“It’s gorgeous. Wait till you see it. You know that antique reading lamp in Grace’s window, with the fringed shade? It looks just like that. Nicer, actually. Well, I think so,” she added, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
“I love that lamp. I think he’s wild about you,” Jessica decided. “A man with a broken leg doesn’t just fix up a lamp for a woman if he doesn’t really care.”
Emily cast her a thoughtful look and took another cookie. “Well, he is cooped up in the house all day. I guess he was looking for some project to keep him busy. Still, it was very thoughtful.”
“Absolutely. Want a cup of tea?” Jessica said, turning on the burner under the teakettle.
Emily nodded. “The problem is, we started off being friends, and now it’s hard to tell what’s really going on. I know what I wish would happen. But I’m not twenty-one anymore—or even thirty-one,” she said, with a small smile. “Sometimes I think I’m really falling for him. But as soon as his leg is better, he’s going to sail off on his trip. So what’s the use of getting more involved?”
“Oh, but you can’t be so pessimistic, Emily. Maybe Dan’s feeling the same way about you but doesn’t know what to do. Remember how it was with Sam and me? I kept telling him not to get his hopes up, because I planned on going back to the city—and when the time came to go, I couldn’t live without him.”
“I remember,” Emily said quietly. “You two are the classic happy ending.”
Although Jessica and Sam’s story did have a happy ending, Emily knew only too well that not every story did. Besides, it was different for her and Dan. For one thing, they were older. Life just didn’t seem that dramatic. They’d both had their hearts broken at least a few times and knew that even if you truly believed you couldn’t live without someone, if you had to—somehow—you just did. Not without tears and heartache, not without feeling something whittled away inside. But unbelievably enough, life went on.
She was now in a more cautious stage of life, Emily realized. She didn’t want to risk getting her heart broken, if she could avoid it. Deep down she knew she was past the stage of worrying about falling for Dan. She had fallen. Big time. And when she faced it squarely, it terrified her. What was going to happen? What should she do? It all seemed so impossible.
And yet, she still had an irrational glimmer of hope. Dan could change his mind and not go. Things could work out—couldn’t they?
She turned to her sister as Jessica returned to the table with two mugs of tea. “I do like Dan—more than like him,” she admitted. “It’s very hard for me. I haven’t felt this way for anyone in such a long time. Oh, I dated a few times, but that was different. I’d forgotten about this—this giddy, swept-off-your-feet feeling. I’m not sure I like it,” she confided, with a small smile. “It’s sort of scary.”
Jessica stared at her. “It’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you, Emily.” She reached over and squeezed Emily’s hand.
“Thanks, but don’t get too excited. I don’t really know how Dan feels. He hasn’t really said or done anything to give me hope. Except for the lamp, I guess.”
“Well, that’s something. Maybe he’s scared, too,” Jessica suggested. “After all, he had an unhappy marriage, and though he’s had years to find someone new, he hasn’t either.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Emily said. “I’m sure Dan has his own fears about relationships. But it’s more than that. I just don’t want to get my hopes up and end up disappointed. He always mentions that he’s leaving town as soon as he’s fit and able. He never seems to have any doubts about that, so maybe he’s trying to tell me something.”
“Maybe.” Jessica sipped her tea. “Then why the gorgeous lamp?”
Emily shrugged. “I don’t know. He wants me to keep a light in the window for him while he’s at sea?”
“Men! They’re so dense sometimes, I wouldn’t doubt it.”
They laughed together for a moment, then Jessica said, “I remember when things looked so bleak between me and Sam, Emily. I’ll never forget what you told me.”
“Oh, what was that?” Emily was almost afraid to hear her own sage advice tossed back at her. She nibbled on another cookie for distraction.
“You said something like, if I loved Sam, it was worth anything and not to let my pride get in the way and let my chance at happiness pass me by.”
“Good advice.” Emily nodded. “For you, I mean. I’m not so sure about Dan, though. I’d be willing to put my pride aside and tell him how I feel. I really would,” she said sincerely. “I just don’t think it would change his plans.”
Jessica looked at her for a long moment. “You don’t know that, Emily. You don’t know what he’s thinking. You’ve more or less just told me that.”
“I suppose.”
“Emily, I just don’t want to see you end up having regrets about this,” Jessica said quietly. “If you found someone you care for, you have to just go for it.”
Emily stared at her napkin. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t have the courage. I’ll have to see what happens, I guess.”
Jessica watched her for a moment. “When will he go, do you think?”
“Sometime after New Year’s. He’s going to have the big cast replaced by something smaller. Then a few weeks after that, he can leave.”
“Well, a lot can happen in a few weeks,” Jessica said optimistically.
“You really think so?” Emily tried hard to hide the note in her own voice that showed how eager she was for any bit of hope.
“I know so.”
“Well, we’ll see,” Emily replied after a moment. “At least there’s Sara now. Whenever I even start to feel down or lonely, I think about having her in my life, and it makes up for everything.”
“I can see that,” Jessica said, smiling softly at her.
“I’m just sorry sometimes that I’ve missed so much.” Emily shook her head. “Somehow, getting to know Sara now has made me think about that part even more. She’s such a terrific person, such a great young woman. I’m really so proud of her. But I know I didn’t have any part in raising her.”
“You could have another child, you know,” Jessica said softly.
“Oh, I couldn’t. It’s too late for that.”
“Don’t be silly; you’re only forty-two. Have you ever thought about it?”
“Sometimes,” Emily confessed. She’d thought about it more and more since Sara came into her life. She loved being a mother so much, even in the limited way that she tried to be a parent to Sara. She thought it would be wonderful to have another child and be able to raise him or her. But that dream seemed so far out of reach.
“It’s hard to think of having a baby when I don’t even have a relationship with anyone. Shouldn’t you check on the cookies? I think I smell something burning,” she said, purposely changing the subject.
Jessica jumped up and ran to the oven, catching the second batch in the nick of time.
There was a knock on the kitchen door. Emily saw Sara’s face at the window and rushed over to let her in. “You’re just in time to take over,” she greeted her. “I don’t think I passed the audition.”
“What do you mean?” Sara asked, as she shrugged off her coat.
“Emily made these cookies.” Jessica held out the tray with Emily’s oddly shaped efforts. “Sort of scary, don’t you think? More appropriate for, say, Halloween?”
“They taste fine,” Emily insisted, biting into another. “Your aunt is very fussy.”
“And now she’s trying to eat all the incriminating evidence,” Jessica continued.
“I can help with that,” Sara offered. She swiped a cookie, as Jessica whisked the tray out of reach. “But I’m just warning you guys, I’m really lame in the kitchen.”
Emily put her arm around Sara’s shoulder. “See, she does take after me in some ways,” she said proudly, giving her a hug. “Don’t you think?”
Jessica smiled. “Absolutely.”
ON THE WAY BACK
TO TOWN FROM JESSICA’S HOUSE, SARA COULDN’T avoid passing Luke’s property. She slowed to a near stop as she came to the turnoff. She had his gift stashed in the backseat of her car, wrapped and ready, though she wasn’t really sure how or when she would give it to him.
She turned and drove down the narrow road to the parking area. The sound of her car wheels on the gravel road seemed terrifically loud to her in the stillness. Luke’s SUV stood in the parking area, and she pulled up alongside it and turned off her headlights.
The lights in his cottage glowed behind drawn curtains. He must be home, she reasoned. It wasn’t really late, but she didn’t want to just knock on his door and hand him the gift. Sara pictured Luke’s face the last time she had seen him, the sad expression in his eyes. No, she didn’t want to face him right now. She wasn’t ready. Why give him the gift at all then? she wondered.
She wasn’t sure. Maybe to show him that even though she had disappointed him—and despite what he thought—he meant something to her. It was just something she wanted to do.
Sara grabbed the gift from the backseat and got out of her car. She left it on his truck, on the hood near the windshield, where he would be sure to find it. It was a clear, cold night. The package wouldn’t get wet, and there was no one around here to disturb it, she reasoned.
Then she got back in her car and headed home. She felt relieved, as if it had been the right thing to do. No matter how Luke felt about her now.
AFTER HAVING A SUNDAY DINNER WITH CAROLYN, RACHEL, AND JACK, Ben had left to visit two different members of the congregation who were in the hospital in Southport. He didn’t return home until nearly ten. He came in to find the house completely dark, except for a shaft of light coming from the kitchen, where Carolyn always left the light on over the stove.
She must be upstairs, gone to bed early, he thought, as he hung up his coat and scarf. He thought of all the work Carolyn had been doing to get ready for Christmas and Mark’s visit and the baby coming, not to mention her time helping at the fair. The preparations will be over soon. Then we can all relax and enjoy ourselves.
He was about to go upstairs to join Carolyn in bed when he realized he heard someone downstairs in the kitchen. A soft, muffled sound. Almost imperceptible. But there it was again.
The sound of someone crying.
Ben walked toward the kitchen, his pulse quickening as he began to fear the worst. “Carolyn, is that you?” He saw her at the table, her shadowy outline, her head bent in her hands.
“Honey, what is it?” He put a light on and came toward her. He put a hand on her shoulder. “What is it, dear? Why are you crying? Has something happened to Rachel?” he asked fearfully.
Carolyn looked up at him finally, her blue eyes red-rimmed and swollen. “No, it’s not Rachel. It’s Mark. He’s not coming, after all. He just called a little while ago. Left a message on the machine. I didn’t even hear the phone. I must have been up in his room, hanging those striped curtains. You know the plaid ones didn’t look right. . . .” She paused, starting to cry again.
Ben didn’t know what to say. He felt his mouth go dry as chalk. He sat down beside her and pulled her close. She dropped her head on his shoulder as he patted her back. “You can hear the message if you want to,” Carolyn said, between sobs. “I saved it for you.”
“That’s okay. I’ll listen to it later,” Ben told her, feeling a mounting anger. How could Mark be so thoughtless, so callous toward them? Especially toward Carolyn. Didn’t he know what this meant to her? He’d as good as broken her heart—again. Ben was so upset, he could barely see straight. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive Mark for this—though he instantly asked the Lord’s forgiveness for even thinking such a thing.
He took a deep breath, listening to Carolyn cry and feeling himself sink inside, like a deflated balloon.
“What was Mark’s reason for the change in plans? Did he say?” Ben asked cautiously.
Carolyn lifted her head and shrugged. “No, not really. He said he had to work. They needed him to stay, because somebody else had to go, last minute. Or something like that. I don’t know.” Carolyn shook her head and took a deep breath. Ben could see her struggling to compose herself again. She touched her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. As if she felt dizzy or even faint.
“Are you all right, dear? Would you like a glass of water or something?”
She didn’t answer for a moment, then quickly shook her head, her eyes still shut. “I’m okay, Ben. Please,” she said, a bit sharply.
He knew how she hated for him to fuss over her. Especially when something like this happened. He sat back, waiting, watching her, wishing there were something he could do.
Finally, she opened her eyes. “I just have a bad headache. That’s all.”
“I’ll get you something,” he offered. He began to get up, but she stopped him with her hand on his shoulder.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll get it,” she said, coming to her feet. She walked over to the kitchen cabinet near the sink and took out a bottle of headache capsules, then shook a few into her hand and turned on the water.
“Have you called Rachel yet?” he asked.
“No, not yet.” She sipped a glass of water. “It’s late now. I’m sure she’s sleeping. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“I can do it,” he offered.
“No, I will. I have more time.” She wanted to commiserate with her daughter, who would be just as disappointed, Ben thought. He felt bad about it, too, but he somehow felt left out from their grief.
Oh, Lord, why did this have to happen? Ben asked silently. I thought we were going to have such a good holiday. Poor Carolyn. Please help her, Lord. Don’t let her get pulled under by this.
Carolyn placed the glass in the sink, then turned to look at him. “I know you warned me about going too overboard. About getting so excited about Mark coming home. Maybe we shouldn’t have even sent the tickets—”
“Carolyn, please. I’m not about to say I told you so. I feel as disappointed as you do. As for the tickets, that was my idea. We both agreed to try it,” he reminded her.
“Yes, Ben, I know, but—” She briefly closed her eyes again. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say anymore. Why won’t he come home? I don’t understand it.” Her voice quavered, on the edge of tears again.
Ben placed his hands on each of her shoulders. “I don’t know. We did what we could, Carolyn, but it just wasn’t the right time. There’s nothing more we can do. We have to carry on and try to have a good holiday without him. For Rachel’s sake, at least,” he reminded her.
Carolyn stared at him. Her eyes looked blank, empty, someplace beyond sadness. The vision scared him.
“I’m sorry, dear,” he added, fumbling for the right words. “I really am. I know how bad you must feel. All the work you’ve been doing around here. I just don’t know what to say. I hope someday Mark comes to appreciate you.”
She stepped back. “It’s all right, Ben. I’m okay,” she promised. “Please don’t be mad at him.”
He looked at her a long moment. “I’m trying not to be. I’m trying to understand,” he replied. “It’s very hard.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “It is.” She sighed, folding a dish towel and setting it over a chair. “I’m going up now,” she said. “Are you coming?”
“In a minute. You go ahead. I’ll be right there.”
He heard her slow steps climb up the stairs, then head into the hallway leading to their bedroom. He looked over at the answering machine on the far counter. The green message signal blinked in the dim light. Mark’s message, he thought. He stood there a long time, watching the light, tempted to hit the replay button, yet unable to do it somehow. He imagined his son’s voice, casual yet decided, delivering the bad news. Without a thought to the crushing disappointment he was delivering. An unexpected Christmas gift.
No, he didn’t need to hear it tonight. It would rile him up all over again. He needed a good nig
ht’s sleep—and a long talk with the Lord beforehand—in order to face this cold, unhappy truth tomorrow.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SOMEONE HAD TRIMMED THE FRONT DOOR AND THE PLATE-GLASS windows that read Cape Light Messenger with colored lights. Sara noticed them from a half block down the street.
Inside she found two small, brightly wrapped packages in front of her computer, one from each of her fellow reporters. Jane gave her a CD of a blues singer they’d discovered they both loved, and Ed gave her a desk calendar with humorous malapropisms for each day. Sara had gifts for them, too, and she snuck the boxes onto their desks.
She hadn’t bought anything for Wyatt, though; she hoped he hadn’t gotten her a gift. She had found herself thinking about him a lot since Saturday, especially every time she looked at the print of Emily and Jessica.
He finally came in a few minutes later and breezed by her desk with his usual greeting, which Sara found oddly comforting. Ten minutes later the staff met for the morning briefing, reviewing their assignments. Wyatt brought it to a close, saying, “I think we should all leave on the early side today. It is Christmas Eve, and there’s no edition tomorrow.”
“Great, I’d love to get on the road early. Kenny’s folks are expecting me for dinner,” Jane said. Sara knew she was going to Maine to spend the holiday with her boyfriend’s family.
“My column is set,” Ed told Wyatt. “I can have it on your desk within the hour.”
Wyatt glanced at his watch. “It’s only half past nine, Ed. I didn’t mean quite that early.” Jane and Sara shared a glance and tried not to laugh out loud. Ed made a sour face and adjusted his bow tie.
Sara was working at her desk, trying to follow up on the story about Emily’s battle with the county, when Lindsay came in, wearing a red felt Santa cap. She gave out presents to everyone—small gold boxes of fancy chocolates.
“I love these,” Jane gasped. “I’m going to hide them in my desk and make them last until next year.”
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