Christmas Forever

by Sophie Love

  Daniel went off upstairs to fetch Terry. They both came down a little while later.

  “Emily, I’m so happy to see you,” Terry said, kindly, offering her a gentle hug. “It’s just not been the same around here without you.”

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling as she echoed his sentiments. “I’ve missed this place so much. And you.”

  They headed outside then and began first by clearing the debris from the greenhouse in Trevor’s grounds. Daniel and Terry took on most of the heavy lifting work, with Chantelle mainly acting like the manager. Emily was on hand with a broom to sweep away broken shards of glass and salvage as many plants as she could. With everyone working together, the work was much less laborious. Emily was even enjoying herself. It was much better than being cooped up in a hospital bed after all!

  Once the fallen debris was removed, they got a much better sense of the destruction. Many of the plants had been completely flattened, the pots they’d been growing in crushed. The bench was fine, but the stone bird bath had snapped off at its base. Luckily, the fruit trees they’d planted in Trevor’s memory had survived.

  “Look at this,” Chantelle said, suddenly.

  Everyone went over to see what she was indicting. Beneath her right foot, there was a wooden trap door.

  “Was that always there?” Chantelle asked, blinking up at her parents and Terry.

  Emily frowned. “It must have been. But it was covered by something so we didn’t notice. Do you think Trevor knew about it?”

  She couldn’t imagine the meticulously organized man to have missed something like a secret trap door in his greenhouse. Would there be a basement beneath? It was most unusual!

  “Trevor must have known,” Chantelle said. “He knew about everything.”

  “I wonder what’s down there?” Terry said.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Daniel replied.

  He crouched down and tugged on the large round, rusty handle of the trapdoor. It resisted at first, and he tugged again, straining. This time, it creaked upwards. A cloud of dust and mildewed air gushed out.

  “I wonder how long it’s been since it was opened!” Emily exclaimed. She was a mixture of thrilled and terrified.

  “What’s down there, daddy?” Chantelle asked, bouncing on her tiptoes with excitement.

  Daniel frowned. “I can see wooden steps leading down. It looks like it was a pantry once. Somewhere to store vegetables over winter.”

  “How exciting!” Chantelle squealed, clapping her hands. “Can we go down and look?”

  “Yes, but we’ll need flashlights,” Daniel said. “There don’t appear to be any windows and it’s very dark.”

  Terry went back to the house with Daniel to collect flashlights, and once every one had one, they began to follow the steps down into the darkness. Thought they creaked beneath each footstep they seemed sturdy.

  “It smells funny down here,” Chantelle said. “Like old stew.”

  “That will probably be because of all the potatoes that got stored in here once,” Daniel said, and he flashed his light onto a hessian sack with the word POTATOES written upon it in thick, black writing. “Look at that! It’s like a relic from a museum.”

  Just then, they heard Chantelle gasp from behind them. Emily’s first thought was a spider’s web and she tensed. But then she remembered Chantelle wasn’t scared of spiders and so something else had made the child gasp.

  She braced herself before turning. But when she looked, she saw that Chantelle’s flashlight was on a wooden shelving unit that took up the entirety of one wall. And on every single inch of every single shelf was a piece of silver crockery. Dulled from the dust, but clearly silver.

  “What on earth…?” Emily said beneath her breath.

  They all hurried forward. Emily’s hand fell first to a silver teapot, Daniel’s to a large serving platter with designs carved into it. Chantelle found a gravy boat whilst Terry held up a collection of serving spoons. Then Daniel reached up to the highest shelf and pulled down two beautiful butter dishes shaped like shells. From the lowest shelves, Chantelle held up fruit basket, then a soup dish, and finally a collection of drinking goblets. They didn’t need an antiquarian to tell them that they were holding precious antiques made of solid silver.

  Emily’s mouth fell open as she turned the teapot over in her hands. She’d seen such teapots before and knew immediately it was an original, from the Victorian era. It, alone, would be worth thousands. But the collection included even more rare items, like the soup dish which would fetch over ten thousands dollars on its own.

  “There’s so much of it,” she exclaimed. “And to think Trevor kept it a secret!”

  Chantelle was so excited. “There’s enough here to help Terry rebuild his house and farm.”

  Terry looked stunned. “Oh, gosh. I couldn’t take any. It’s not mine. It’s your silver on your property.”

  “But you helped us find it,” Chantelle said.

  Emily spoke next. “Chantelle’s right. It would only be fair to share this. Why don’t I call Rico and see if he’d be able to value it all?”

  They went back into the inn, and whilst Daniel made coffee, Emily called Rico, the ancient man who owned the local antiques store. Her hands were shaking as she did so.

  “It’s definitely real silver,” she told him. “In need of a polish but all in great condition otherwise. I think it’s a complete set.”

  “Is there a name on any of the pieces?” Rico asked.

  “There are initials on the bottom of each piece,” Emily told him. “WG. Does that mean anything to you?”

  Rico gasped. “I wonder if it’s the mark of William Gamble. He was one of the group of infamous Soho silversmiths.”

  “I’ve heard that name before,” Emily said, nodding with excitement. Though her interest in antiques was nowhere near as extensive as Roy’s or Rico’s, she knew enough to recognize some of the more prominent people.

  “I’m sure you would have,” Rico agreed. “He was an English silversmith working in the seventeen hundreds. Popular amongst the royals. Though his aren’t especially rare, they sell for thousands of dollars. And you’re quite sure it’s WG? Not EG? He had family members in the trade as well you see, though his are considered more collector’s items.”

  “I’m positive!” Emily exclaimed. “It’s WG.”

  It was a Christmas miracle. To think all this time they’d been sitting on hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of antique silver. There would be enough, once shared between them all, for Terry’s house to be rebuilt and his business to start again.

  “Do you know anyone who’d want to buy it?” Emily asked Rico.

  “You mean other than every antique dealer in the world?” Rico chuckled in reply. “I’ll pass some details on to you of some of the best auction houses in Maine. There’s a wonderful one specializing in silver. Sutcliff’s I think it’s called. I’ll call them first. Oh Elody, this is wonderfully exciting!”

  Emily didn’t bother correcting his mistake over her name. Rico had never been able to remember her name, even if he could remember every single last detail about antiques! Instead, she wished Rico a Happy Christmas and ended the call, thrilled by the news.

  As she went off in search of her family to tell them the good news, she realized she was more happy for Terry than herself. He’d gone through so much misfortune, it was about time he had something good to look forward to.

  *

  Emily settled down on the couch that evening, tucking her feet up beneath her. A steaming mug of Daniel’s speciality hot chocolate sat on the coffee table before her, and the dogs snoozed beside the lit fireplace. She felt more relaxed and at peace than she had in days.

  Daniel and Chantelle crept into the room then, carrying a tray. Emily sat up straight, craning to see what was upon it.

  “Cookies,” Chantelle said. “The ones we made while you were in hospital.”

  “Oh look, they’re adorable!” Emily cried,
looking at the roughly reindeer-shaped cookies. She took one off the tray and bit into it. It made a loud cracking noise.

  Chantelle and Daniel looked at her expectantly, clearly waiting for her evaluation. Emily chewed hard, her teeth crunching against the brittle cookie, and made the silent assessment that wasn’t anywhere near enough sugar in it.

  “It’s delicious,” she said allowed, swallowing cookie chards with great effort.

  She noticed then that there was something else on the tray. A card. She picked it up. It was hand drawn by Chantelle.

  “Is that me?” Emily asked, as she studied the extremely pregnant looking stick figure depicted on the front, who was covered in sequins and glitter.

  “Yup,” Chantelle said. “And that’s Charlotte.”

  She pointed at the huge belly. Emily noticed that she’s stuck two googly eyes onto it and chuckled.

  “It’s beautiful, sweety. Thank you. I’m so happy to be home. Back with you all.”

  “I just wish Papa Roy was here,” Chantelle said, glumly. “And Nana Patty.”

  “I know, hun,” Emily said, smoothing her fingers through the girl’s hair. “But if they want to spend Christmas alone, we have to respect that.”

  Chantelle looked up at her then. “I called him again,” she blurted, like it was a secret she’d been keeping. “After daddy did. He didn’t answer but I left a voicemail about how you were in hospital and needed him.”

  “You did?” Emily asked, shocked. Part of her felt proud of Chantelle for being so confident and bold. But she also worried to hear what she’d done. She didn’t want her father to be concerned about her. In his fragile state it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it.

  Just then, there was a ring at the doorbell. Chantelle’s eyebrows shot up.

  “It won’t be him,” Emily told her, not wanting her hopes to be raised then dashed.

  “But who else would it be?” Chantelle said, suddenly spirited as she headed for the door. “We’re not expecting visitors are we? I mean, it’s Christmas Eve, everyone will be at home!”

  Daniel helped Emily up from the couch and they followed Chantelle out the room and along the corridor. She was already waiting by the door for them, and the bell rang again, causing her to flap her arms like an impatient chicken.

  When they reached the door, Daniel opened it.

  Emily’s gaze fell to the figure standing before her. She blinked once, then twice, not believing it. She even rubbed her eyes, expecting the mirage before her to disappear. But the person on her doorstep was still there when she opened them again. It was her father. It was Roy.

  “Dad!” Emily screamed. She threw herself into his open arms.

  Chantelle squealed loudly, jumping up and down like Papa Roy was Santa Claus himself.

  “What are you doing here?” Emily exclaimed, clutching onto her father.

  “Vladi told me Daniel had called,” Roy replied. “Then I got Chantelle’s message. When I heard you were in hospital I realized I had to be here. It wasn’t fair to expect you to come and visit me once Charlotte arrived. I needed to be here for you.”

  “Oh dad,” Emily cried, and her tears began to fall, staining the front of his shirt.

  Finally, he released her, and Chantelle immediately occupied the vacant space, hugging him tightly.

  “I’m so happy you’re here,” she gushed. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”

  Daniel reached over and gripped Roy’s shoulder in one of his hands, squeezing to express his love and gratitude.

  At last Emily understood why Charlotte hadn’t been in a hurry to be born. She’d wanted her Papa Roy here to meet her. Fate always had a way of making things work out, she realized.

  “Come in, out of the cold, the fire’s on!” Emily said, ushering her father inside, staring at him like he was worth more than all the silver in Trevor’s pantry ten times over.

  “I think this calls for some hot cocoa,” Daniel said.

  “And roasted chestnuts,” Emily added.

  “And songs around the piano,” Chantelle said.

  Everyone laughed, gazing adoringly at Papa Roy as they led him into the warm, firelit living room. Roy was here. It really was a Christmas miracle.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Once the initial excitement of Roy’s appearance died down, Emily could see how much more frail he was. It must have been a shock to his body to fly all the way here. She understood now why he’d been so resistant to her messages. He must have felt terrible about letting them all down, but clearly he hadn’t had much choice. He was too sick to travel. The fact he’d even made it here seemed like a miracle, indeed, and Emily felt so grateful for her emergency hospital visit; however unpleasant the experience had been, it had been the catalyst that had finally brought her father to her side.

  Chantelle had fallen asleep on the couch, so Daniel scooped her up and left with her in his arms, to put her in bed, leaving just Emily and her father alone.

  From the couch beside her, Roy reached across and patted her hand. “How overdue are you now Emily-Jane?”

  “My due date was the 13th and I’m eleven days past that now. But I’m not 42 weeks yet so I’m not really considered overdue. I still fall within the bracket of full term.”

  “What happens on Sunday then? It will be the last day of being full term, won’t it? What if she still hasn’t arrived by then?”

  “Then I see my doctor each morning for check ups until she comes.”

  “Gosh,” Roy said. “You must be extremely uncomfortable.”

  “Honestly, it’s not as bad as it has been,” Emily told him. “When I was throwing up all the time in the first trimester it was much worse. Now it’s just a case of moving around being somewhat difficult, and heavy, but I’m not in pain or anything. I’m sure that will all change on Sunday.” She smiled wanly. Then she turned her concern back on him. “But how are you, dad? Really? I know you’ve been avoiding speaking to me.”

  Roy looked ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you at these late stages.”

  Emily sighed. “Do you understand that I worry more when I don’t hear from you? We all do. But I’m glad you’re okay. And here.”

  Roy nodded. “It’s been a very trying time for me. I made a decision, a medical one, and needed some time to process it all.”

  Emily recalled what Vladi had told her on the phone, that Roy was in the process of dealing with something and needed time alone to process it. She grew concerned.

  “What decision? What are you talking about?”

  Roy hesitated for a moment, as if deliberating over whether he should divulge it to her. Then finally, having grappled with his decision, he spoke. “I’ve signed an AND. Do you know what that means?”

  Emily shook her head.

  Roy continued, explaining to her. “It stands for Allow Natural Death. It’s a prefered term by patients, a more positive term to replace the old medical version, DNR.”

  Emily’s heart clenched. She’d seen another medical television programs to know what DNR meant. It was an abbreviation for Do Not Resuscitate. Her father had essentially made a declaration to forgo an kind of rescuitation intervention. In the event of a medical emergency, first responders or hospital staff dealing with him would not be allowed to perform CPR, heart defibulation, or adrenaline shots. Essentially, he’d made it so that no one could intervene to save his life should his heart give out at any point.

  “Why?” she asked, feeling tears welling in her eyes. The news had stung her. It felt like a betrayal, like a refusal to fight. “Why would you want to just give up like that?”

  “Look at me,” Roy said, sadly, indicating to his bony body. “It wouldn’t be like how it is on television. It’s not like I’d bounce back to a healthy life. My body wouldn’t be able to heal itself. Any extra time it gave me would only be temporary. It would only prolong my pain.”

  “And that’s not worth it?” Emily asked, sounding hurt. “It’s not
worth it for one more day with us? With me?”

  She began to weep loudly. Roy reached for her, drawing her into his arms like a little girl. He held her as she sobbed, and spoke into the crown of her head.

  “If it’s my time to go, it’s my time to go. I would prefer to fall asleep one night and not wake up, then go through even more painful procedures in order to pass away a little later without dignity. That is why we prefer the term AND. Allow natural death. It’s about acceptance, about respecting the cycle of life and death. We must all go one day, and I am choosing to give that choice to fate, for it to be the way nature intends rather than prolonging it just because we have the medical advancements to do so. ”

  With her ear pressed against his heart, Emily listened to his words rumbling through his chest, trying to understand where he was coming from. She couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult his day to day life must be if an earlier death was preferable to a prolonged life.

  Roy continued speaking to her softly, like she was a little child. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain. That’s why I didn’t tell you. But do you understand why I want it that way? Why I want to put my faith into the natural order of things?”

  There was nothing to be done about it, Emily realized. Roy had made his choice. If his heart failed before the cancer claimed him, it would all be over. He’d given himself the option of a sudden, abrupt death rather than a slow, painful wasting away. Who was Emily to challenge that decision? He knew his body and his needs better than she. It was what she’d been trying to tell Daniel all along with her pregnancy. It wouldn’t be fair not to respect Roy’s wishes when she demanded everyone respect hers. He knew what was best for him. He wanted to put his faith in fate, not medicine. Hadn’t she been demanding the same thing by refusing to be induced?

  “I understand,” she whimpered. “It’s just so unfair.”

  “I know.”