But her father . . . oh, dear . . . her father lived just a few blocks away and was a major part of her life. Or had been. The way things were going, she thought bleakly, Joe Morgan might as well be moving halfway around the world, too.
* * *
“I made a big mistake coming here. I can see that now. A lot of good it did me.” Adele sighed and brushed her hands with flour. She had been sitting in the kitchen, watching Claire knead bread dough, and now took a large flour-dusted pillow herself and began punching it down.
“Addie, don’t be so hard on yourself. Your grandchildren wanted to help. I’m sure they don’t blame you.” Claire looked up a minute from her work and met Adele’s gaze.
“I’m not sure about that. I apologized to Molly when she called yesterday. She was good about it, but I know she’s upset. Now her father isn’t speaking to her, or to Sam. What kind of Christmas will they have? All thanks to me. What good has it accomplished?” Claire didn’t answer. Adele didn’t expect her to. “I should go tomorrow. I feel fit enough for the drive,” she said before Claire could ask. She had felt so worn out after Saturday night, she had slept until nearly one on Sunday, and this morning she got up late again.
That was the way she had always dealt with emotional turmoil and stressful confrontations. Some people stayed up worrying all night. But emotional scenes drained her, like a battery that runs out of juice, more so now that she was older.
“Why don’t you stay here through Christmas, Addie? It’s only another week. We’d love to have you with us. You can see your family . . . or spend Christmas Eve here,” Claire said evenly. “It will just be me and Liza and Daniel Merritt. Our neighbors, Rob and Audrey, may come . . . and Jonathan might stay. I haven’t asked him yet, but I don’t think he’s done with his research.”
It was an intriguing invitation. If she stayed, would she see her grandchildren and their families again? She hoped they weren’t too angry with her now for the big mess she caused. Jessica and Sam had invited her for Christmas Eve. But it might be too hard to stay here if they didn’t really want to see her now.
Still, Adele didn’t look forward to going home and being alone with her thoughts in her empty house. She had left Vermont in such a rush. There were no decorations up, no Christmas tree, no presents or baking done. She didn’t really want to face that overwhelming emptiness, either.
“I’m not sure what to do, Claire. I’m really not sure,” she said honestly. “It’s all Joe, you know? Nothing we say or do can change his heart. But I see now I should have realized that. I should have known, after everything that Kevin went through. George and I pulled our hair out, trying to make him give up alcohol. We cried, we bullied, we bribed him. Right to the very end,” she admitted. “But we didn’t change him. Not one bit. He was the only one who could do that.” She sighed, punching down the pile of dough again, turning it around and around, then flipping it over. “It’s the same with Joe. I see that now. Everything Molly did with that beautiful party. Everything Kevin said and I said . . . You can’t convince someone to feel something they don’t feel. It just doesn’t work that way.”
“That is true,” Claire agreed. “You can’t talk someone into a feeling. It has to come from inside of them.”
She stopped her work and looked down at the dough, which she had coated with a light touch of oil and returned to a large yellow bowl.
“Bread is so much work. It takes so long to rise. Sometimes I don’t think it’s ever going to amount to much. It sits and sits. Then I turn around and . . . there it is, doubled up and ready for the oven. The yeast is so slow. But it always does its job.”
She covered the bowl with a clean cloth and placed it back on the counter in a warm spot, so it could sit some more.
Adele glanced at her. She had finished punching down her dough, too, and was preparing for its second rise. “You mean, I have to be patient and let Joe sit with this and see what happens?”
Claire glanced at her but didn’t answer. “There are two more meetings of the Christmas Fair committee, one tomorrow night and one on Thursday. Then the fair is on Saturday. Do you really want to leave after you put so much work in? We could definitely use your help at the table.” Before Adele could answer, her friend said, “I’m going to make some soup while the bread sits. Would you like to help?”
Adele didn’t have any place she would rather be at that moment. “I’d be happy to,” she said.
* * *
Jonathan had tried to catch up with Tess at Lilac Hall all afternoon, but she kept avoiding him. He could tell she was mad. It was so frustrating. He was sure that if she would just give him a chance to explain, she would understand and forgive him.
It wasn’t like her to be this way. She was usually so calm and logical. He hated knowing she was upset with him. He tried to work in the reading room, but he couldn’t concentrate. He kept glancing at the doorway every time he heard footsteps, hoping she was coming to see him. But she never did, even though he texted her several times.
At four o’clock he had to go down to sign out with the rest of the visitors. He finally saw her at the front desk. “Can I walk out with you, Tess?”
She shrugged and didn’t look at him. “I’ll be a while. I have to check all the rooms upstairs.”
“That’s all right. I’ll wait,” he promised.
Mrs. Fisk soon shooed him outside. It was chilly and getting dark, but Jonathan waited near the entrance, afraid that if he got into his car, he might miss Tess.
Finally, she came out, the collar on her dark blue peacoat flipped up and that candy-cane-striped scarf wrapped around her neck.
She faced him at the bottom of the steps, her hands stuck in her pockets. “I have to get home, Jonathan. What is it? Something important?” she asked pointedly.
He knew she was mimicking what he had said to Leslie. That the letters Tess had found were “nothing important.”
“I’m sorry about what happened in the diner today, with Leslie Hammond. She’s such a snoop. She was just trying to find out what my research is about. She so competitive, I can’t trust her. That’s why I interrupted you and said the letters you found weren’t important. I didn’t mean that,” he insisted. “They’re very important. You helped me immensely—”
“Good. I’m glad. That’s what I’ve been trained to do here. Now, if you will let me pass—”
He took hold of her arm. “Tess, please don’t act like that. I’m trying to explain. I’m really sorry . . . I never know how to handle that woman.”
Tess shrugged and stepped away from him. “Oh, you seemed to be handling her fine. Or she was handling you. It was hard to tell.”
He knew what she was talking about. He knew how it had looked to her, too. If he had been in her place, he would not have liked seeing some other guy acting so familiar with her.
“Okay, she took my hand while we were talking . . . and she gets very . . . huggy when we say hello. We dated once or twice,” he admitted. “But she’s not my type at all. We’re just friends. Just barely.”
“Oh? Well, perhaps you ought to tell her that. I think she’s confused.” Tess started to walk toward her car, then turned back to him. “Listen, I get it. It’s all right. I believe she’s just your friend. Honestly. And you don’t have to explain yourself to me. We hardly even know each other.”
He was pleased to hear that she believed him, but that last line stumped him. “We don’t?”
She shook her head slowly. “Not really . . . I think this has just been a . . . a fun thing between us while you were in town and I was home from school. I didn’t really think anything would come of it. I mean, after you left here. I don’t think that’s what I want now, anyway,” she added.
Jonathan felt stunned by her words. Was she just saying that to get back at him—to protect herself?
“You don’t? But w
e talked about this, just . . . Thursday night.” The best night of his life, he wanted to add. “I thought we both felt the same, I thought we had all this figured out—”
“I know what we said, Jonathan, but it wasn’t very realistic. It was a very special night and I think we just got a little carried away. But you have your life and I have mine. I don’t think the timing is very good at all. Once you get back to Tufts, you’ll be teaching classes and writing your dissertation. And I’m totally overloaded next semester with my course work. I don’t see how we’ll ever get to see each other—”
“But we could. If we really want to. We could make this work easily . . .”
Then he caught himself. She was dumping him. He hadn’t understood at first. Something had changed her feelings about him. Something that had happened today.
“So you don’t want to be in touch when we get back to the city,” he said just to make perfectly sure he understood her.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “I see. I see . . .” He didn’t know what to say after that. He felt his eyes sting and get suddenly watery. Was he actually crying? That couldn’t be. He had just been standing here in the cold too long. “Well . . . good-bye, Tess. I’ll see you around town, I guess. I’ll be here a few more days.”
Tess looked suddenly sad, like she, too, might cry. Didn’t she want this? She was the one who had started it.
“Okay then . . . so long. Good luck with your paper. Oh, and don’t forget to get those letters back to Digger before you go. I have a feeling he’s forgotten that you borrowed them.”
He nodded curtly. “I won’t forget. I’ll return them. Don’t worry.” He raised his hand and waved stiffly. “Good-bye, Tess.”
She waved back, then turned and walked off to her car.
He walked to his, but sat in the driver’s seat a long time before he could gather his concentration to head back to the inn.
What had just happened? What had he done? Everything had seemed so good between them. So easy and right.
It was over. In the blink of an eye. Jonathan couldn’t believe it.
She’d swept into his life and lit up every room in his lonely heart. Now, just like that, she was gone.
Lights out.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
On Saturday morning, just two days before Christmas, Adele found herself still at the inn. She probably would not have stayed through the week—that had never been her plan—but Claire had persuaded her, one day at a time, to put off her plans to go.
First because she was too tired for the long drive on her own, then to help at the fair committee meetings, and then to help at the actual fair, which Claire claimed was very shorthanded this year.
Adele had spoken to Kevin a few times since the unsuccessful reunion. He had been concerned to hear she was so tired and decided that since she had stayed in Cape Light this long, there was no point in her trying to rush home to Vermont for Christmas. He and his family would come down to the inn on Christmas Day to visit her. The day after Christmas, he would drive her home to Vermont in her Subaru. Janine and the kids would follow in their car. That way, they could spend the holiday together, and they would know she got home safely.
“You don’t have to do that, Kevin,” she insisted. “I’m perfectly capable of getting myself back home. I’ve just enjoyed the company down here, and they need my help for an event at the church—”
“I’m leaving here soon, Mom. There’s not too much more I can do for you. Let me help you this once, okay?”
She was glad that he hadn’t listened to her excuses. And relieved that she didn’t need to make a big dinner and entertain guests. Or drive all over New England.
“All right, if you insist. I’ve been invited to spend Christmas Day at the inn with Claire and Liza, so it all works out.” Adele nearly asked if she should tell the rest of the family he was returning, but she decided not to even go there, as the young people say.
She had been worried about his sobriety, at the party and afterward. The emotional confrontation with Joe had certainly put that at risk, and if Kevin had lapsed in his recovery because of her . . . well, she never would have forgiven herself.
It was a difficult question to ask, but ever since he stopped drinking, he had encouraged her honesty. She did ask him, and she was assured that while he had been deeply disappointed by Joe’s reaction, he had never thought to soothe his pain with drink.
“That path is closed to me now, Mom. It’s closed for good,” he promised her. “Though I will say this was the hardest test I’ve faced so far.”
Had this all been just a test of Kevin’s recovery? Had that been God’s purpose after all?
Adele was so confused. She had no idea of what to think of all of it and decided it was best if she didn’t even try. She only hoped that she lived long enough for the true meaning to be revealed to her.
* * *
“It’s good fair weather. Good weather for a fair, I mean. It will bring out the customers,” Claire said, making a little joke as she parked in back of the church.
It was a fair day, with clear blue skies, not nearly as cold as it might have been two days before Christmas. The snow that had fallen after Adele’s arrival had all but melted away. It didn’t look as if it was going to be a white Christmas after all. Better for travelers and all that, but Adele did love to see a fresh white blanket of snow on Christmas Day. It didn’t really feel like Christmas without it.
Adele and Claire made their way into the church, which was already bustling with activity, though the fair had not yet opened. Adele had forgotten how completely the church was transformed by the event. Every available space was filled with tables and activities. With a huge wreath on the big wooden doors, pine garlands in the hallways, and a beautiful tree in the sanctuary, the church was decked out for the holidays, and she could not help but feel the spirit that abounded there.
She and Claire made their way into Fellowship Hall, which had been set up the night before as the main marketplace.
“Here’s our table, number nine,” Claire said, reading from a sheet of instructions sent to the committee members. “We have the White Elephant, china, odds and ends, and collectibles. You can find a lot of gifts here if your list is short,” she suggested.
Adele’s list was very short. It was practically nonexistent, though she had picked up a few things around town during her afternoon walks. She hoped to find a few more small gifts today and at least leave them at the inn for her family, if she didn’t get to visit with them. It saddened her to think that she could be in town for the holiday, and no one would invite her to join them. But she could understand it, too. She had come down here and stirred everything up, upset the entire applecart . . .
Oh, no use dwelling on it. Or feeling sorry for yourself. You did what you thought was necessary, she told herself briskly.
Sophie Potter came over and gave them instructions for running the table, showing them how every item had been priced and ticketed with a little sticker. “Some people will try to bargain with you. That’s all right if things aren’t moving very well or it’s the end of the day. I’ll trust your judgment,” she told Claire and Adele. “If there are any outrageous offers—say on this big alabaster lamp—just come find me. This is a fund-raiser. We don’t want to give the store away,” she warned them.
Adele nodded, knowing she was most likely to do that. Even though she and her husband had run a store for many years, she had never been very good at business.
It was just past nine a.m., and the fair was not due to open until ten. There was plenty of time to visit with the rest of the volunteers, and as Adele was greeted by all of her old friends she wasn’t one bit sorry that she stayed. A vision of herself home alone in Vermont in an empty, bare little house was definitely
not more appealing.
Reverend Ben and his wife, Carolyn, were there, too. Carolyn was working at a table across the room that sold wooden toys, puzzles, and small drums and woodwind instruments for children, and Reverend Ben was helping everyone get settled in their places.
Adele wondered if he would notice her. She had not attended the service on Sunday because she was too exhausted. The reverend probably thought she was already back in Vermont.
Finally, he did notice her and quickly walked over to say hello. “Adele . . . still here? I thought you were headed home.”
“I couldn’t abandon the Christmas Fair committee, Reverend. They persuaded me to stay.” One committee member in particular, she wanted to add. But Claire was not at the table with her just then. She had forgotten something in her car and gone back to get it.
“How about your family? Did they persuade you, too?”
Adele looked at him a moment, then shook her head. “The get-together we had last Saturday at Molly’s house . . . my son Kevin came,” she added. “But it didn’t go well . . . not as I had hoped.”
He seemed to understand without her needing to say more. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know how you were counting on it. But please don’t lose heart. No sincere attempt at forgiveness is entirely lost, Adele. Think of it like drops of water, wearing down stone.”
She did think of her son Joe’s heart as stone sometimes, though she knew it was unfair of her. All she could do was nod in agreement.
“So will you be spending Christmas Day here?”
“Yes, I will. Liza and Claire have invited me, and Kevin is coming on Christmas Day with his family. Then he’s going to drive me back home. I guess my children are starting to worry about me,” she added with a laugh. “I’ve been acting a bit . . . erratically.”
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