Christmas Forever
Page 7
“Look at you go!” Emily cried at Chantelle. “You’re very steady on your feet.”
Daniel leaned over the barrier and kissed Emily. “Which is more than can be said for me! I’m feeling pretty wobbly up here.”
“So guess what,” Emily told Chantelle. “Yvonne has said you can have a sleepover with Bailey when we go away. Is that alright?”
“YAY!” Chantelle said. “I can’t wait.”
“You two can bake cookies and watch films,” Yvonne said. “Sound good?”
Chantelle nodded. Then she looked over at Emily
“Are you going to come skating, mommy?” Chantelle asked.
Emily patted her stomach. “I don’t think it would be a good idea. I’d hate to fall.”
As if on cue, someone took a tumble. They landed with a heavy thud noise. One of the helpers skated over and got them back on their feet. They weren’t hurt, but their pride was clearly damaged.
“See,” Emily said. “Baby Charlotte would not be very pleased if I did that to her.”
Chantelle pouted. “Maybe it would make her come out quicker.”
Emily laughed. “I don’t want her to come out quicker! I want her to stay cosy and warm inside for as long as she wants to.”
“Have you passed the due date?” Yvonne asked.
“No, it’s December 13th,” Emily told her. “But my mom takes great delight in telling me I’ll be at least two weeks late.”
“Make it twelve days and you’ll have a Christmas baby!” Yvonne added.
Daniel and Chantelle laughed at the prospect. Emily rubbed her stomach. It was all getting so close, becoming so real. Sooner or later, Baby Charlotte would be here to say hello.
*
That evening, the family spent some time in the living room, relaxing by the fire. Despite a busy day of snowmen building and ice skating, the downtime made Emily’s mind turn to her father. She kept drifting off into wistful daydreaming. It didn’t help that Chantelle was drawing a picture on the floor before her with the giant words FOR PAPA ROY at the top of the paper.
She untucked her legs from beneath her and stood. “Maybe I should call Vladi.”
Daniel looked at the clock. “It will be too late in Greece. Everyone will be sleeping.”
“It’s my last option,” Emily replied.
Chantelle looked up at her, concern in her eyes. Daniel stood too, bringing an arm around Emily and leading her from the room so they could continue the conversation in private.
She faced him. “In the morning, then. I’ll call Vladi first thing.”
Daniel reached for her. “We did promise only to call Vladi in an emergency and vice versa.”
“Doesn’t this count?” Emily said. “Days of silence?”
“I honestly don’t think it does. I know it’s hard, but this is Roy’s way. You know it, I know it. We don’t have to like it. But it is what he does.”
Emily knew what Daniel was saying was true, but she just couldn’t quell her worry. “Maybe if I just spoke to Vladi I’d be able to calm down.”
Daniel touched her bump tenderly. “If it will help put your mind at rest, then it would be for the best. But I don’t think it’s necessary, personally. I thinkk Roy’s just gone off the radar, like he does. It doesn’t matter how many voicemails you leave or emails you send, or how many times you call Vladi and hear that Roy’s okay. Worrying won’t make him get in contact any quicker. If it could, we wouldn’t have spent twenty years wondering where he was.”
Emily didn’t like thinking of those times during which her father was deemed missing. The only good to come of them was that it brought she and Daniel closer. Since Roy had been a father figure to Daniel, his disappearance had been just as painful for him as it had for her, and they were the only two people in the world who shared that particular pain.
“Try to think of the baby,” Daniel said. “The stress won’t be good for her.”
“You’re right,” Emily said.
She vowed to push it from her mind tonight at the least. Tomorrow, if she still felt this awful, she would speak to Vladi.
“Come on,” Daniel said. “Let’s make dinner. That might help take your mind off things.”
They went to the kitchen and cooked together. Emily realized Danie was right. The task was relaxing, and the more she occupied herself, the less she worried.
Soon, they were all sat together in the dining room, slurping chicken stew. They’d just finished seconds when the doorbell rang.
“Will that be Owen?” Chantelle asked, with a yawn.
She seemed far too exhausted for a singing lesson, Emily thought.
“Maybe,” she said, discarding her napkin on the table and standing. “Although he’s a little early. I’ll go let him in.”
She left the dining room and walked through the foyer to the front door. But when she opened it, it was not Owen waiting on the steps for her, but a face she recognized but could not place. An older man, stubbly gray hair on his chin, deep-set lines across his forehead.
“Terry?” Emily said. “I didn’t recognize you!”
She realized as she said it the reason why; she’d only ever seen him with a smile on his face.
“Evening. Sorry I’m so late. It wasn’t so easy to get a taxi driver with the roads like they are.”
Emily blushed, realizing she’d quite forgotten he was coming.
“Come in. Would you like some food? We’ve just had dinner so can easily fix you up a plate.” She looked over her shoulder and called in the direction of the dining room. “Daniel? Can you come and help with Terry’s bags?”
She looked back and smiled at Terry as he stepped out of the cold, dark evening and into the warmth of the inn. He had an embarrassed look on his face, like he was worried he was already a nuisance. Emily saw then that he had no bags. Terry had arrived with nothing but the clothes on his back. Her heart ached for him.
Daniel appeared behind her, Chantelle hovering beside him, shy but excited to meet their guest.
“Can you fix Terry up some food?” Emily asked Daniel.
“Of course,” Daniel said, smiling kindly. “I hope you like chicken stew, Terry. We’ve got a vat of the stuff!”
“That’s very kind,” Terry said, and Emily could hear his voice hitch with emotion.
“Come into the lounge,” she said, guiding him towards the door. “We’re going to get a fire going and then Chantelle’s singing teacher will be over to help her learn some songs for her Christmas show.”
“How delightful,” Terry said. “Back before I was a Christmas tree farmer, I had plans to be a singer.”
“You did?” Chantelle asked, her eyes widening.
“Oh yes,” Terry replied. “I had a little guitar I’d take out onto the street corners and I’d sing Elvis classics. I was a proud young man then. I was certain I’d get to be famous one day.”
He saw the piano in the corner of the room then, Roy’s antique one that Emily had had restored when she first arrived at the inn.
“Gosh, she’s a beauty isn’t she,” Terry said. “May I?”
“Please,” Emily said, gesturing with her hand.
She took a seat at the round table in the window and looked over at him as he took his position. Chantelle stood right beside the piano, clearly wanting to be as close to the action as possible.
Terry played a chord, softly, then another, as if reacquainting himself with the sensation. Then he played a simple melody with his right hand. Emily recognized the tune. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. It was one of her favorites, though it always brought a sense of melancholy with it, she thought. Her father had sung it too, when she was younger, at that very piano, and she thought of him now, her heart skipping with emotion.
Terry brought his left hand up to the bass notes, and instead of playing the tune now, he played the accompaniment. A rich, warm sound filled the living room, and it was followed swiftly by Terry’s own voice as he began to sing the words. He really was a
n amazing singer. His big-headedness in youth had been justified!
Daniel came in holding tray. On it was a bowl of stew for Terry and four steaming mugs of his special tea. He stopped in the doorway, watching, as if spell-bound by the song. Chantelle looked up at him and grinned. She, more than anyone, seemed enamored by Terry’s talent.
Terry reached the last line of the song, and slowed the tempo just slightly. “So have yourself a merry little Christmas day…” The final word rang out, painful in its beauty.
Terry stopped, and removed his hands from the piano. There was a stunned silence. Then finally, Emily began to clap.
“Amazing,” she said.
Chantelle threw her arms around Terry’s neck. “That was awesome!” she yelled.
Terry laughed and patted her arms shyly.
She let go. “Terry, once Owen moves to Singapore, will you be my new singing teacher?”
“Chantelle,” Emily said in her warning voice. “Give Terry at least five minutes to settle in before you bombard him.”
“And let him eat his dinner,” Daniel added, holding up the tray.
Terry stood and came over to the table. He accepted the dinner from Daniel. Daniel and Chantelle took the other two seats, and everyone took a mug of tea from the tray.
“What is your Christmas play this year, Chantelle?” Terry asked.
“A Seussified Christmas Carol,” she told him. “I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past. I have a solo. Owen’s coming over to help me practise.”
“I can’t wait to hear your voice,” Terry said, munching on a spoonful of stew. “I saw you sing once in church.”
“You did?” Chantelle asked, looking excited.
“Yes. You have a very lovely voice.”
Chantelle beamed with pride.
Daniel went over to the hearth to light a fire and soon the room was filled with warm, orange light. Then the bell rang again.
“That will be Owen,” Daniel said.
He went to answer the door, and a few moments later returned to the living room with Owen in tow.
“Terry,” Owen said when he saw the older gentleman at the window table. He extended a hand. “I’m happy to see you. Such terrible news. Are you alright?”
Terry struggled to hold back the tears as he shook Owen’s hand. “I’ve been offered food and a bed by Emily. Now I’m about to be serenaded by Chantelle. I’d say things are looking up.”
Owen went over to the piano and took out the sheet music for Chantelle’s play.
They’d practiced the song a few times when a clattering noise came from the foyer. Emily immediately knew it was Evan, Stu and Clyde returned home from the bar. Somehow they always managed to make a lot of noise.
“Are we having a Christmas sing-a-long?” Stu asked, poking his head around the door.
Owen looked at Chantelle. “What do you say? Had enough practise? Shall we finish out the night with a sing-a-long?”
Chantelle looked very tired. She yawned and nodded. “It’s someone else’s turn to sing!”
Daniel’s three friends came and sat on the couch. Chantelle snuggled up to Emily, with Mogsy and Rain sleeping on her other side.
“Terry?” Owen asked. “Would you like to play?”
Terry looked shy. But Chantelle’s eyes widened.
“Yes! Please, Terry!” she cried.
“Okay,” he said, taking over from Owen. “What songs do people want to sing?”
“Something happy,” Chantelle said.
“I agree,” Emily added with a nod. “And fun to sing. How about Deck The Halls?”
“Yeah!” Chantelle cried.
Terry pressed some notes, trying to find the correct key. Then he struck out the beginning chords. Everyone joined in, singing the opening line, followed by an exuberant chorus of fa la la la la, la la la la! As the song progressed, their fa la la’s became louder, more extravagant and theatrical. By the time the song ended every single person in the room was laughing hysterically, their moods lifted by Christmas cheer.
CHAPTER SIX
There was still snow the next morning, but not enough to keep the school closed. Down in the kitchen at breakfast, Chantelle pouted.
“It’s not fair. I don’t want to go back to school. I want to build another snow giant.”
“Sorry chicken,” Emily said, stroking her hair. “But it’ll be the Christmas vacation before you know it. And you’re probably not going to be doing anything too taxing at this time of year!”
“We all have to go to work anyway,” Stu told her, pointing at Clyde and Evan with his thumbs. “So it’s not like you’re not missing out on anything fun.” He winked cheekily.
“And there wouldn’t be anyone to help you climb to the top of your ladder,” Clyde joined in.
“And,” Daniel added, “All your friends will all be at school so you’ll have more fun there that you will do here!”
Chantelle seemed cheered up. She looked at Emily. “What are you doing today, mommy?”
Emily took a deep breath. There were two things on her mind she wanted to tackle. The first was calling Vladi. The second was Amy, whom she’d been thinking of ever since their fight. She was always at the back of her mind. She’d been trying to let time heal the rift but perhaps some more action was required on her part. “I’ve got some calls to make.”
“To Vladi?” Chantelle guessed.
Emily nodded. “And Amy. I want to see if she’ll meet up with me. We had a bit of a disagreement and I want to patch it up.”
Chantelle’s eyes widened slightly. “What was the fight about?”
“Grown up stuff. Boring business things.”
Chantelle pulled a face. “Oh. Well tell her to stop being silly. It’s almost Christmas and you’re best friends.”
“Wise words,” Emily replied.
It was time for Stuart, Evan and Clyde to leave for work, so they stood up then and deposited their dirty crockery in the sink, making their usual clattering noise as they did. Emily sometimes felt like she was living with a herd of elephants having them around the house.
“We’d better get to school, too,” Daniel said, looking at the clock. “Ready Chantelle?”
The little girl nodded. She hopped down from her stool and kissed Emily on the cheek, then collected her backpack. Daniel kissed Emily goodbye as well, and she listened as the pair stomped down the hallway and out the front door. With everyone gone, a quietness descended around Emily.
She bit the inside of her mouth as she mulled over the words she would say to Amy on the phone. It seemed as though every time she tried to justify her actions, it upset Amy. So explaining herself would be futile.
She stood and picked up the kitchen phone, a vintage one with a long, curly chord that could stretch all the way to the island. She dialled Vladi’s number first.
The call connected a few seconds later. She heard the scritchy voice of Vladi on the other end, answering in Greek.
“Vladi, it’s Emily, Roy’s daughter.”
The elderly man switched straight to English. “Emily, hello! How are you? Has something happened? To the baby?” He sounded panicked, and Emily remembered how she’d promised to only call him in an emergency.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she assured him. “But to be perfectly honest, I’m worried. Dad isn’t replying to my calls or emails.”
There was a long pause. Finally Vladi spoke. “I know. I keep telling him he must. But he says no. He needs some space to work something out. That’s all he’ll say.”
“Work something out?” Emily asked. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know. But Emily, I think you will just need to be patient. He will call you back in his own time.”
Patient? When Roy’s time was running out so quickly!
“Can you tell me how he is, at least?” Emily asked. “Is he eating?”
“Oh yes. Like a horse.”
“Sailing?”
“Only when the sun is shining. Which
is every day.”
“Gardening?”
“Morning, noon and night. Truly, Emily, he is quite fine, quite himself. There is just something on his mind that he is processing. My promise still stands good. I will call if there is an emergency. You must trust me.”
“I do,” Emily said. “I just can’t help worrying.”
“I understand.”
Emily felt greatly reassured by her call with Vladi. Even if it hadn’t solved the mystery of why Roy wouldn’t speak to her, it was a relief to know he was the same, that his health hadn’t deteriorated.
Emily went back to the telephone on the wall. This time she dialled Amy’s number before pacing back to one of the stools and sitting.
Amy’s caller ID must have shown her who was calling, because she answered with a lacklustre, “Hello.”
“Amy, it’s me. Look, I know we’re never going to agree on certain things, but Chantelle made a great point over breakfast today. It’s Christmas. It’s time to be together, not fighting. Can we just have a coffee date like normal and chat about everything we usually do and just put that boring business stuff aside. Please?”
She stopped, her prepared monologue over, the ball now in Amy’s court.
“Yeah, I guess,” Amy replied.
“Really?” Emily said, feeling a heavy weight lift from her chest. “Oh Amy, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”
Amy didn’t sound as enthused, but her tone brightened a little. “I’m only agreeing to this because I need your help organizing stuff.”
“For the wedding?”
“Yes. And the house. And I guess you’ve done nothing about the babymoon, have you?”
Emily could help but smile to herself. Of course Amy’s need to micro-manage everything would be a band aid for the friendship!
“I’ve got a babysitter,” she explained. “But other than that, no. I guess I’m just useless without you.”
“Your words not mine,” Amy joked, and now she really started to sound like herself again. “Shall I come by yours? I presume I’m driving.”
“If you don’t mind,” Emily replied. The least she could do was give Amy control and let her feel superior. “I hate driving this pregnant.”