and ran crying into the kitchen.

  “Katie, she’s fine! She just spilled something,” Sam called after her. “Are you okay?” he added softly across the table.

  “Really. It didn’t get on me.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “She told you?” Maddy’s head came up quickly.

  “It’s not like there’s anything to be embarrassed about. Don’t get mad. She was just worried about you. Kate loves you and so do I. You know that, right?”

  “I know, Sam. I’m blessed.” Maddy reached for his hand.

  Kate returned from the kitchen with a tray of coffee and cake, Lilly clinging to her leg. Kate glanced at Sam. Sam gestured with his chin, and Kate shook her head faintly.

  “Madeline, would you like coffee?”

  “Yes, please. But I would also like to know.”

  “What?” Kate set the tray on the table.

  “Why you invited me over tonight. You said you and Sam wanted to talk. So here I am. What’s it about? Spill it, Kate.”

  Kate sat down and signaled to Sam with her fingers. “Sam wants to read something to you. Sam?” Kate smiled weakly at him, taking Lilly on her lap, and he got up from the table to reach for a newspaper on a shelf.

  “My partner’s brother lives in Boston.” Sam sat down again. “I called him a few days ago to do a little research on Peter for me. I wanted him to find out a bit more about him and he did.”

  “Is something wrong? Is it something bad?”

  “Calm down, Madeline.” Kate touched Maddy’s hand. “Let Sam read the article.”

  “Why would there be an article in the paper about Peter?” Maddy turned her face from one voice to the other.

  “He made a copy of yesterday’s society page and faxed it to me.” Sam unfolded the paper and shook it out. “It’s about Peter and how he’s taken on this historical project that’s going to change Boston’s skyline. It’s big news.” Sam cleared his throat. “Here goes: ‘Peter Michaels of Rowland and Michaels Architectural Firm has been challenged with reconstruction of the Boston Historical Library Compound. Built in 1845, the Kessler and Brown edifice stood five stories high, its bell tower with ornate moldings a popular tourist attraction, until the fire of 1979. Boston Mayor Patrick Fleming, Massachusetts Governor Michael S. Dukakis and the Boston Historical Society signed Michaels after an extensive screening process. Michaels is excited about the project, especially as it coincides with his upcoming—’ ” Sam stopped reading.

  “What? Why did you stop?”

  Sam looked at Kate.

  “Don’t do this to me.” Maddy took Kate’s wrist and squeezed it hard. “I have to know.”

  “I’ll read it.” Kate took the paper from Sam and continued out loud over Lilly’s head. “ ‘Michaels is excited about the project, especially as it coincides with his upcoming wedding to socialite and entrepreneur Tara Spencer. Heralded as the event of the season, the wedding is rumored to include invitations to Senator and Mrs. Ted Kennedy.’ ”

  Kate put down the paper and took Sam’s hand. They looked at Maddy.

  She sat slowly back in her chair, twisting her napkin in her lap.

  “I’m sorry,” Kate said quietly after a moment.

  “We didn’t want to upset you.” Sam glanced at Kate.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Katie. I’m glad I found out. This changes everything.” Maddy glanced up. “I was right.”

  “Madeline—” Kate lifted Lilly quickly in her lap to pull her chair close
r to Maddy.

  “A mission of mercy.” Maddy’s voice was bitter. “Setting things right, making amends, finding closure, you know, before embarking on the next chapter in his life.”

  “You don’t know that,” Sam interjected.

  “The paper seems to. His fiancée? She must have been the woman who answered the phone when we called him, Katie.”

  Kate handed Lilly to Sam, who rose and walked heavily into the other room, Lilly gazing back over his shoulder with her thumb in her mouth as Kate took both Maddy’s hands. “Sweetie, we didn’t want to upset you. But we thought you should know.”

  Maddy pulled her hands away from Kate. “I’d like to go home now. I’m really tired. Can you take me home, Sam? Sam!” Maddy called his name out louder and louder, unable to stop, until her voice became hoarse.

  Chapter 31

  Shattered

  As soon as Jake left, Peter went straight to the bedroom phone. He stood in front of his mirror for a moment, mouthing Maddy’s name. After a minute he laughed out loud at his reflection. “You’re such a dimwit.” He nodded. “Just do it.” He dialed with a trembling hand and listened to the phone ring.

  “Hello,” Maddy answered. “Peter.”

  “Yes, hi! Is this a good time?”

  “No, actually it isn’t.”

  Peter paused. “I’m sorry.” He listened, but he couldn’t read the inflection in her voice. “Do you want me to call later?”

  “Honestly, I don’t. I don’t want you to call me now, later, or tomorrow.”

  “What’s wrong, Maddy?” Peter sat on the bed and braced his feet.

  “Stop calling me that! No one’s called me that in years.”

  He moved the phone to the other ear. “I didn’t know it upset you.”

  “Upset me? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Maddy, did I do something?” Peter was fingering the collar of his shirt, but he stopped when he heard her exhale hard.

  “Listen. You obviously have a lot of issues, Peter and you are definitely not the person I remember. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but know that I’m not interested in being a part of this sick charade.”

  “Do you mind telling me what you’re talking about?” His voice rose.

  “I know about the article.”

  Peter’s heart pounded suddenly against his sternum. He felt his weight sinking into the carpet, his head buzzing. He threw himself back on the bed, the phone pressed on his ear and his eyes closed as he listened.

  “The Tribune article about your library project. My sister read it to me. Congratulations on that, by the way. I know all about your high-society wedding with Ms. Whoever-she-is. That must be who we spoke to on the phone when Kate called your house.”

  “What do you mean—” Peter sat up. “—’When you called my house’?”

  “I know your fiancée’s gown cost eight thousand dollars. I know you’re having beef Wellington at your reception dinner, and I even know Senator Ted Kennedy might be at the—what did they call it?—The Boston Event of the Year?”

  “Maddy—”

  “Maddy what? What could you possibly have to say to me now?”

  “There was a mistake—” Peter said urgently.

  “The Tribune made a mistake? The caterers made a mistake? The architects made a mistake?” Maddy was crying out into the phone now. “The Kennedys made a mistake?”

  “It’s confusing, I know, but—”

  “Confusing? I’ll tell you what’s confusing. Twenty years ago I was very sick. I lost my sight, my home, my friends, and most of all the love of my life. Until a few weeks ago, that is, when I encountered a man so kind and sweet I felt as if I could finally learn trust again. Until I found out that was all a lie. You lied to me, and any trust I’d had in you was shattered. But I still put myself out there one more time. I listened to your pleading and explanations, your apologies and excuses. I actually believed in you again. I was even excited about talking to you on the phone. Excited! Now Kate brings me this article raving about your happy nuptials, and all I can think is what a complete and total idiot I have been, what an idiot I have always been.”

  “Maddy, please listen. My parents confessed to me about your mother’s letter. They didn’t tell me at the time. I never knew! They were afraid I’d drop out of grad school to come after you, that I’d be drafted into the Vietnam War, and I would have dropped out, too. I didn’t care what happened to me. Maddy, Maddy! I would have done anything for you.”

  “My mother’s letter? What are you talking about? I forbade my mother to write to you. I will not listen to any more lies, Peter. You’ve turned me into an emotional wreck just when my life was on an even keel. Well, I don’t want any part of it. Are you paying attention, Mr. Michaels? I won’t have you breaking my heart again.” Maddy paused to catch her breath.

  “I won’t,” Peter said softly. “I’ll never break your heart again.”

  There was a short silence, and then Maddy cried out one last time. “Oh, Peter!” The phone suddenly went dead.

  Peter lay frozen for a long time on his back on the bed, listening to the empty sound of the dial tone.

  Ten minutes later, he was on the phone again making a plane reservation. He was going to Colorado first thing in the morning. He and Maddy belonged together, and they both knew it.

  Peter felt better as he stepped in the shower. His bags were packed and sitting at the foot of his bed. He was just checking his phone book and making sure he had enough checks in his checkbook when he paused at the sight of the shoebox on the corner of his dresser. He opened it and took out the small silver chain. He smiled and pressed it to his mouth. He closed his eyes against the touch of the little diamond heart against his lips. For an instant, it still smelled of snowflakes.

  He slipped it into his wallet. By this time the following evening, it would be back around Maddy’s slender neck, forever.

  He was laying his wallet and keys out on the dresser with a clean pair of jeans next to the shoebox when the pounding of the door startled him. He hurried into his pajamas and jogged down the hall to the living room.

  “Peter, you there? Open up!”

  He jerked open the door to Jake leaning on the door frame out of breath.

  “What are you doing here?” Peter backed into the room, buttoning his pajama shirt against the cold November night. “Everything all right?”

  “I called, but you didn’t answer. Were you screening?”

  “Just in the shower. What’s wrong?”

  “Sit down, buddy. Tara was over a little while ago.”

  “Was she a mess? I feel sick about this. But I had to do it, right? I’m flying to Denver in the morning—”

  “Shut up a second. Peter. She’s pregnant.”

  “Tara?”

  “Look, man, it sounds like she might decide not to have the baby.”

  “What?” Peter’s legs went out from under him, and he crumpled against the kitchen counter.

  “She didn’t want you to know. She wanted to tell you when she was ready, ‘if it was necessary.’ Those were her words. What are you going to do?”

  “I have to talk to her.” Peter pressed a palm to his forehead. “Oh, God. It’s my baby we’re talking about. Holy—Jake, I’m a father. Jake, I’m not ready. What do I do? I can’t believe this.” Peter yanked open the closet door and fumbled for a coat.

  “You’re in your pajamas, man. Don’t you want to change?”

  “I have to see Tara.” Peter was shoving his arms into his coat sleeves. “Do you think she’s home by now?”

  “She should be. She left a while ago. What are you going to say to her?”

  “I don’t know, Jake. Oh, God—”

  “Listen, did I do the right thing? Telling you?”

  “Of course you did. Thank you.” Peter sh
rugged his coat up over his shoulders and snapped off the overhead light, reaching for his keys, his face running with cold sweat.

  “No offense, Peter, but this is one of the few times in our lives I haven’t wanted to switch places with you.”

  “You with me? It’s the other way around.” Peter opened the front door. He stopped and looked at him. “Jake, you know it has always been the other way around.”

  Peter could see Tara through the glass window in her front door. She hesitated before she opened it.

  He stood on the step outside in his coat and pajama pants, in loafers with no socks. He raised his head and looked into her eyes, red and swollen, then down at her stomach, and he began to cry. Peter knelt and put his arms around her waist, crying into her body. Tara ran her hands along his head, her fingers through his long, soft hair. His sobbing was deep and shook him violently. They remained in the doorway holding one another for a long time.

  Part

  Two

  Chapter 32

  Christmas

  1999

  Peter drove while his daughter played with the radio. “Wow, honey! How many times can they play that song?”

  “It’s Prince, Daddy! He’s the coolest. It is the last year of the millennium. Everyone wants to party like—”

  Peter joined in as Madeline finished her sentence. “—It’s 1999!”

  He looked at her, and they laughed as she bent to fiddle with the radio again. “Madeline, sweetheart,” he said a second later. “That’s not even music. It’s just screaming.”

  “Daddy, everybody listens to Grunge! Aren’t you a musician? Aren’t you supposed to appreciate all types of music?”

  “I’m not a musician. Who told you that? I played guitar a little once upon a time.”

  “Aunt Amy. She says the girls all went crazy after you—you were their heart-throb.”

  Peter laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Your Aunt Amy has a warped imagination.”

  Madeline smiled up at Peter as he drove. She sat back and braced her feet on the dashboard, her small, adolescent hands dangling between her knees. “I just can’t wait to see Grandma and Grandpa.”