The Christmas Locket

by Barbara McMahon

  She quickly got ready for bed and climbed back in. Drifting off to sleep a short time later, Caitlin was anxious to return to the cellar for the first time. She’d love to find out more about Tansy. To see if there were more journals or a portrait or something. She bet her Aunt Sally could have told her about Tansy. If only she’d known about her earlier.

  It was pitch-dark when Caitlin awoke. A nightmare frightened her awake. She lay in bed searching the blackness, feeling the tendrils of the horror reluctantly let her go.

  She rolled to her side, eyes wide, straining to see something. The images of men on the battlefield wouldn’t go completely away--blown apart by guns and cannons, everyone had Zach’s face.

  She shuddered and pushed back the covers. She wanted to shake the fear that coursed through her at the nightmare. Zach was fine, sleeping down the hall. The old diary had sparked the dream—she knew that from the images of the men that had populated it—dressed as farmers and soldiers had so long ago. It was just a bad dream.

  She pulled on a thick robe, found her slippers and headed for the kitchen. Some light, a cup of warm milk and semblance of normalcy were what she needed. Turning on the hall light, she descended the stairs and padded softly into the kitchen.

  Flipping on that light, she was startled to discover Zach, sitting near the window, gazing out at the darkness. Beside him on the table was a bottle of scotch whiskey and a half empty glass.

  He turned and looked at her, squinting slightly in the light.

  “What are you doing up?” Caitlin asked. Glancing at the bottle, she raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Where did you get that?”

  “Your aunt Sally had a stash.” He raised the glass. “To Aunt Sally.” Taking a hefty swallow, he carefully placed the glass beside the bottle.

  “What time is it?” she asked, glancing at the kitchen clock. It was almost three o’clock in the morning!

  “Why aren’t you in bed?” she asked.

  “Couldn’t sleep. This homecoming isn’t exactly what I was looking forward to, you know? Not my idea of a way to spend Christmas, getting slapped in the face with a divorce demand.” He turned away.

  Caitlin stared at him. He stared out the window. What could he see in the dark?

  “What are you doing up?” he asked a minute later.

  “I had a nightmare. I thought some warm milk would help me go back to sleep. Want some?”

  He laughed, but the sound held no humor. “No, this’ll do me,” he said, reaching for the glass again.

  “I never knew you to be much of a drinker,” Caitlin said, moving to the refrigerator to get the milk.

  “Never had a need before. Trying to forget my sorrows,” he mocked.

  “Come on, Zach, don’t be dramatic.”

  He slammed his hand down on the table and rose, turning to glare at her.

  “Dramatic? Hell of a homecoming, Caitlin, to an empty condo and a bunch of paper telling me my marriage was ending. I drove like a maniac to get here and for what? An icy reception. This is not how I wanted to spend Christmas. I busted my butt getting here. You’re talking about leaving me, giving me no chance to change things and blabbering on about finding another man when you’re my wife! What do you expect me to do, just sit back and say have at it? I’m not going to do that! You won’t even go shopping for a blasted Christmas tree with me. Do I have the plague or something? Caitlin, I love you. I married you because of that and nothing has changed!”

  Caitlin stared at him, taken aback at his vehemence. She’d never seen Zach so angry, not even when talking about injustice in the world, which really riled him.

  She looked at the whiskey bottle. Was that loosening his tongue? She’d wanted to understand how he felt about things. Now she did.

  He followed her glance and picked up the bottle, holding it out for a moment, then took a healthy swig from it. “It’s the only warm thing in the house right now,” he said, setting the bottle back on the table.

  Taken aback, Caitlin opened her mouth to defend herself. Then thought better of it. She tried to see things from his point of view. She’d been thinking of this separation all fall, had discussed it endlessly with Abby. But she’d only given him a vague clue in all her e-mails. Essentially he’d walked into the situation cold.

  He’d expected Christmas at home and she’d been gone.

  Had he been as lonely as she during the months apart? Did he sometimes wish things were different?

  Guilt played on her. She should have told him in her emails what she was thinking. Should have given him a chance to open a discussion. Caitlin tried to be fair. And if she were fair to Zach, she'd ease up some. They were only together for another few days. She could be cordial during that time. They’d married thinking they’d be together forever. She’d known when she married him what his job was. Just because she couldn’t cope wasn’t a reason to condemn the man. The fault lay with her.

  “Okay, I’ll go get the tree with you,” she said before she thought.

  He looked at her, then at the bottle. “Gee, thanks a bunch for the mighty concession.” He picked up the bottle and walked out of the room.

  Caitlin stared at the place he’d stood, hearing the echo of his anger. Tears filled her eyes. She never thought he’d care. She thought she’d be the only one to mourn the ending of their marriage. But maybe she’d been wrong about Zach.

  Turning to the stove, she blinked, trying to clear her vision. Once the milk heated, she added cinnamon and poured it into a mug. She left the pan soaking in the sink. Carefully carrying the mug of warmed milk, she turned off the lights behind her. She didn’t hear anything from Zach’s room.

  Her heart ached that he’d drink himself stupid because of her. It was so unlike the man. Or at least the man she thought she knew.

  Going into her bedroom, she wondered what else she could have done. Written him sooner? But what would he have thought of an e-mail telling him they were through?

  She could have discussed it with him—if he’d ever come home. Even today, when he’d tried to talk about it, she’d been stubbornly reticent—saying only she wanted it to end.

  She slipped into bed and sipped her milk. She was feeling as melancholy as Tansy had sounded in her diary. She could relate to the loneliness Tansy wrote about. How many nights had she lain in bed wishing so hard that Zach was with her? How many days had she gone through the motions of living, always feeling a part of her was missing?

  Did Jonathan come back to Tansy? Did they have a long and happy life together? They were probably her great-great-great or more grandparents. She should find out about them before the end of the holiday.

  As to what to do with the house? Caitlin was growing attached to it. She liked the location on the banks of the wide James River. She was in the country, yet only a short distance from Williamsburg, and not too far from the bigger cities of Norfolk and Richmond. It was a lovely, ideal setting in which to raise children.

  A pang struck her. She’d so love to have a child with Zach, a little boy with his daddy’s dark hair and eyes, or a small girl with Zach’s determination and observation traits. But she didn’t want to raise a child alone. She wanted its father actively involved. Home for school events and soccer meets. To have the house filled with love and laughter.

  But that wasn’t going to happen with Zach and she had to let go those dreams and forge new ones.

  She’d find a man to love. A man who wanted what she wanted, a home, a close-knit family that shared every aspect of living. And together they’d have a perfect future.

  She just had to get through this holiday with Zach.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning was blustery. The fierce winds blew the bare trees, snapping them back and forth at its whim. The sky was a steel-gray, clouds roiling along the path of the wind.

  Caitlin gazed out the kitchen window. There were white-caps on the river. It looked cold and miserable. She didn’t want to go out at all, much less to search for a tree. She set the c
offee to brew and pulled down a box of her favorite cereal. She wasn’t cooking breakfast this morning.

  She filled her bowl and got the milk. A movement outside caught her eye and she leaned over the sink to see better.

  Zach was walking along the bank of the river, hands in his pockets, head bent against the wind. He stopped opposite the window and gazed out across the river for a long moment. She wondered what he was doing out there. Then she wondered if he were freezing. His jacket didn’t seem heavy enough for the wind that was gusting.

  For a long moment Caitlin watched Zach. He seemed frozen in place. What was he thinking? Any regrets about their marriage? Or was he miles away at some newsworthy site, wondering how long before he’d be back in the field again?

  When he turned and began walking toward the house, she darted away from the window. Pouring the milk on her cereal, she sat down just as he came in the back door. It would weaken her stance if he knew how much she longed to be with him.

  If he’d only agree to stay home, they could make the best future in the world. But that would mean changing almost everything about him, and Caitlin didn’t see that happening.

  “Morning,” he said, closing the door behind him. It slammed when the wind snapped it from his hand.

  “Good morning,” Caitlin replied. “Coffee’s ready and there’s cereal for breakfast. What were you doing outside so early?” Especially after your late night, she wanted to add, but prudently didn’t voice the thought.

  “I wanted to see some of the river. Could you have a dock here? Maybe a small boat to take out on the water?”

  “I guess. I never asked Aunt Sally. She was in her seventies when I first started coming during the summers. A neighbor a few doors down had a boat, which they tied to a small dock. I used to go out in it a lot. We’d even swim from the dock in the hot weather. The river current isn’t that strong.”

  “Nice house and yard. You have a lot of land around it.”

  “An acre, I think it is.”

  He poured himself a cup of coffee. Caitlin watched him as she ate. He didn’t seem any the worse for wear after last night.

  She was still a bit shaken from her nightmare and from the poignant words from Tansy. Which reminded her.

  “What do you know about a battle at Kings Mountain?” she asked.

  “We won it,” he said, getting a bowl and spoon. He snagged the box of cereal and filled his bowl. Sitting near Caitlin, he reached for the milk.

  “When was it?”

  He looked at her in puzzlement. “It was during the Revolutionary War. One of the battles that began changing the tide for the colonists. Can’t remember exactly when it was, but I think it wasn’t too long afterward that Washington met Cornwallis at Yorktown, maybe a year or so. So maybe 1780, around there.”

  “Imagine that,” Caitlin said softly, amazed she had a journal from the 1700s.

  “Why do you want to know about Kings Mountain?” he asked.

  “It’s mentioned in that journal I found yesterday. I want to see if I can find others. I didn’t realize it was so old. The leather is still in good condition, the writing's a bit faded, but it’s not deteriorating like I’d think a book that old would.”

  “Probably not made like paper was later. If it’s from the 1700s rags were the primary component, lasted much longer than the later wood pulp paper. Are you still going with me to get that tree?”

  “I don’t know. It looks cold outside.” She was having second thoughts--and thirds. Being with him and not hoping for a future was almost more than she could bear. She wanted him to storm in and say he loved her more than anything—even his job—and would never leave.

  “It’s cold and blustery and threatening to storm. We might have snow before night. But it feels good after the heat of the Middle East. Bundle up, you won’t freeze,” he said.

  So much for a promise never to leave.

  They ate in silence. Caitlin was afraid to disturb the quiet. She hadn’t a clue what Zach was thinking. At the end of the holiday, would he quietly go back to work and let her get the divorce uncontested? Or would he argue against it for whatever reason, and then take off? The only thing she knew for certain, he would not remain long in Washington.

  Glancing at the kitchen clock, she saw it was too early to go for the tree, yet she didn’t want to get started on another room until after they got back. She knew how dirty she’d get.

  “I sorted through some of the decorations last night,” Zach said, rising to take his bowl to the sink. “I even tested the lights. Most work. We can get replacements at a store. You’ll like the ornaments…your aunt had some unusual ones.”

  Caitlin looked out the window at the signs of the wind. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go tree hunting in the best of times and today’s weather didn’t qualify for best. Why had she agreed to go?

  Promptly at ten they arrived at the tree farm. Despite it being so close to Christmas, they were not the only ones there, but the other two families had a half dozen children between them running around, exclaiming which tree was the biggest and begging their parents to buy it quick before someone else got it.

  “Cut it yourself or we’ll do it,” the man by the gate said. He gestured to saws and small hatchets.

  Zach looked at them and then at Caitlin.

  “At the risk of proving totally inept, I say we try cutting it ourselves,” he said.

  “Don’t look at me, I know nothing about being a lumberjack,” she said,.

  The man on the stool laughed. “Nothing to it, ma’am. Just cut near the ground, level so it’ll set right in your stand. No need to be a lumberjack.”

  Zach laughed and took a small saw. He started down one row.

  Caitlin followed slowly, watching the children. If they'd had children earlier, their kids would be running around now, excited about getting a tree. What an special time holidays were with children. The boys and girls were having such fun running up and down the rows. She could just imagine that fun continuing after they chose their tree. They’d go home and each mother and father would encourage them to decorate it. Ornaments that were family heirlooms would be lovingly placed on the branches. Maybe each child would get a special ornament commemorating this Christmas. Tinsel would be hung—carefully by the mother, and thrown on by children. Laughter, hot chocolate, dreams would be shared.

  She wanted those happy days for herself. She wanted a family.

  Zach was way ahead of her when she looked for him. She hurried down the row, thinking how bland the outing was with just the two of them. The only good thing was the wind had died down. Surrounded by fragrant trees, she hoped they'd be done soon.

  When she caught up with him, she was startled by the happiness in his eyes.

  “I measured the space in the living room and we can have a seven foot tree. This starts the seven footers,” he said, pointing to a tree a few inches taller than he was.

  Caitlin hadn’t even thought about that aspect.

  “Did you see those kids?” she asked, looking back down where they were.

  “Yeah, noisy, weren’t they?”

  “They’re so excited about getting a tree. I can’t wait until I have children to share days like this with them.”

  He looked away. When she glanced at him, the happiness had vanished. Was that sadness she saw in his gaze? A reminder that if she had children, it would be with another man. She’d start a family without Zach.

  The thought pierced like a knife. She couldn’t imagine another man filling her heart like Zach. Would there be anyone else for her? Or was she risking a long and lonely future by saying goodbye?

  He didn’t like the idea of her with someone else, yet he refused to do anything about them. He had his job, she wished him joy in it. Surely he could see there was no future for the two of them.

  “This is a nice tree,” she said, trying to get the expedition over with. It was safer back at the house. She wasn’t trying to make things any more difficult than they were. But
if he thought taking her to buy a tree would repair six years of neglect, he had rocks in his head.

  “If that’s the one you like, I’ll cut it down.”

  She could be imagining the disappointment in his tone, but she wasn’t sure. It wouldn’t hurt to extend the expedition a little longer.

  “Oh, wait. Let’s look at a couple more. Just to be sure.”

  They spent more than a few minutes looking at different trees. While the conifers had been trimmed to conform to a perfect shape, there were slight imperfections in each one.

  Zach commented on some, Caitlin on others until they had been there almost an hour and not settled on a tree.

  “I’m freezing,” she said. Even without the wind, the day was cold. The earlier families had left. Another group had shown up. The tree farm seemed to be doing a good business for three days prior to Christmas.

  “I wanted that last tree. Agree with me so we can cut it down and head for home,” she said. “My fingers may have frostbite.”

  “It’s not that cold. If that’s the one you want, I’ll settle for it.”

  “Settle? It’s a gorgeous tree!”

  “It has a gap near the bottom.”

  “Put that side next to the wall. I want that tree!”

  “Fine, we’ll take that one. We also need to stop at the store on the way home, to get the bulbs for the burned out lights. Do we need tinsel?” he reminded her.

  Caitlin walked around her chosen tree slowly, examining it from top to bottom. There was one bare spot, but not a large one, it could be right next to the wall where no one would see it.

  Not that anyone would see the tree except Zach and her. They had no friends here, had not invited anyone to share the day with them.

  Still, she wanted it to look nice—in honor of using Aunt Sally’s ornaments, she told herself. The fragrance filled the air. It would be wonderful in Aunt Sally’s old house.