Coming Home for Christmas

by Patricia Scanlan

  ‘Well that smacks to me of kettles and pots, if you don’t mind my saying so. And who’s being bossy now?’ she said tartly.

  JJ laughed. ‘I’ve had no one to practise on since you left New York, woman.’

  ‘Is that right?’ She grinned at him. ‘So how did Christmas go?’

  ‘Quiet. Spent a lot of time with the family. The bossy sisters gave me a hard time, wanted to bring me shopping for clothes and everything.’ He grimaced. ‘I . . . um . . . went to the grave every day. It’s still strange to even say it.’

  ‘I’m sure that was hard,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Yep.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Is it getting any easier?’ she ventured hesitantly.

  ‘Grief is a strange thing,’ he sighed. ‘You’re motoring along thinking you’re on an even keel and it just smacks you in the face again and you’re right back at square one. Sometimes when I’m having a good time like that night we played cards, I feel really guilty afterwards. Feel I’ve no business enjoying myself.’ He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and stared straight ahead at the pounding sea, his jaw taut. She could see the muscle at the side of his mouth jerking.

  ‘Ah, JJ,’ Alison exclaimed, putting a comforting hand on his back and giving it a little rub. ‘I’m sure your wife would hate you to feel like that. If it were the other way around, would you want her to feel that way?’

  ‘Not at all, I’d want her to be happy, want her to move on, of course I would,’ he exclaimed. ‘But it’s hard.’

  ‘I know,’ she soothed, ‘but you must apply that to yourself, because as long as you grieve for her so desperately you keep her a prisoner too and she can’t move on. You must let her go free to do what she has to do now.’

  ‘Easier said than done.’ His blue eyes clouded.

  ‘I know, but you really shouldn’t add guilt to the grief you carry. That’s an unnecessary burden. It’s hard enough to live with what you have.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll try and keep it in mind.’ He smiled at her. ‘So you believe in life after death then?’ he probed.

  ‘I do,’ she said seriously. ‘I feel there’s much more to us than just our bodies. I read somewhere that the body is just like an overcoat the Spirit sheds when it leaves. It makes sense to me. I read a book by John O’Donohue called Anam Cara—’

  ‘Ah, he loved my part of the country, Connemara. Anam Cara, Soul Friend. That sounds lovely.’ He looked at her, as if surprised she would read a metaphysical book such as the acclaimed writer and poet’s.

  ‘I got a present of it from my mother when I was going back to America a few years ago; I think she was trying to keep me from getting too sucked into materialism and the high-flying lifestyle I was embracing at the time. I was blown away by it. I’ll get you a copy. There’s a part in it that deals with death specifically. It’s lovely, JJ, you’d never think of death the same again when you read it, because I remember soon after I read it, my dad’s sister died, and they were very close, and we held a wake for her—’

  ‘We waked Anna, my wife, too,’ he said huskily.

  ‘It’s a lovely thing to do, and in Anam Cara it just describes perfectly what happens to the soul and how it goes on its journey, and it will really help you to read it, it really makes you believe in the afterlife and that there is somewhere wonderful to go to,’ she said earnestly.

  ‘What does it say?’ He leaned against the small gate and folded his arms.

  ‘Well, I hope I put it OK, I won’t be able to do justice to his words, but he says that it is so important to support and comfort the beloved on their journey. That being with the soul that’s passing over as it makes its way to the eternal world is an incredible privilege and that one’s own grief should not burden them as they pass. That can come later. He writes about the comfort of the wake, and minding, sheltering and protecting the loved one in the familiar surroundings of their own home. What consolation it gives us to have the loved one with us for those last precious hours where all the people they loved and who loved them come to pray and talk and reminisce.’

  ‘That’s what we did for Anna; we did all that,’ JJ said with great conviction. ‘That’s exactly what we did and, now that you say it, it was very comforting to have her until the end.’

  ‘Well then, her soul wasn’t troubled because you gave her permission to continue to the next part of her journey, just as you must continue yours, now,’ Alison said firmly.

  ‘You’re wasted in banking, you should be in counselling or something,’ JJ said seriously. ‘I’ve never spoken to anyone like this before about Anna and her death and death in general, or about my feelings of guilt. How do you know these things?’ he demanded, staring at her.

  ‘I don’t know, my Mam is very strong about learning from every experience, and not asking why it’s happening but what you’re learning from it. She always maintains that when one door closes another one opens that leads to something better.’

  ‘Is that why you’re so calm about all the money you lost?’ He was really curious by now.

  Alison laughed. ‘Trust me I wasn’t that calm, especially at the beginning. I was freaking out. I was so angry. But I’ve seen enough of it in business to know if you let losses like that eat away at you, you become bitter and enraged and you can think of nothing else and it ruins your life. I had to come home really, to connect properly with my Mam’s kind of thinking again. I was losing all that in America. So in a weird way it was a gift to me, telling me to cop on to myself. So I’m taking my hammering on the chin and smiling, or at least trying to.’

  ‘You’re doing great, Dunwoody,’ he approved, his eyes full of admiration.

  ‘You’re not doing so bad yourself, Connelly,’ she assured him warmly, and they smiled at each other as the bond that had been there from the beginning strengthened between them in the most comforting and comfortable way.

  ‘Thanks. Thanks for being a pal. It was great to talk like that,’ he said, with a hint of embarrassment.

  ‘Any time, that’s what friends are for,’ she said lightly, not wanting to make a big deal of it for him.

  ‘So’ – he stretched as if a burden had lifted – ‘would you like to go for a drink or what would you like to do?’

  ‘We could go for a walk on the beach and then have a big mug of hot chocolate in the café in the village. It’s gorgeous,’ she suggested.

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ he agreed, and they turned to walk back to the kitchen.

  ‘Sit down now and eat up.’ Esther pointed to the table where cold cuts of meat, cheese, pickle, homegrown beetroot, and fresh homemade brown bread awaited him.

  ‘You’d get on well with my mother.’ He laughed when he saw the feast.

  ‘You can walk it off on the beach. By the time I’ve finished with you you’ll be a whippet,’ Alison assured him.

  ‘Fast walker, are you? We’ll see who can walk the fastest,’ he challenged, as he tucked into his meal. He was just finishing a slice of Esther’s pudding and creamy brandy butter when his phone rang.

  ‘Excuse me, it’s one of the bossy sisters. The one I’m staying with tonight,’ he said as he took the call. ‘Oh! OK. I’m on my way, take it easy,’ he said hastily. ‘Alison, Mr and Mrs Dunwoody, I’m sorry to be so rude, my sister’s gone into labour, I’m going to meet them at Our Lady of Lourdes, otherwise I won’t get to see her before I go back. I hope you don’t think I’m being unmannerly by eating and running.’ He stood up.

  Alison’s heart sank. She felt gutted. She’d been looking forward to their walk and hot chocolate, and laid-back companionship, especially after what had passed between them earlier. Things had changed. Now there was trust and a revealing of each to the other, as well as their easy friendship. What unfortunate timing. She pasted a smile on her face and stood up from the table. ‘Just drive carefully and give her our best wishes,’ she said calmly, making an excellent job of hiding her disappointment. I should have been an actress, she thought wryly. I could give Kate lesso
ns.

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ Esther assured him. ‘You’re not being rude at all.’

  ‘Thanks so much for the meal, Mrs Dunwoody, it was very tasty. Just as well I had it, God knows what time I’ll get fed tonight.’ He smiled as he shook hands with them both.

  ‘Safe journey,’ Liam said, as JJ followed Alison out of the kitchen.

  ‘Well, I guess the walking challenge will have to wait until we’re back in the States. When are you back?’

  ‘Two days after you.’

  ‘I’ll see you in NY so,’ he said as he reached the car. He gave her a bear hug. ‘And, Alison . . .’ He fixed her with his blue-eyed gaze.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Thanks for the talk and the advice. I really value it, I want you to know that.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ she said. ‘Follow it.’

  ‘Sure thing, Dunwoody.’ He smiled at her, his eyes locking with hers intently.

  Alison smiled back broadly and knew for definite that their friendship had gone to another level, and that gave her the warmest feeling. As she watched him drive away she knew that going back to New York wouldn’t be half as difficult knowing that he was there. Her ‘kettles and pots’ barb came to mind, and she chewed the inside of her lip. It really was time she told her parents about her current situation. Both of them at different times over the holidays had asked her was everything OK at work and remarked on the length of her stay. They weren’t fools; they knew something was up. Parents always did.

  ‘I’m going to stick the kettle on, there’s something I need to talk to you about,’ Alison said briskly as she walked back into the kitchen.

  ‘It’s about time.’ Her mother smiled at her, pulling out a chair beside her. ‘Your father will put on the kettle. Now tell us what’s going on, because we know something’s not right.’

  Alison laughed. ‘You and Dad always knew when something was up . . . it’s not a huge drama. It’s just that I’ve lost my job and had to sublet the apartment and things have changed in that regard—’

  ‘Ah, Alison, why didn’t you tell us?’ Esther protested as Liam laid a comforting arm around Alison’s shoulder.

  ‘I didn’t want to spoil the party or Christmas, so I’m telling you now,’ she said calmly.

  ‘You’re an awful girl for keeping things to yourself,’ Liam said sternly.

  ‘But getting better,’ Alison grinned, hugely relieved that it was all out in the open at last.

  They sat in the kitchen until long after dusk had encroached, darkening the sky, discussing her options, and that night she slept like a baby knowing that her family were there to help, whatever came her way, and JJ would be in New York when she went back.

  Chapter 15

  She was really going to miss Alison, Olivia thought sadly three days later as she bundled the girls into the car to bring them to stay with their grandparents while she brought Alison to the airport. Her sister had said that she didn’t want the whole family there, it would be too upsetting, and Olivia felt it was the right decision. Farewells were always distressing.

  ‘I don’t want Auntie Alison to go away,’ Ellie pouted.

  ‘We don’t either but she has to go to work to pay her bills,’ Kate explained kindly. ‘Don’t be sad, baby.’

  Olivia gave a wry smile at this exchange. Ten minutes ago, there’d been skin and hair flying between them over My Little Pony.

  ‘I think she should work here,’ Lia said as she began plaiting her doll’s hair.

  ‘Don’t say anything about work or going away or staying or anything,’ Olivia said hastily. ‘And be on your best behaviour please.’

  ‘Of course, Mother,’ Kate said snootily. And Olivia almost laughed out loud at her daughter’s superior tone as she started the engine and headed out the drive.

  Alison’s case was in the hall when they all surged in and, again, Olivia felt a huge pang of loneliness. She could hear Leo in the kitchen telling Alison she needed to put a bit more meat on her bones.

  Her sister jumped up when she saw her, and Olivia knew she was anxious to go. There was no point in dragging it out. Esther was trying to appear bright and cheerful, but Olivia knew she would be in tears the minute Alison was out the door.

  ‘Auntie, Auntie, Auntie,’ Kate said dramatically, throwing herself on Alison.

  ‘I think you should be on the stage, Miss Drama Queen,’ Alison grinned, hugging her tightly. ‘Right, kisses, everyone. Time to go. I’ll ring as soon as I land at JFK,’ she said, briskly, but Olivia knew she was only holding it together by a thread.

  The hugs were tight, heartfelt, with murmured endearments, and then Olivia got behind Alison and pointed her in the direction of the hall. She knew she had to get her out. Their mother’s face was crumpling, Liam and Leo’s eyes were bright with tears, and Ellie was ready to bawl.

  ‘Out, go on,’ she muttered. ‘I’ll get the case.’ She grabbed the case and followed her sister out the front door and down the path. She’d deliberately parked on the street so that Alison wouldn’t see their parents in tears at the front door.

  Alison was giving great gulping sobs as she got into the car.

  ‘Sorry,’ she whispered, ‘sorry,’ as Olivia hefted the case into the back.

  ‘Shush, it’s OK.’ She was starting to cry herself. The family had crowded out the door, and Esther was leaning against Liam, holding Ellie by the hand, while Leo had his arms around the twins.

  ‘Bye. Ring when you get there.’

  ‘God bless, darling, and come home to us if things don’t work out.’

  ‘Safe journey.’

  ‘See ya, Auntie Alison.’

  ‘Come home soon, and bring more high heels.’

  ‘An’ lipstick, my bestest auntie.’

  The chorus of goodbyes undid Alison completely, and she wept uncontrollably as Olivia scorched down the street with a start that would have put Jenson Button to shame on the grid.

  ‘Oh God! This is awful!’ Alison wiped her eyes and blew her nose and struggled to control herself.

  ‘Come back home and live, why don’t you?’ Olivia said irritably, wiping her own eyes.

  ‘We’ll see what happens. I’ll be OK when I’m there.’

  ‘Well, we won’t. We’ll really miss you. I’ll really miss you, Ali, it’s been great having you here.’

  ‘I think that’s why I stayed away those past Christmases. It’s so horrible leaving. I’d forgotten how awful it was. I’ll miss you too,’ she gulped.

  ‘Let me know exactly what’s going on with you. No secrets now, OK? I’m so glad you told the parents and I don’t have to worry about letting it slip,’ Olivia sniffled.

  ‘Me too, and I’ll keep you informed. Don’t worry.’ Alison nodded, wiping her eyes again. ‘Don’t come into the airport with me, just let me out at the set-down.’

  ‘Ah, Ali,’ protested Olivia.

  ‘Please. It will be too hard for me. OK?’

  ‘OK!’ her sister agreed reluctantly. ‘Any word of JJ’s sister?’ Olivia changed the subject.

  ‘Baby boy, two hours after she got to the hospital.’

  ‘She did well. That was a short labour.’

  ‘It’s her third. JJ’s delighted it’s a boy, he needs a few male allies, he said.’ Alison rooted in her bag for a mint. ‘Want one?’

  ‘Thanks.’ Olivia took one. ‘You like him, don’t you?’

  Alison was silent.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘He’s still grieving his wife. It doesn’t matter whether I like him or not, even though we get on like a house on fire,’ Alison said gloomily.

  ‘Maybe he hasn’t met the right person to help him move on until now,’ Olivia pointed out gently.

  ‘Oh! I hadn’t thought of it like that.’

  ‘Well, keep it in mind, little sis.’ Olivia smiled at her.

  ‘Yes, Olivia!’ Alison saluted, and they both laughed.

  ‘Don’t get out of the car, and drive away quick, won’t you?’ she urge
d as they turned up the ramp to the set-down area a while later.

  ‘OK!’ Olivia sighed deeply as she drew to a halt.

  Alison jumped out and retrieved her case from the back. ‘Love ya.’

  ‘Love you too. Safe journey,’ Olivia said, struggling to stay composed.

  Alison straightened her shoulders and grabbed the handle of her case, and the last Olivia saw of her was her striding through the door of Departures with her glorious auburn mane blowing in the wind. As she edged back out into the traffic, she burst into tears.

  She’d seen a different side to her sister this time, a softer, more vulnerable side. And after their little tiff, Olivia finally felt Alison was more aware of her pressures, just as Olivia was now much more attuned to the pressure Alison was under. The grass on her side of the fence no longer seemed as green as Olivia had imagined it. In fact, she wouldn’t want Alison’s life at all, Olivia decided as she hurried weepily home to the bosom of her family.

  She would not cry, Alison vowed, biting her lip hard as the great green and white jet roared down the runway and lifted its great bulk into the sky, soaring over the green fields of North County Dublin and banking steeply to head west. Leaving home today had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. Age was beginning to creep up on Esther and Liam. It was unsettling to acknowledge that they had more years behind them than ahead of them. Watching her parents, Leo and the girls waving at her from the drive had been crucifying. For the first time, she realized how greatly loved she was. For the first time, too, she realized what a balm home was to the spirit and how lucky she was. She knew many people for whom home meant misery, angst, tension and unhappiness, people who were far less fortunate than her, for whom home did not equate with love.

  She’d never really valued it until this trip, she thought guiltily as the M50 wound its way through the countryside beneath them and the engines throbbed with every fibre to thrust them above the clouds and rob her of her last glimpse of Ireland. The woman who had flown home for her mother’s surprise party was a far different woman to the one that was flying back to America. Her priorities had changed radically. Career was no longer the be-all and end-all of life, and that in itself was a huge shift and a huge relief. So what if she had to let the apartment go? It wasn’t the disaster she’d thought previously. She’d get a job somewhere and, if she didn’t before the end of the three-months sublet with the studio, she’d consider her options. And one of those options might well be coming back to Ireland, she decided as she tried to banish the memory of the chorus of goodbyes that had cut to the core of her.