“Where’s Aunt Ella?” Cara asked as she poured Brinley black coffee.
“Still sleeping upstairs.”
“Your parents left you to babysit her?”
“I don’t mind.” Brinley breathed in the aroma of coffee before she poured enough cream into it. “It’s only for a week. Mom and Dad will be home next Tuesday, in time for our annual Christmas Eve dinner.”
Sometimes Brinley wished they would eat at home like they used to do when Grandpa Brooks had been alive, but since he passed away, the Brooks family Christmas Eve dinner had been at The Cloister. Only minutes from here and everything ready to go by the time they got there. It was easier on Cara, for one thing, because she didn’t have to stay up all night cleaning up the kitchen and then rush home for her own family Christmas.
“And besides, the security people will be here in case we need to round up Aunt Ella.”
“You’re always helping others, Brin,” Cara said. “What are you doing for yourself?”
I’m enjoying Ivan’s company. “Taking it easy this Christmas.”
“My daughter is so disappointed she doesn’t get to work on your costume for the dinner tonight.” Cara started cleaning up the pancake pan and ladles in the sink.
“Well, that’s because she’s such a good seamstress. I’m glad that she made the gown loose enough for me to fit in even a year later. The stretchable stomacher was a brilliant idea.”
“I’ll tell her.” Cara loaded the dishwasher.
Brinley remembered Ivan in Yun’s kitchen doing dishes by hand.
“Are you going alone tonight?”
“Well, Aunt Ella is going to spend the evening at my friend’s house, so we’re going to go from there.”
“We?”
“Ivan and I.”
“Ivan? I’ve never heard of him before.”
“Ivan is Zoe’s brother-in-law.”
“Oh.”
“He’s special?”
Yes. Very special. “We started—I don’t know what we started, Cara. We went out to eat, we spent time together. Not sure where it’s going.”
“But you like him.”
Maybe more than like. “I’m going back to Atlanta in three weeks. It’s not going to last.”
Cara wiped the stove with a damp cloth. “But you like him.”
“Yes. Like I said, it might not last.” Like all the other boyfriends. They came and went like clockwork.
“Maybe this time it will.” Cara picked up Brinley’s empty plate. “For your sake, I hope so. That good-for-nothing Phinn! I hope he never comes back. You find yourself a nice man who can love you and take good care of you.”
Take care of me? Ivan could barely take care of Yun and himself.
“I hope you find a good man, dear Brinley.”
“I hope so too, Cara.” Brinley wanted to say more, but her iPhone rang. She retrieved it from her sweatpants pocket. “It’s Dad. I have to take this.”
* * *
“Don’t worry about me, Dad. I’m going to be fine.”
No, I’m not.
Brinley couldn’t believe what she had heard, but there was nothing she could do about it. Mom and Dad had made up their minds, and that was the way it went. They had kept busy and that prevented Mom from meddling in her life. Yet the irony was that they were too busy now to get the family together for Christmas.
This would be the first Christmas in Brinley’s entire life where everyone was everywhere else but Sea Island.
Even in years past when her brother, Dillon, had worked up to Christmas Eve, he’d flown in the next morning to have Christmas brunch with the family and to open presents. Though he’d fly back to Atlanta that very evening, at least he had not missed out. They were together. They laughed and had their photos taken. Brinley had kept photo albums of every Christmas since she was a little girl.
Now Dad was telling her something else.
“Are you sure, Brinley Brin?” Dad’s voice had always been calm.
She could hear voices in the background on Dad’s end of the phone. Some sort of announcements in French over the public address system. A Christmas carol in French began playing. They were probably out shopping somewhere, but Dad didn’t say and Brinley didn’t ask.
Seriously, she didn’t care anymore. What happened to the idea of family and holidays and Christmas meals together?
She wanted to weep but it would be juvenile.
Those family Christmases. They are gone.
Gone!
“How about this, Brin? I’ll send the BBJ to pick you and Aunt Ella up, and you can join us here for Christmas?”
“That sounds like an option, Dad. But you know how Aunt Ella feels about flying. She’s going to freak out for eight or nine hours.”
“We’ll have her sedated.”
“You mean like a pet?”
“Well, it’s only for eight hours.”
“Or nine.” Brinley paced the sunroom. Outside, the sky was still clear, but in the distance she could see some dark clouds. “Let me ask Aunt Ella what she wants to do. It’s not a problem for me to fly out to Paris for Christmas Day, but I’m not sure if Aunt Ella is up to it. We can’t leave her behind. She has no one, Dad.”
Oh. This is all so last minute.
“So when are you planning on coming home?” Brinley asked.
“After New Year’s Day.”
“Two and a half weeks from now?”
“You’ll have the whole house to yourself, Brin.”
“An empty house, Dad.”
“Nice and quiet, then. You can read, nap, take it easy. Just don’t throw any parties in the big house.”
“You know how I feel about parties, Dad.”
“I know. I’m sorry about the change of plans. I feel that your mom and I need to spend more time together.”
“I totally understand, Dad.” In her heart, Brinley wished that Mom would give too. She had always been a taker. Do it her way or not at all.
Brinley resolved that if and when she married that she and her husband would be more balanced in their approach to their lives together. Not one of those “give and take” maxims but more like each would give all to the other and be generous and flexible and—
A tear fell.
“Dad, go enjoy your time with Mom. Life is short, you know.”
Sniff. Boy, this sunroom is dusty!
“Yeah, since my stroke I’ve been thinking of that.”
“Tell you what, Dad. Aunt Ella’s going home the day after Christmas. How about I catch a flight out to see you and Mom for New Year’s?”
“I’d like that, Brin.”
“So meanwhile, it’ll be only Dill, Aunt Ella, and me for Christmas here.”
“I’m glad you’re not alone. And I love you, Brin.”
“Love you too, Dad.” Brinley heard women’s voices and they sounded like Mom and Zoe talking at the same time.
“Your mom’s done shopping, so we’re going to go back to the chateau now,” Dad said. “Mom said she bought you something. I’ll tell her to wrap it up and she can give it to you when you get here.”
“Sounds good, Dad. I’ll ask Dill if he wants to fly out with me to Paris.”
“He might not. Tell him I’m upset he’s working too hard.”
Brinley found that ironic. Dad was the one who had decided to leave the entire company in Dillon’s hands. Brinley was only working in the sales department. Sadly, the more sales she brought in for Brooks Investments, the harder Dillon had to work. She wondered now whether she should even broach the subject of her departure from the company. How was that going to affect Dillon?
She decided to talk to him when he came for Christmas.
I hope he doesn’t cancel it too.
Brinley and Dad said their goodbyes and the usual “I love you” and then she swiped her iPhone to look at her calendar.
Eleven days more with Aunt Ella.
It wasn’t that she minded being with Aunt Ella, but Brinley wasn’t cu
t out to be a full-time caregiver. The nurse who came to administer the daily meds only came for half an hour a day. It was ridiculous how expensive she was.
So this was how it could be if Brinley ever ended up alone in her life. She wondered how Aunt Ella felt being elderly and dependent on other people’s mercy and time and, possibly, decisions that affected her well-being and care.
She heard the pattering of heavy clogs on the slate floor. The clop-clops sounded louder.
“I’m not going home after Christmas.”
Aunt Ella.
Brinley tried to remain calm. “Have you been listening the entire time?”
Aunt Ella shuffled forward. “Most of it.”
“Where were you? Outside the door?”
“Behind the wall. It’s sturdy so I could lean on it.”
“Okay. But you heard my voice, and not Dad’s. So you didn’t hear the entire conversation, not truly.” Brinley pocketed her iPhone. “Didn’t Grandpa Brooks say it’s not good to eavesdrop?”
“Willard is dead and he doesn’t care.”
Brinley laughed.
“Bottomline. I’m not going home to West Palm.”
“I heard you.”
“I want you to take me to see the director of Brunswick Senior Living Community.”
“Isn’t that where Hiram lives?”
Aunt Ella’s face changed. “He’s the one who told me about it. They have assisted-living facilities. I want to move there.”
“What about your house in Florida?”
“All my friends in West Palm are either dead or dying. I’m alone there.”
Oh.
“Would you take me? Hiram says they have fully furnished apartments. Three meals a day, snacks and games all day long. Friends everywhere.”
Aunt Ella might have had some memory lapses the week before, but she seemed fine now once her medications were regulated. As far as Brinley knew, Aunt Ella was fit enough to make her own decisions.
If she didn’t want to go home to West Palm, then who was to stop her? After all, Brinley herself wanted to stay on St. Simon’s Island. Something about the place. Something about the people.
Something about someone.
“Hiram said the director is in all week. Would you call them and make me an appointment for today?”
“Today? We’re kind of busy today, remember?”
“Busy? I like busy. What are we doing again?” Aunt Ella perked up and moved her elbows in a back and forth motion. “I’m ready to go.”
“Well, Yun invited us over to tea at two.”
“Yes! I’m staying through dinner.”
Brinley nodded. Yun had insisted that she and Aunt Ella could spend the evening together while Brinley went to the Oglethorpe Charity Dinner tonight.
An idea struck her. She would take the meals that Cara brought over this morning. Then Yun and Aunt Ella didn’t have to worry about foraging for food.
She glanced at her watch. “Have you had breakfast, Aunt Ella?”
“Cara fed me.”
“Pancakes?”
“And ice cream.”
“She didn’t feed you ice cream for breakfast.”
“Well, I helped myself.” Aunt Ella turned to leave. “I’m going to get ready now for tea.”
“That’s not until two, Aunt Ella. There’s lunch before that.”
“Are you taking me out to lunch?”
“Cara brought us some roast beef. I’ll make you a sandwich.”
“Thank you. You’re so good to me, Brin. Willard would be so proud of how you turned out.”
Brinley couldn’t speak.
If only Grandpa Brooks were here.
All she had left now were memories of what once was.
The Brooks Christmas traditions were slowly falling apart. They might have already fallen apart with her parents in Paris and Dillon in Atlanta. Brinley felt alone, and yet, here with Aunt Ella, she felt obligated to keep up the holiday spirit and retain whatever remnants of Christmas they had. Even if it were just the two of them left in town, they were still Brooks. And they could have their Brooks family Christmas.
So there.
“Is Cara still here?” Brinley locked step with Aunt Ella.
“She left. I sent her away. I told her to go home to her family.”
Family.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dad called again right in the middle of tea time at Yun’s house. Brinley threw on her jacket and went outside to the dilapidated porch to get some privacy. It was a bit chilly in mid-December. Must be the cooler Atlantic winds sweeping onshore and through those live oak trees.
Inside the house, Aunt Ella was getting louder by the minute. Brinley wondered if Aunt Ella’s hearing was going but if she kept up the racket, her own hearing would go too. She closed the front door gently.
The once-white plastic chairs looked grimier than last week when she had first seen them. She didn’t want to sit on either one. She went up to the edge of the porch where the steps faced the covered car port. She sat down on the pine boards, rotted in some places. She wondered if these had ever been pressure-treated.
“Dad, no need to apologize.”
“We shouldn’t have left you behind,” Dad said. “Maybe you can go home to Atlanta.”
“If I’m in Atlanta, I’m going to think about work. Here, I’m getting some peace and quiet.”
“I feel bad.”
“Don’t. I’ve been working all year long. I need to stand still for a moment and not run around all the time. This is good for me.”
“Don’t get all philosophical on me, Brin.”
“You’re funny, Dad.”
“We shouldn’t have come to Paris. It was so spontaneous—”
“Dad, stop. I’m fine and you need to take my word for it. Where are you?”
“At the Palais Garnier.”
“Only your favorite opera house in all the world.” Brinley could hear faint applause on the phone. Those nearby doors leading to the theater must be opening and closing. She had been there before once. Opera wasn’t Brinley’s thing, but Mom and Dad had season tickets for operas up and down Europe, especially in Vienna. Tonight though, it was in Paris where they had spent their honeymoon some forty years ago.
“Dad, is the performance starting? I heard people clapping.”
“Just about. I want to make sure you’re all right.”
“Don’t worry about me, Dad.”
“Are you sure?”
“A zillion times sure. Go enjoy the opera.”
“In a minute.”
“Go now, Dad. I’m sure the tickets are expensive.”
“You know I don’t care about that. But I can’t get back the time we’re losing with you.”
He’s right. But nothing can be done now.
“Right now, Aunt Ella and I are having tea with Yun McMillan,” Brinley offered.
“Yun? Quincy’s grandmother?”
“Yes. We’re at her house. Yun brews some good tea.”
That seemed to allay Dad’s stress over the matter. She hadn’t known Dad to be such a worrier, but he’d been more so after the stroke. And now, he’d called her from the opera house. He’d never done that before.
“I’ll let you go before your tea gets cold. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Dad relented. “Don’t forget to check your email. My agent sent yours a counteroffer.”
Ah, yes. The oceanfront house she wanted. “I know you’re a fair businessman, Dad.”
“I wish I could be a fair dad.”
“Stop worrying. You’re missing your opera.”
“All right. I’ll go now. I love you, Brinley Brin.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
Brinley hung up and stared at her iPhone.
Something caught her attention past her iPhone and lap and where her shoes rested on the steps. Rotting wood. She stepped off the porch and peered.
Are those…?
She found a twig nearby and started poking at the shred
ded wood. More wood crumbled off. As soon as the first layers fell away, thousands of bloated and blind little white-and-cream colored creatures greeted her with frenzied scurrying, possibly angry that she’d disturbed their winter hideout.
Termites!
Eating up Yun’s house.
She pried and found that the porch was almost missing part of its foundation.
Jump on top of this corner and this end would cave in. Yikes.
She was shaking her head when she felt warm breath on her neck.
Uh-oh.
“What are you doing?”
His voice was soothing and calm and quiet, but Brinley was sure his face wouldn’t register the same. Slowly, she turned around. Sure enough. Standing there on the cracked concrete driveway leaning over her, Ivan wasn’t too happy to catch her digging into his collapsing porch.
“You have a termite infestation.” Brinley tried to remain calm.
“And you have to do something about it?”
“Someone has to.”
“And it’s your business?”
“No, it’s not—”
“Exactly.” Ivan extended his hand to help Brinley get to her feet.
“But—but this entire porch—”
“I’ll get something from Home Depot and it’ll take care of it.”
“You have no idea—”
“And you do?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. My dad and I reno—”
“Not this house, you don’t.”
“What if Yun steps here and falls over?”
“She’s not going to.”
“How would you know that? Prevention is—”
“None of your business.”
“Stop cutting me off!” What in the world is wrong with you, Ivan? “Trying to help, you know.”
“Don’t.”
Brinley tried counting to ten but didn’t get past two and a half. “You’re going to lose your porch.”
“So let me lose it.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“So are you,” Ivan snapped.
“Are we having a fight?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“How can we have a fight? We hardly know each other.”
“It feels like we’ve known each other a while.” Ivan reached for her shoulder.
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