Chapter Thirty-three
Christmas lights dangled from masts or stays around the marina, and garlands draped a sloop docked next to the Nancy Grace.
“Daddy, we need to decorate too,” Jilly said.
So Will bought them a wreath to hang from a stanchion. On the table, he set up the little plastic tree laced with white lights. It should have felt festive.
He caught Jilly looking wistfully at the other boats. And dancing on her toes whenever they checked the post office for mail. Maybe today there’d be something.
This had always been his and Nancy’s favorite holiday. When they’d first dated, he’d gone to church with Nancy’s family on Christmas Eve, then with Nancy, then with Jilly and Nancy. Jilly loved the candle lighting. He remembered holding her candle for her and watching her eyes reflect the light. She’d always been such a happy child.
She was obviously trying to be happy now, switching on a smile when she saw him looking.
That she felt the need to pretend with him hurt.
This year, they’d attend Liz and Dan’s little church on the Eastern Shore. And the ache would be worse because the seat on his other side would be empty again.
But he’d blown it with Tadie, so there was no going there.
“Hurry, Daddy, it’s cold,” Jilly said, bringing his attention back to the present. They’d run out to pick up a last-minute gift for Dan’s mother, who was flying in for the holidays. Jilly had chosen a package of sweet-smelling soaps.
They stopped at the post office. Will noticed the postmark and tucked that envelope at the bottom of the stack so she wouldn’t see it. Jilly hurried them back to the boat, where he unlocked the companionway door and slid back the hatch.
It had been three days, and still he hadn’t mentioned Tadie’s call. Did he dare steam open the letter before he gave it to Jilly?
No, that was absurd. He helped her shed her outerwear then hung her jacket with his. “Go turn up the heater, will you, punkin?” he asked before sitting down to sort through the letters.
Jilly stood at his side, watching as he pulled Tadie’s letter to the top. “Here. This one’s for you.”
Her eyes glowed. She grabbed the envelope and tore it open. “It’s from Tadie. I knew it. She says thank you for my letter, and she’s sorry she didn’t write sooner.” Jilly turned breathlessly. “I knew she wasn’t mad.” She read more. “Tadie says she didn’t get your letter in time. And listen to this. ‘I’m sorry we didn’t talk early enough for you to make Christmas plans that included Beaufort—’” Jilly looked up to say, “I can read that now. I can spell it.”
“You certainly can.”
Jilly continued. “She says maybe we can come later. ‘I want to see you whenever you can come,’ she says. I knew it. She even says she misses me.”
Will gazed out the salon porthole. “I’m sure she does.”
“You were wrong, Daddy.”
“I guess I was.”
“We could still fly down and surprise her.”
Will turned up her chin so she could look in his eyes. “I’m sure she has plans and besides, we’ve promised your Aunt Liz we’d drive over.”
“I know. But we were going to do something different this year. Something fun.”
“We’ll have fun with Aunt Liz, and then maybe next year we can branch out and be different.”
With a downcast look, Jilly went back to the settee and studied Tadie’s letter again.
Will closed his eyes. Nancy, what should I do?
If only he could ask. She’d know. She always knew.
The hurt grabbed at him again, tightening his chest. Getting through this Christmas would be especially hard. Last year they’d been in the Bahamas. This year the memories would be right on the surface. Liz would make the same vanilla flan Nancy used to—their mother’s specialty. The ham and turkey would taste the same, and so would the gravy. Why hadn’t either daughter established her own traditions? If they had, maybe this one wouldn’t be so much like all the holidays of his married life, only this time without ... without …
He hurried out to the deck so Jilly wouldn’t hear him lose it. The wind slapped his face, tightening his skin, clouding his breaths. He wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the cold, and there, in the middle of wanting Nancy, he saw Tadie’s stricken face watching him leave. He wasn’t sure which hurt most.
* * * * *
James dragged in the tree and set it up in the living room before lighting a fire in the fireplace. “I’ll go fetch Elvie,” he said, returning with her some twenty minutes later.
Tonight was their traditional decorating party. Elvie sat in one of the large wing chairs, her bad arm propped on a pillow, and directed the production. As they laced garlands on the staircase and mantel between sips of cider or eggnog, they sang carols, and Rita’s rich contralto kept Tadie’s voice in tune.
“It looks as good as ever your mama used to have it,” Elvie said, rubbing her hands and beaming proudly.
James handed her a refill of cider. “Yes ma’am. It sure does.”
When they finished, Tadie plopped at one end of the couch and extended her legs. The tree blossomed with lights, and the ornaments winked their reflection at the room, which smelled of pine and burning logs. “Let’s talk about Christmas Eve,” she said. “I’ll do prime rib and you all can bring what suits you.”
Elvie settled her hands and nodded. “My sweet potatoes in orange juice.”
“Rita—” Tadie began.
“Of course, Rita will help,” Elvie interrupted. “Lands, girl, don’t make me an invalid.”
“Yes ma’am,” Tadie said, even though she hadn’t meant to suggest any such thing. Best move on and talk to Rita later. “Hannah’s bringing oysters and lots of hors d’oeuvres, as well as a Christmas pudding. Isa said her mashed potatoes—red potatoes in their skins with chicken broth and garlic—will knock us out.”
“Yum,” Rita said. “How many are you thinking?”
Tadie started counting. “You three. Martin’s coming too, isn’t he?”
Rita nodded. “He bakes a fantastic apple pie. I bet he’ll want to bring one.”
“Excellent. So, that’s five of us, plus three from Hannah’s house, Isa and Stefan—I can’t wait for you all to meet him. He’s a darling. That’s ten. Considering we easily seat twelve, we’re golden.”
* * * * *
She’d slept well enough. Not great, but she hadn’t had to count sheep. No, instead she’d counted knives and men who’d look good with one sticking out of the chest. And then she’d laughed at herself for being so gruesome.
She picked up the newspaper from the front porch and was sipping coffee and reading the paper when Rita padded into the kitchen. “Morning,” she said as Rita filled her own mug.
“I was wondering,” Rita said as she stirred in sugar and cream. “Martin’s folks are going to be alone this year. Bobby and Beverly are too far away to come.”
“I hope you invited them here.”
Rita sipped, watching her over the mug’s rim. “I didn’t want to say anything without asking you.”
“I’d love to meet them. What fun.”
“What should they bring?”
Tadie thought over the menu. “Whatever they’d like. I’m thinking you and I can add a light salad, but we don’t have any other green vegetables. Find out what they want to do, then we’ll fill in the gaps.”
“Are we cleaning today?”
“And polishing the silver.”
When Elvie said she wanted to help, they hauled the large coffee service up to the apartment so she and James could feel a part of the preparations. Elvie thought of that silver as hers because she’d been polishing it for the past thirty-five years.
By ten-thirty on the morning of the party, they had added two leaves to the table, set it with Caroline Longworth’s linen tablecloth and napkins, placed the silver around, and set crystal glasses at each place. Hannah had brought over an arrangement o
f forced tulip bulbs for the centerpiece. The roast was ready to go in the oven, the Boston lettuce washed and drying. Tadie sent Rita off to help Elvie and went upstairs to rest for a while. Having the house to herself all afternoon seemed like a gift.
She had just brushed out her hair and was smoothing moisturizer on her face when the phone rang. She answered with a lilt, imagining Hannah or Isa with a last-minute question.
“Yes ma’am?”
A little voice spoke her name tentatively. “Tadie?”
“Jilly, hey, baby, how are you?”
“I’m fine. Daddy and I just left to go to my aunt’s house, but he said I could call and wish you a merry Christmas.”
“I’m glad you did. I wish you were here with us.”
“Are you having a party?”
Tadie rubbed the rest of the cream under her eyes. “I am definitely having a party. Lots of guests.”
“Who?”
“Well, Isa’s coming and bringing a new friend.”
“A man?”
“How did you guess?”
“I could tell. The artist man who helped her, right?”
“She told you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And Hannah will be here with her husband and his brother. Elvie and James are coming, and Rita, along with Rita’s fiancé and his parents. I think that’s all.”
“Oh my. That’s a big party. Do you have to cook everything?”
“Not I. I’m too smart for that. Everyone is going to bring the thing they most like to make. I have to do very little, just the salad and roast beef.”
She heard Jilly’s sigh, deep and long. “I love roast beef. I wish I could come help you. I wish we were there instead of in this stupid car.”
“Jilly!” Will’s voice carried easily, though the reprimand wasn’t spoken harshly.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. It’s just …”
“I know. I’m sorry too.”
“I wish your car was pointed this way. Maybe next year.”
Jilly didn’t speak. When Tadie heard a sniffle, her heart melted. “Jilly, honey, are you okay?”
“Tadie, this is Will here. I’m sorry about that. Jilly and I just wanted to wish you a happy day.”
“I wish you one too, Will. I’m sorry you can’t join us. We’re going to eat lots and be very merry.”
“Well, you have fun. We’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye. Hug Jilly for me, please.”
“I will.”
Tadie stared at the phone in her hand for several minutes before replacing it in its holder. A pall had fallen over her celebration. If only Jilly could be here to dance around the table, settling that winsome smile of hers on the guests, making everyone laugh.
She screwed the top on the face cream and grimaced at the mask in the mirror. When had she started looking so old? The cracks near her eyes and the smudges under them reflected more than just her thoughts. She glanced toward the ceiling. “Why does everything have to be so hard?”
* * * * *
Jilly had dried her tears, but she continued to stare out the window into the bleak sky, her head resting against the glass. Will checked the lock again and glanced down at her seat belt.
He had heard the list of guests. Liz would have a crowd too, but they wouldn’t be his and Jilly’s friends. Isa had such a lovely laugh. He wanted to meet the artist she was dating. And Elvie and James, who obviously loved Tadie.
His fingers tapped on the steering wheel, and he ground his teeth. That fellow Alex would be sitting down to eat with Tadie while he and Jilly celebrated hundreds of miles to the north.
Suddenly his reasons for heading east seemed as lame as his excuses.
He pulled the car into a gas station. Jilly ignored him as he got out and moved slightly away, opening his phone and digging out his wallet as he walked.
When he climbed back in, he pointed the car in the opposite direction and took the ramp onto the parkway. Jilly didn’t pay any attention until she noticed the exit he took. She sat straighter in her seat, her fists balled in her lap.
She still didn’t speak when he drove into the parking garage. As he flicked open the trunk, she was right there to get her bag and coat. Her eyes were big and round.
Maybe she was afraid to find out where they were going. Maybe she thought by asking, she’d break whatever magic had captured their car and taken it to the airport. He offered his free hand.
At the US Airways ticket counter, they walked right up to the first-class agent. Will handed over his license. This had better be the right move, because it was costing him a fortune.
Jilly’s eyes were still big when they passed through security and headed almost immediately to boarding. If both flights kept to schedule, he and Jilly might make Beaufort in time for dinner. Of course, he didn’t have a clue what time Tadie planned to sit down to eat. Maybe they were the early-evening types who had the kitchen cleaned by six and then sat around opening gifts or watching whatever came on television. Well, if that were the case, maybe there’d be a few leftovers for two starving waifs.
Jilly picked up his hand again as soon as they found their seats. She still hadn’t asked him anything, which he found both odd and comforting. Maybe she trusted him again.
Liz had been wonderful. All she’d said was, “About time. Go catch that plane and call me when you get back. And tell Jilly I’ll keep her gifts safe.”
“I don’t know what she’s going to think when she finds out she won’t even have the ones I shipped to your house,” he’d said. But Jilly would probably be too excited to care. Besides, they could shop for others on Monday.
There was always that plant in Atlanta—the one whose system he’d designed last summer. If they called back and said they needed more help, well, he’d be that much closer to Atlanta in Beaufort than on the Eastern Shore of Maryland.
Chapter Thirty-four
Tadie couldn’t rest. Her guests would start to arrive in—she looked at her watch—a little under five hours. What was she supposed to do with herself until then?
She went to the closet, pulled out a coat, and headed out to the sidewalk. The cold bit her cheeks. That was good. She’d have some color in them.
Twice down to the west end of Front Street, around the block and back, and she still had four hours to go. An hour before she had to put the roast in. She retreated to the living room, laid another log on the fireplace, and plopped down on the couch, picking up the new Cruising World magazine she hadn’t seen yet. After adjusting a pillow at her back, she flipped through the pages until she came to an article on watermakers. Everyone should know something about watermakers.
She scanned a paragraph. Nothing. She turned the page. The latest electronic aids to navigation weren’t needed on Luna. She tossed the magazine to the floor.
Why did she subscribe to all these glossy bits of useless information? She’d never get to any of the cruising places or use any of the gadgets displayed on their pages.
A shower. She should be clean for tonight. The house was.
She trooped upstairs, turned on the hot water, and took a new razor in with her. By the time she’d shaved her legs, pushed back the cuticles on her toenails—my, how they grew—and washed her hair, the water had begun to cool. She dried and slathered cream all over her body.
Pointing the blow dryer at her head, she fluffed her curls without paying a whole lot of attention to how they fell. Next, she added a little something to her eyes and a dab of blush to her cheeks—because the color from her walk had melted to nothing. She dressed as slowly as possible in her new white wool dress, which made her look washed out in spite of the brushed-on pink. Digging around in her drawer, she pulled out a silk scarf, all greens and blues. It took four tries before she was satisfied with the way it hung on her shoulders, fastened with a mother-of-pearl pin.
It was time to get the roast in. She ran her hand along the banister on her way downstairs, remembering Jilly’s delight in it, her small hands caress
ing the highly polished wood.
O … kay. On to other things.
She donned an apron, turned on the oven, and, while it was heating, straightened the silverware and wiped smudges off the glasses as she circled the table. When the buzzer sounded, she maneuvered the big roast into the oven before heading to the living room. She poked at the fire, waited for it to rouse itself, clicked on the stereo, and did a surface check throughout the downstairs—just in case she’d missed a speck of dust.
“Get hold of yourself,” she whispered, settling back onto her daddy’s big wing chair and checking her watch. Still over two hours to go. She tried closing her eyes. Eb wandered in and leapt onto her lap. She pulled him close to her chest and bent to lay her cheek against his soft fur. “It’s Christmas Eve. Did you know that?” He nudged her chin. “It’s supposed to be one of the happiest times of the year.”
Her voice changed to a whisper as she said, “It’s supposed to be.”
Finally, it seemed late enough to set out the nuts and cheese. She wished her stomach would unknot. All she had to do was smile and welcome everyone when they arrived, make light conversation through the evening, none of which should cause all this turmoil. They were friends, coming to spend the evening. It would be fun.
When the doorbell rang, she noted it was only ten to five. Martin’s parents. They were the only ones who wouldn’t just walk in the back door.
She slipped on a smile, took a deep breath, and pulled open the door. Small arms flew around her waist, and a red head crushed against her. “We came.”
Tadie stood momentarily frozen as she stared at Will’s apologetic face. Then she burst into tears and bent to embrace the child. “Jilly, sweetheart. You did come.”
Jilly’s arms moved to her neck. Tadie could feel Jilly nodding against her shoulder.
“I’m so happy to see you,” she whispered to the child. Suddenly embarrassed, she straightened and swiped at her eyes, sniffling until she could get to a tissue. “I can’t believe you’re here. And look at you, all dressed up and beautiful. How did you do it?”
Jilly seemed to understand exactly what she was asking. “My daddy turned the car around, and we got on a plane. Isn’t he wonderful?”
Becalmed: When a Southern woman with a broken heart finds herself falling for a widower with a broken boat, it's anything but smooth sailing. Page 28