by Jenny Hale
“Look!” she said, opening the box. “Does this song mean anything to you?” She opened it and Louis Armstrong’s “Dream a Little Dream” played on the music box.
David’s expression was unreadable for a moment, and then realization slid across his face. “That’s perfect,” he said, taking it gently from her hands. “My mother used to play that song all the time.”
“It’s Nan’s favorite song too.”
“Really?”
“Yes. When she used to play it, she’d take me by the hands, swing me around, and we’d dance to it. I wonder if she did that with your mom?”
“It’s possible.” He shut the box. “You’ve just found mom’s present!” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, his spicy scent making her dizzy for a second.
“I’ll help you wrap it,” she said, taking in a breath to get her head straight.
He took her hand and they went up to the register to pay for June’s present.
Afterwards, while Leah warmed up the truck, David ran to the gift shop a few stores down to find some wrapping paper and ribbon. When he got in to the truck, he tossed the bag between them on the seat, and she noticed the roll of pretty green paper protruding from the top. “That’s a nice choice,” she said. David admitted he’d asked the sales lady to pick something out for him.
As she pulled away from the curb, he turned to her. “I hope it’s okay, but I asked my mom to come to Evergreen Hill. I organized everything a long time ago.”
Leah nodded, pulling up to the stoplight. “Of course.” She almost added “it’s your house now” but caught herself. “When’s she coming?”
“The day after tomorrow. I should’ve told you sooner.”
Leah glanced over. She could see the worry on his face and knew it was hard for him just to talk about her. “It’s no problem, David. It sounds like she needs this.” The light turned green and they headed home.
* * *
“Would you put your finger on this ribbon to hold it in place while I tie the bow?” Leah asked David as she put the finishing touches on June’s present. She was cross-legged on the sitting room floor, the heat from the fire warming her. She moved a pile of balled-up wrapping paper scraps with her free hand to give David some space.
He complied, kneeling down beside her, one hand on the coffee table, the other on the present. She tied the bow, nodding when he could remove his finger.
“Thank you.” She snipped off the ends of the ribbon at a slant, and held up the package. It was wrapped in the hunter-green paper with a bright red ribbon and, hanging from the bow, a small silver bell ornament the sales lady had found for David.
“That’s great, thank you for wrapping it,” David said. “While you were busy, I got the number of a tree service to get the tree taken care of, and they’re going to put a tarp over the roof of the building for now.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.” She wanted to look through Nan’s files to see whom she used for restoration. They’d need an expert to fix the roof but the only one with enough money to pay for it was David. She wondered what would come of it, but decided not to press the point.
“I got us something at the gift shop,” David said, a grin on his face. He picked up his mother’s gift and put it under the tree. “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll bring it in.”
Leah sat down on the edge of the settee and put her hands on her knees as he left the room, wondering what he was going to bring in.
He returned quickly, carrying a single card of some sort. He held it out to her.
“What is this?” she asked, turning it over in her hand. It looked like some sort of ad for a picture book.
“I’ve already paid for it, so we can get right to business. It’s a company that takes your snapshots and text and turns them into a story in a bound hardback book. I thought maybe you’d like to take some pictures at your family Christmas or maybe of the artifacts from the servants’ quarters—memories you’d like to keep.” He smiled at her, his eyes soft, that kind look that she was so used to seeing now on his face.
She put her hand on her chest, tingly warmth in her limbs. That was the most thoughtful thing he could’ve ever given her, and it had been a complete surprise. She felt the prick of tears. “Thank you,” she said.
He must have been able to read her gratitude because his face lit up with pride. “You’re welcome.”
“I want to take some pictures right now,” she said, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. “Would you walk around with me while I take them?”
“Of course. It’ll be fun. What should we photograph first?”
“There’s so much! I want to have memories of the house as Nan had it. So, let’s start with the fireplace.” She walked over, lined up her phone and snapped a picture, tapping it to check its quality. “Oh, that’s pretty.” She took one more just to be on the safe side.
They walked into the kitchen where Muriel’s flower arrangement sat in Nan’s vase in the center of the table. Leah straightened the placemats and took another photo. “Look how beautiful the flowers look,” she said, turning her phone to David. “Nan always had flowers like these in that vase. I’m so glad Muriel brought some. I was thinking how empty it looked.”
When she made eye contact with him, she could’ve sworn she saw affection in his eyes when he looked at her. He was smiling, and she wondered what he could be thinking.
“What else should I take a photo of…” She tapped her chin.
“You don’t have to have this many, but I bought you a hundred pages. It just occurred to me while we were in the kitchen that, if you’d like, I can scan in all of Nan’s recipes and they could go at the back. But that’s just an idea.”
“That’s an amazing idea,” she said getting excited.
She took pictures of Nan’s room, of the quilt squares in the sewing room; they went outside and took photos of the house, the tree-lined drive, and the James River. Her camera roll nearly full, David then helped her load the photos onto his computer, and he said when she felt like taking more to let him know.
“I can’t thank you enough for this,” she said, and without warning, she put her arms around his neck and hugged him. The hug lasted a little longer than normal, and she had to use all her strength to pull away.
Chapter 13
Roz rented part of an old Richmond row house that had been “renovated”—the term being used loosely—into apartments. What the owner had really done was thrown up a few thin walls, closing off parts of it until it resembled four separate dwellings—two downstairs and two upstairs.
The street was generally shabby, but it was a few blocks over from the magnificent, stately city homes that made the issue of City Style Magazine every Christmas, and from Roz’s bedroom window she could get a glimpse of the camera flashes at night through gaps in the buildings as photographers captured the essence of wealthy southern holiday decorating for their various publications.
Roz’s apartment was only accessible from the cobbled alleyway, lined with cars and trashcans, in the back of the property. But the long, crooked hallway that stretched from her door wound around to the front of the building and she had a nice bay window overlooking the front street from her living room. She’d always put her Christmas tree there, covered in colored twinkle lights and peacock feathers strung together to look like giant, multicolored snowflakes—only Roz…
Leah smiled when she noticed Roz’s Christmas tree painting from their girls’ night propped up on her mantle alongside a silver candelabra with purple candles.
She settled in on the sofa next to Louise as Ethan went screaming past them with his play sword, chasing Sadie and Jo who squealed with delight. “I’m making macaroni and cheese for lunch… from the box,” Roz warned from the small slab of linoleum thrown down in the corner of the room to mark off the area that had been termed “the kitchen” in the listing that she’d read aloud to Leah before she’d signed the lease. There were exactly three cabinets, a drawer, a stove with
an oven, and room for a small fridge.
“I had a sandwich at the little bistro on the corner before I came,” Louise said. “I would’ve waited, but Ethan was hungry and I didn’t know if you were planning on all of us for lunch. But thank you for offering.”
Sadie ran in and hid behind the long curtains flanking the bay window at the front. Ethan came barreling in after her, out of breath. “Has anyone seen Sadie?” he asked, his head swiveling manically from side to side. He dropped down to the floor and searched under the couch. Just then there was a tiny giggle from the curtains and Sadie came flying out, running down the hallway before Ethan could catch her.
Roz plopped down between Louise and Leah, an enormous bowl of bright orange macaroni and cheese in her lap. She swirled it around with her fork.
“What are the green flakes in there?” Louise said, leaning over her.
“Broccoli.” She turned to Louise with a dramatic flair. “The box came with a packet of added broccoli bits. I have to get my green veggies in. Health conscious and all that, you know…”
“I’m sorry I can’t stay long,” Leah said. “I have to get back to Evergreen Hill.”
“How are you feeling about everything?” Louise asked. She pressed her lips together delicately—her listening face.
“I’m getting used to the idea,” Leah said quietly. “But I don’t know how I’m going to break it to Sadie. I want to get her up to Evergreen Hill as soon as I can today so she can spend as much time as possible there before Christmas.”
“Nah, you just want to get back to David.” Roz leaned around Leah to talk to Louise and whispered, “She thinks he’s hot.”
“I should’ve never told you that I thought he was nice.” Leah shook her head. “And I’ve never used the word ‘hot’ to describe him.”
“No,” Roz said. “But your cheeks are giving you away.”
Louise giggled.
* * *
“Did you get my pillow?” Sadie asked. Her face was flushed from the heat that was blowing full blast from the car vents. Leah’d had the engine going for quite a while to keep it warm in the freezing temperatures.
“Yep.”
“And my book?”
“Yep.” Leah shut the trunk of her car, the engine growling as it worked overtime. She’d emailed Sadie’s teachers and told them that she planned to keep her out of school for the last three days before winter break, but she’d be sure to practice her math. Then she’d asked if they could email any other assignments they’d like her to complete.
“How about my sketchpad and my colored pencils?”
“Got ’em. They’re in your backpack.” Leah opened the door of the car to put a few more bags next to Sadie.
“I feel like we’re forgetting something,” Sadie worried as Leah climbed in and adjusted the rearview mirror.
“Well, if we did, it’s only a few hours away. We’ll invite Roz up for dinner and she can bring it to us. She has a key to our house, so she can water our plants for us. If you left something, she can get it.”
“Okay.”
Leah shut the door as Sadie fastened her seatbelt, eager to get out of the cold. She turned the radio on to Christmas carols and pulled out of the driveway.
Once they got on the highway, Sadie wanted to play the license plate game. It was her favorite game during long trips. Before she’d gotten too sleepy—probably from playing so hard with Jo and Ethan—they’d found North Carolina, Georgia, Michigan, California, and Iowa.
After that, Sadie had slept most of the trip, giving Leah a chance to think about how she was going to tell her daughter about the house. It was really weighing on her because she just didn’t know how Sadie would react. She’d been so sad when Nan died, and this would be another large blow. She thought about calling different gymnastics programs and using the money from selling her half to enroll Sadie as surprise to help soften the disappointment, but she just didn’t have enough time before the subject would come up—she was sure of it. Sadie would probably be asking the minute they got there.
She woke up as they neared the plantation. When they’d arrived at Evergreen Hill, and began the drive down the long road leading to the house, Leah took a peek at Sadie in her rearview mirror. She had her forehead pressed against the glass of her window, her eyes on the James River. The water was gray and choppy in the winter rain that had started spitting against the windshield the second half of the trip there.
“I wish Nan was here,” Sadie said after turning back around to face the front. “These trees always tell me when we’re close. Nan used to wait at the end of them for us. Remember?”
“Yes. The trees have been here for hundreds of years. I saw that the tree swing’s still out back. Maybe if it stops raining, you can swing.”
She rounded the small curve and came to a stop in front of the house.
Sadie hadn’t returned her comment because she was too busy leaning between the front seats to see, having taken her seatbelt off as soon as they were off the main road and on the property.
“Can we sled down the big hill if it snows some more?” The grounds had snow, but not enough to completely cover the grass. It wasn’t deep and the old sled, if it was still in the shed out back, wouldn’t make it down the hill; the metal rails would inevitably create divots of grass, slowing it down too much to sled.
Her excitement made Leah chuckle. “Well, let’s get inside first and then if it snows, absolutely.” She pulled the car to a stop.
“Can we just go in without Nan?” Sadie asked, tipping her head up to view all the way to the top of the house. “Oh! Is that David?” Sadie opened her door. Leah had given her a heads-up that things were a little different now that Nan wasn’t here, and David would be in the house too.
David was standing on the front steps, a grin on his face. But Leah’s attention was pulled to the wreaths that were hanging from the windows, and the larger one on the door. He’d put little lanterns on the front steps and there was some sort of Christmas flower arrangement on the porch. Were those poinsettias?
“Hello!” Sadie called, waving. “We’re here! I’m Sadie.” She started toward him.
“Sadie,” Leah called. “Be careful!” Sadie hadn’t seemed to hear. David started walking toward the car after he let Sadie inside.
“Hi,” he said, when he reached Leah.
“Hi. You decorated.”
“Yes. I wanted you to have a great Christmas here, so I did what I could in the time I had. I got all this from the Christmas shop in town.”
Leah didn’t know what to say. She was touched by this gesture. She looked up, noticing the lights he’d hung along the roofline. “Thank you,” she said, feeling like it wasn’t enough to express how she felt.
“You’re welcome.” He offered her a tender smile. “Need some help?” He reached past her, pulling the two large suitcases from the trunk and shutting the lid. Leah grabbed the few smaller bags from the back, and Sadie’s teddy bear, and headed up to the house beside him.
“She seems excited,” he said, glancing over to her as they walked. The suitcases were heavy, but he carried them with ease.
“Yes. It’s been ages since she was here, and she misses it.”
David opened the door and let Leah enter first. “I wanted to decorate inside but I couldn’t find the decorations.”
They came into the living room, where Sadie was already snuggled up under a quilt with the TV on.
“Sadie, would you like something to eat?” David asked.
“Not right now, but thank you.” She lay down on the settee, her eyes heavy. She was fighting to keep them open to watch the television, the long car ride having gotten to her, despite sleeping on the way.
“Are you hungry?” David asked Leah. “I made soup. It’s just canned soup that I warmed up—broccoli and cheddar. But I also have eggnog.”
“The soup smells good,” she said. “And eggnog sounds like a great starter.”
* * *
After
lunch, David had gone upstairs to do some work and Leah had curled up with Sadie on the settee until she’d woken from her little nap. She always did that after the drive to Nan’s.
She and Sadie were discussing the different kinds of pancakes she could get at the Main Street diner. Sadie had been listing the pancakes she’d like to try for the last minute or so.
“They have any kind you could think of!”
“What about brown sugar pancakes like Nan made?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” she said with a devious grin. “I’ll bet they don’t have this one: gummy worm pancakes.”
Leah laughed. “I think you might have found them a new recipe to create.”
“No,” she said, her thoughts evident in the way she stretched out the “oh” in the word. “I wouldn’t want to eat those. They don’t sound very yummy. But cotton candy does! That’s another new one!”
Leah grimaced as she laughed. “Cotton candy pancakes? Just the sound of that makes my tummy hurt.”
David came in wearing his coat and boots and holding a saw. Both Leah and Sadie stopped, mid-sentence, and looked up at him.
“Hi,” he said as he looked between the both of them, an odd expression on his face. Was it excitement? “I have an idea.”
“Any idea involving a saw is slightly worrying,” Leah joked.
David let out a huff of laughter. “I think we should have a Christmas tree. Don’t you?” he said to Sadie, pulling the quilt off of them. “Let’s go out back. We’ll cut a tree like Nan always did. How does that sound?”
Leah couldn’t stand how bare Nan’s house looked. With the family coming in, she owed it to Nan to put the house together just like she would for the holidays.