“I remember. I don’t know why people consider cemeteries morbid places, though a lot of the modern ones do look so sadly cold.”
“You’re a romantic, Nell, as am I. It’s one of the reasons we’ve always got on so well.”
Yes, Nell thought. I am a romantic. “How was your morning?” she asked when a waiter had taken their order for coffee and a cherry-filled pastry Eric insisted they share.
“Interesting,” he said. “I wrote for about an hour and then I hit a snag, so I went to the beach for a long walk. It was so unbelievably beautiful, and it was just the sand, the ocean, the occasional seagull, and me. And some snow. By the time I got back to the hotel I’d gotten myself out of the hole I’d inadvertently dug. That sort of thing never happens when I’m wandering the streets of Manhattan.”
“The healing power of nature?” Nell suggested.
Eric nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
The waiter appeared with their order, and as Eric sliced the pastry in half he asked Nell how her morning had passed.
“Interesting as well,” Nell told him. “Felicity took me completely by surprise when she told me she’d canceled the trip to Switzerland with her father next Christmas. She said she realized just how much she enjoys being home for the holidays.”
“Why do you look doubtful?” Eric asked.
“Do I? It’s just that I’d like to believe her, but I’m afraid she’s giving up what might be an exciting opportunity to spare my feelings.”
“Teenagers get a bad rap, don’t they?” Eric said. “Not all are totally self-focused. Plenty of them are familiar with making a willing sacrifice. Still, do you think Felicity would lie to you about her motives?”
“Not really,” Nell admitted, “but lately there are times when I feel my daughters are strangers to me. I realize I don’t know what they’re thinking, and I’m surprised by their decisions.”
“Every day they’re becoming more autonomous beings.”
“I know, and that’s the point of raising children, and I would never dissuade either of them from following their dreams.” Nell smiled. “But I’m not above trying to get their attention and their gratitude with sugar and crafts. I’m even knitting them Christmas stockings—and I’m a lousy knitter.”
“What you’re experiencing is totally natural,” Eric said. “Which doesn’t make it any easier, but at least you know you’re not losing your mind.”
“But I am losing the role that’s been my identity for the past twenty-one years.”
“Surely that role won’t be gone entirely,” Eric argued. “Surely a parent is never done being a parent. Sorry. I don’t mean to imply that what you’re feeling isn’t important. And what do I know about the emotional trauma parents experience when a child leaves home, other than what I’ve learned while researching.”
“You don’t need to research to understand universal feelings like love and loss. But I suppose that reading about other people’s experiences does give you food for thought.”
“Exactly. So, would it be all right if I met Molly and Felicity?” Eric asked. And then he smiled. “Or is this really bad timing on my part?”
“I haven’t told them about you,” Nell blurted.
“Why not? Do I embarrass you? I have learned how to comb my hair.” Eric ran his hand through the loose wild curls. “Sort of.”
“Of course not,” Nell said hurriedly. “It’s just . . .” It was just, Nell thought, that this renewed friendship with Eric was not irrelevant, no matter how casually she had implied just that when talking to Jill. It was anything but irrelevant; it was by far the most important thing that had happened to her aside from the birth of her children. And bringing together the most important people of her life . . . Well, the thought was challenging. So much could go so terribly wrong. So much could go so very right. “Why do you want to meet them?” she asked finally.
Eric reached across the table for her hand. “Simple. I knew the old Nell, and now I’m getting to know this Nell. And this Nell has spent the last twenty-one years being a mother, and that makes her in some ways an entirely new person to me.”
Getting to know this Nell . . . “I promise to talk to the girls,” Nell said promptly. “I’ll tell them we’re old friends and that you’d like to meet them. They’re fans of your work, you know.”
Eric grinned. “As long as they don’t ask me where I get my ideas. I never know how to answer that question.”
“Okay. I’ll tell them not to ask. And by the way, where do you get your ideas?”
“From the back of cereal boxes,” Eric said. “That’s my answer and I’m sticking to it. Now, eat your pastry.”
Chapter 29
“Thanks for doing the shoveling, Fliss.” Felicity removed another layer of clothing and sank into a chair at the kitchen table. “No worries, Mom. It’s good exercise. Besides, we’ve only gotten a few inches so far.”
“There’s a lot more predicted,” Molly pointed out. “Remember that time a few years back when we were snowed in for three days?”
“Yeah,” Felicity said. “Mr. Roberts from the hardware store got lost in that storm. By the time they found him he had frostbite. I heard he lost all ten of his toes.”
“Only two toes, Fliss,” Molly corrected. “His wife got carried away the more she told the tale. Still, two toes is two toes too many. The cold is dangerous.”
Nell turned off the gas under the front left burner and carefully poured boiling water over the teabag in her favorite cup. Now might be a good time to tell the girls about her friendship with Eric. But still she hesitated. To share with her children the fact of her long-ago romance as well as the fact of Eric’s being back in her life even temporarily was bound to have a big effect, good or bad. She would wait just a little longer.
“We might want to get to the concert early tonight,” she said. “I read in the paper there’s an important organist scheduled to play a prelude to the program. It might be difficult to get good seats.”
Molly, who was at the table sewing a button on a blouse, shook her head. “Sorry, Mom. I can’t. I totally forgot that Andrea’s party is tonight.”
“Will Mick be there?” Felicity asked.
“No. Andrea didn’t invite him, given what happened between us.” Molly sighed. “I’m so not in the mood for a party, but I promised Andrea I’d be there, and she really helped me out when I was having trouble with a course last spring, so I’m kind of obliged.”
“Felicity?” Nell asked. “You’re still coming with me, right?”
Felicity scrunched up her face. “Sorry, Mom. I just found out this afternoon there’s a one-time screening of The Ghost and Mrs. Muir at the old meetinghouse in South Berwick. Ever since I saw it on television when I was eleven I’ve wanted to see it on a big screen. It’s so romantic.”
“All right then,” Nell said with a smile that hid her disappointment. “You two have a good time and drive carefully.”
“We always do, Mom,” Molly assured her. “I’d better change. I promised Andrea I’d help her set up for tonight.”
“And I need to take a shower. I sweat right through my fleece doing the shoveling. Ugh.”
Once she was alone Nell realized with a bit of a shock that she couldn’t recall the last time she had attended an event on her own, not even a movie at the little Leavitt Theatre in Ogunquit, or a lecture at the Portland Museum of Art, or a workshop at the Strawberry Lane Community Arts Education Center. For a moment she considered asking Jill to go to the concert with her (Eric was booked to host an online forum arranged by his publisher), but then she thought about those websites she had scoured and she decided not to. Instead, she would follow the advice of the experts and embrace independence. She would go to the concert on her own, and she would enjoy the beautiful music and the presence of her friendly neighbors. The community of Yorktide would make a fine companion.
* * *
Nell stood across from the Methodist church on an otherwise empty
stretch of road. She had dressed with care, going so far as to wear her best dress, a black wool A-line that came to just below her knees, black knee-high boots (with corrugated rubber soles, of course), and the good camel coat she had bought in the early days of her marriage. She had even put on the pair of pearl earrings Joel had given her one anniversary and a white gold necklace that complemented the pearls. Being on one’s own was a good thing, she had told herself while dressing. It was normal. It was healthy.
But as Nell watched families and couples and groups of friends stream through the front doors of the church, her spirits began to falter. For the full ten minutes she had been standing there she had seen no one enter the church on his or her own. Was this to be her future, she wondered, to be the odd one out, solitary, looking on as other people lived their lives in the company of loved ones?
I can’t do this, she thought. I know I’m being silly and weak, but I just can’t. Nell turned and hurried down the darkened road to where she had parked her car. Twenty minutes later she was home and in her nightgown and robe, the earrings and necklace once again safely stowed in her jewelry box and the dress zipped into its protective garment bag.
Nell left her bedroom and settled in the book nook to wait for the girls to return home. Only that morning she had determined to take control of her future and look at what had happened by evening. Nell took a deep breath. Resiliency and optimism, she thought. One step at a time. Be gentle with yourself. No journey was ever completed without the occasional detour and misstep. Nell reached for the book of poems by Wallace Stevens. Reading was what was required.
* * *
“How was the concert?” Molly asked.
It was just after eleven o’clock, and Nell and her daughters were gathered in the kitchen. Nell was at the stove, stirring a pot of chocolate. Three large mugs waited to be filled.
“Wonderful,” Nell said brightly, pouring the chocolate into the mugs and wondering when she had become such a liar. It was just that she didn’t want her daughters to feel sorry for her. Poor Mom. Too timid (if that was the word) to attend a community concert on her own. “How was the party?” she asked, turning to Molly.
“Lame,” Molly said. “Half the people Andrea invited didn’t show up, so it was just five of us sitting around with all this food pretending to be having a good time when Andrea was really annoyed and Jim and Gary had clearly had a fight before coming over, because they didn’t say one word to each other the entire night and Carl kept checking his phone for updates on some hockey game.” Molly managed a smile. “And then there was me, missing Mick and feeling miserable. Not a fun time.”
“Probably more fun than my night,” Felicity said. “The projector broke down twice and the meetinghouse was freezing. I was shivering so hard I could hardly hear the dialogue. I probably should have gone to the concert with you after all, Mom.”
Nell smiled. “There’s always next year.”
Molly drained the last of the hot chocolate in her mug. “I’m exhausted,” she announced. “I feel I could sleep right through the holidays and into next year.”
“It’s the sadness and the stress,” Felicity said.
Molly smiled ruefully. “I’m aware. Good night, Mom. Fliss.”
A moment later, Felicity followed her sister from the kitchen after giving her mother a kiss on the cheek.
Nell put the empty mugs into the dishwasher. There’s always next year. But would there be? Sure, Felicity had said she wasn’t going abroad with her father, but as Jill had pointed out, she might change her mind again. As for Molly, who knew where she would be next December. I know where I’ll be, Nell thought. I’ll be right here, and Eric, too, will be gone.
And in that case, Nell thought resolutely, I had better tell my daughters about him before the opportunity to do so is past. What really could be so damaging about introducing Eric to Molly and Felicity? He was her kind and good-hearted friend. He was no threat to her family. She would break her long silence in the morning.
Chapter 30
“Mom? Can you give me the key to our safe deposit box? Pam’s Rolex came yesterday, and I want to put it somewhere it won’t get damaged.”
“You’re not going to wear it?” Molly asked.
Felicity shrugged. “Nah. It’s a bit much for Yorktide. I’ll save it for special occasions or something.”
“Sure. I’ll get the key after breakfast.” Nell joined her daughters at the kitchen table and pulled her robe more tightly across her chest. The house was not immune to sneaky drafts of icy air when the temperature dropped below the freezing point, which it had during the early hours of the morning. “So,” she said in a feigned casual tone as she poured a cup of coffee. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you two.”
Felicity reached for a piece of toast. “Did we win the lottery?” she asked.
“Nothing so dramatic. You know the writer Eric Manville?”
“Yeah,” Felicity said. “He’s really good.”
Molly nodded. “He has really soulful eyes. Not that that has anything to do with his books. Just saying.”
“Well, I knew him back in college,” Nell explained. “Recently we’ve been in touch. In fact, he’s staying in Ogunquit at the moment and we’ve gotten together a few times.”
Molly’s eyes widened, and she put her coffee cup on the table with a bit of a thud. “You know him? I love his books! I was planning to go to the reading at the Bookworm but Maisie Phillips really needed a babysitter at the last minute and I always seem to need the money, so I took the job.”
“I can’t believe you actually know Eric Manville!” Felicity cried. “And Then We Drifted is one of my favorite books ever. So, were you guys good friends or what?”
“Actually,” Nell said, “we went out for almost two years. We were going to get married.”
Molly shook her head. “Mom, this is huge. Why didn’t you ever tell us?”
“It was a long time ago,” Nell explained. “And I didn’t feel comfortable talking about the serious boyfriend I had before your father and I started to date. I felt it would be a betrayal of the marriage.”
“I’m sure Dad had plenty of girlfriends before you, Mom,” Molly said. “I’ve heard him mention at least three. So, wait, does he know you guys were a couple?”
“No. Your father was always aware that Eric and I had been friends, but I didn’t see the need to tell him we had been romantically involved.”
“So what happened with Eric?” Felicity asked. “Did he break your heart?”
“No.” Nell smiled ruefully. “I broke his heart, and my own for that matter, though I wasn’t aware of it until later.”
“What do you mean?” Molly asked, leaning forward in interest.
“What I mean,” Nell said, “is that Grandma and Grandpa weren’t at all happy about my relationship with Eric. They put a lot of pressure on me to break it off. They said Eric didn’t show promise, by which they meant he hadn’t decided on a career path. They said your father was a safer choice of husband. And I finally did what they wanted and broke up with Eric, started dating your father, and then married him. I wasn’t very brave back then. I didn’t have the courage to follow my heart.”
Molly sat back in her chair. “Oh, Mom,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Felicity snapped her fingers. “Hey, wait a minute. So that’s where you’ve been sneaking off to! You weren’t out buying tinsel or powdered sugar those times when I thought you’d be home. You were hanging out with your old boyfriend!”
“I have not been sneaking off anywhere,” Nell protested a bit guiltily. “I just . . . I just didn’t want to advertise to the world that I was spending time with Eric.”
“We’re not the world, Mom,” Molly pointed out. “We’re your daughters. And we could easily have found out through the rumor mill. I’m surprised we didn’t.”
“I’m surprised, too,” Nell admitted. “I’m glad I got to tell you myself.”
Felicit
y reached for another piece of toast and the jar of blackberry preserves. “Hey,” she said. “Remember when you first told us you used to write poetry and that reading it now was bringing back bittersweet memories. Was it Eric you were thinking of? Was it writing that brought you guys together in the first place?”
“Yes, it was Eric I was thinking of, and no, Eric didn’t start to write seriously until years later, but he was always incredibly supportive of my efforts. In a way he was my inspiration.” Nell took a deep breath before going on. “The reason I’m telling you all this now,” she said, “is that Eric would like to meet you. He knows you’re the most important people in my life.”
Neither girl answered immediately. Nell waited nervously as Molly looked to Felicity and then, after a moment, as Felicity nodded to her sister.
“You said he’s staying in Ogunquit,” Molly said. “Is he by himself? Didn’t I read somewhere that he was married to an important journalist?”
“He was married, but not any longer,” Nell told them. “And yes, he’s on his own.”
“Then why don’t you invite Eric to spend Christmas Day with us,” Felicity suggested.
“I couldn’t do that!” Nell blurted.
“Why not?” Molly asked. “No one should be alone on Christmas.”
“Are you sure?” Nell asked, looking from one of her daughters to the other and back again. “Really sure?”
Molly reached for her mother’s hand. “Mom,” she said, “we’re not totally dumb. Fliss and I know how important this Christmas is to you, even if we haven’t always been acting very sympathetically.”
“Hey! What did I do?” Felicity paused. “Oh, wait. I did go on about the Switzerland thing. Sorry.”
“We want you to be happy,” Molly continued, “and if having Eric Manville here will make you happy, then go for it. Plus I can get an autograph. Do you think he’d mind?”
Nell laughed and squeezed Molly’s hand. “Not at all.” She felt so very proud of her children at that moment, proud and grateful and happy. She had sorely underestimated her daughters’ generosity toward her. Yes, one day both girls would be gone, but Nell would always have memories of moments like this.
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