If she let herself think about it, it seemed exactly like being married. Which of course they were but they had so little experience in acting like a married couple. They ate out a lot when Zach was home. He claimed he didn’t want her to have to spend time in the kitchen when she could be with him. Sometimes he joined her in preparing meals. She almost smiled at the memories. So much of their marriage had been spent apart. But there was nothing to complain about when they’d been together.
“That sounds good,” she said, glad not to even have to heat soup.
Caitlin quickly showered and changed into comfortable slacks, a warm sweater and house slippers. She passed Zach on the stairs when she headed down. He held out his wallet.
“Pay the guy if he shows up before I get out.”
She took it, still warm from his body. The leather was soft and supple. It was stuffed with money, credit cards and his driver’s license. She flipped it open. Facing her was an annual school photo teachers got each year. She’d given him this one several years ago. She hadn’t known he kept it in his wallet. It made her feel funny. Hadn’t he said thinking of her kept him going sometimes? Did he pull out the wallet and look at the photo often?
She felt sad at the thought of him thousands of miles away and as lonely as she was. Where had they gone wrong? Could anything be fixed?
Chapter Seven
As soon as they finished the pizza, Caitlin pleaded tiredness and escaped to her room. She wasn’t as tired as she said, just unable to face an evening with Zach, trying to keep her distance when half the time she yearned to feel his strong arms around her, wanted to hear the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.
She wasn’t in the mood to decorate a tree. Being with him was all about trying to ignore her rising awareness. She wished she knew more about what he’d been doing since she’d seen him last. How much danger he’d been in, did he get enough to eat? What did he do for recreation?
To ask would give rise to his thinking she was mellowing and maybe even reconsidering her decision. She didn’t plan to give any false or overly optimistic messages. Her decision had been hard fought and she couldn’t allow her emotions to cloud the issue.
She took the journal and pulled the afghan from the bed, going to the chair near the window. It was a bit drafty, but the wool afghan would keep her warm. The light on the small table gave a softness to the room that enabled Caitlin to imagine how it had looked in the days before electricity, when candles and oil lamps had been the means of illumination.
The entry began:
Three days until Christmas. It began to snow today. I worry about Jonathan getting through the drifts. His horse is old, if still alive. He talked about fighting on foot in the last letter I received from him. If it snows, do they cease fighting? He made no mention of the warm muffler I sent in that hastily scribbled missive. Had he not received it? I sent it with Master Jerome who was riding to rejoin the regiment. I fear Jonathan will get a chill and pray he doesn’t get sick. I wish he would come home for Christmas. He said he would try.
I’m so lonely with him gone. I miss him so. Maybe if I had babes to care for my mind would not dwell on my husband. But our marriage is young and I don’t like the days slipping away without him here.
I worry about him. Would that I could go where he goes, keeping some kind of accommodation for him to make sure he eats properly and stays warm and dry. It is probably very shocking of me, but I miss lying in his arms at night. I felt so safe and cherished with him holding me close. It’s this horrible war that is making things so difficult. When will it end?
Caitlin gazed off into space, feeling warm and safe in the room, despite the slight draft. She could empathize with the longing and worry of the long-ago Tansy. Hadn’t she lain in bed at night worrying about Zach, wondering if he were all right? How long after he was injured or killed would it have been before she heard anything?
Unlike the Revolutionary War days, communications were much faster now. Still, in war zones, or disaster areas, difficulties cropped up making communications impossible. She’d been kept awake long into the night many times, worrying about hearing from him. Imagining him dying far from home and far from her.
She shivered. He was safe. Maybe he was one of those individuals blessed through danger. He thrived on it. It scared her to death when she learned of some of the situations he’d come through unscathed. How long could his luck hold?
Maybe she should have thoughts like Tansy, going with Zach, to make sure he ate right. He was too thin--she’d noticed that on the first night. And she wasn’t doing much to help him gain back that weight. Soup and sandwiches and pizza weren’t a substitute for good nutritious meals.
Feeling restless, Caitlin laid down the journal and pushed aside the afghan. She rose and went to the stairs. The light was on in the living room. Slowly she descended and walked quietly to the door of the front room.
Zach was winding lights around the tree. The bottom third of the tree had been encircled, he was now working on the upper branches. He had all the lights on and the sparkling spots of color shimmered in the tears that filled her eyes.
Alone. It seemed so sad to decorate a Christmas tree alone. She had not done it in recent years, preferring to spend the day with her friend Abby and her family. At the condo, she’d have lots of other decorations, but not a tree.
Watching Zach, her heart felt a tug of sadness. He’d come home expecting to celebrate the holidays with her and she’d been gone. According to him, he’d done extraordinary things to get this time and she had shoved it back in his face. He had nowhere else to go, except back to the dangerous places that made news. He and his family had been estranged for years. He’d never returned home after leaving for college.
She blamed his mother for her total switch of allegiance when she remarried. How sad for her son. She'd never understand how the woman could ignore her firstborn child. Granted her other children needed her love as well, but to turn from her first was inconceivable to Caitlin.
Maybe their own marriage wasn’t going to last. But she could be kind enough, generous enough to offer him one happy last holiday together.
“Zach?”
He looked over at her. “I thought you went to bed.”
“No, I wanted to rest for a little while. I was reading. Why didn’t you wait until tomorrow? We could have done this together.”
“Really? I got the feeling you didn’t want anything to do with me,” he said, turning back to the tree. “If I want to see it decorated, I have to do it myself.”
She stepped into the room.
“I haven’t had a tree since the one we got together on our second Christmas,” she said slowly. The ornaments they’d brought up from the cellar had been put on the coffee table, the lids of the boxes off so each one could easily be seen. There were globes and spirals, fancy ones and plain. Each held a memory for her great-aunt, lost now to the ages.
“I can help,” she said lowly.
He glanced over and shook his head. “Not if it’s a chore, Caitlin. I don’t know a lot about holidays, usually working right through them as if they were any other day, but I do know they should be celebrated. Doing it as an obligation doesn’t work.”
“Christmas used to be my favorite holiday,” she said, lifting a shiny ornament and studying it. She remembered the days her parents had made so special for her. Lots of presents, big ham dinner with biscuits, sweet potatoes and of course plum pudding. Her mouth watered for some of that dessert, usually made months before the holidays and brought out as a special treat.
“As I said, usually just another day for me,” Zach said.
“What about when you were a child? It had to be special then.”
She watched as his expression turned bleak. She wished she hadn’t brought it up.
“Maybe when I was young. But it all changed after my dad died.”
She knew some of the story, how his mother’s new family became more important than her first child. How his
stepfather and he had never gotten along, and his mother always sided with the man. Zach had earned a scholarship for college and left home, never to return.
Caitlin had wished for brothers and sisters as she’d grown up, but when she’d learned of Zach’s family life, she’d been glad to be spared that. How awful not to feel loved and cherished as her parents made her feel.
As Zach had made her feel in the early days of their marriage.
As he still could.
“What?” he said, catching her gaze.
“I was remembering,” she said softly. “We started out so great, why did it go wrong?”
“I don’t think anything went wrong,” he said.
She snapped out of her mood. “Well it did.” She turned and searched the box for a hook for the ornament. “When you get the lights on, I’ll start with the ornaments,” she said, looking for the box of hooks they’d bought earlier.
She’d get the ornaments ready to hang. It would give her something to do, besides being melancholy about Tansy and her Jonathan being separated so long--or her and Zach’s situation.
For several awkward moments they continued working. Caitlin’s nerves stretched thin. She moved around to the other side of the boxes so Zach was behind her and she couldn’t see him, hoping it would calm the rampaging awareness that had her as antsy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. She could still hear him moving, hear the soft swish of the branches as he fastened the lights.
“We need Christmas carols,” she said at last, almost about to explode. She looked around the room, but saw nothing that looked like a radio or CD player.
“I think there’re some records in the room off the dining room,” Zach said.
“Records?”
“I take it your aunt was a bit old-fashioned,” he said. “Though I wouldn’t have expected it.”
Zach had met Aunt Sally at their wedding where she and he had hit it off. Caitlin and Zach had spent a long weekend with Aunt Sally that first year. He hadn’t been able to come to visit after that—work, of course, took precedent.
She left the room, not wanting to dwell on the past. Or the present. What she should focus on was the future. The glorious future when she’d have lots of family around her at holidays and not feel sad and lonely.
She found the old record player and a cabinet full of albums. Skimming through them quickly, she found several Christmas carol albums bunched together. In less than ten minutes, she had the record player hooked up in the living room and the sound of carols filled the room.
“I never saw these records before,” she commented, resuming her task of putting hooks on ornaments. She'd worked through two boxes and was starting on the third.
“What else goes on before the ornaments?” Zach asked, looking at the tree.
“The garland. That silvery thing.”
“I know what a garland is,” he said, lifting it from one box.
When the record player changed, the strains of Silver Bells began. Zach looked at her, and then stepped over, sweeping her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked, startled.
“Dancing,” he said, moving them around the large living room in time to the music.
Caitlin laughed. “It’s hardly dance music.”
“Sure it is, we’re dancing, aren’t we?” He danced with an ease that belied his years in rough places. It was as if he did it all the time.
Caitlin started to protest, the words dying on her lips. This was fun. She loved to dance and had done so little over the duration of their marriage. Giving herself up to the moment, she swayed with the music, following Zach’s lead, imagining them at a huge Christmas ball. She’d be wearing a sexy red dress—for the season and for sex appeal. Zach would be in a dark suit or even a tux. She knew he looked fabulous in a tux--he’d worn one to their wedding.
They’d dance the night away.
When the song ended, the next one was definitely not one to dance to. Slowly they came to a halt.
She looked up into his face, still caught up by the magic of the moment. “Thank you,” she said.
“Thank you,” he replied and kissed her.
Still held in his arms, Caitlin didn’t have to move an inch. She let herself continue in the magic, kissing him back, reveling in the sensations so long missing. His body was strong against hers, his muscles a complement to her softer curves. She’d always felt special with Zach—that hadn’t changed. The old memories and affection swelled and she let the future fade for a moment. Capturing the present was as good as it got.
Zach ended the kiss slowly. He wanted to carry his wife up the stairs and make love to her all night long. But he hesitated. She’d been as much a participant in the kiss as he had been. Her breathing attested to the fact. He didn’t want to spook her. He wasn’t going to settle for one night. And if he pushed the issue, he knew she could kick him out and refuse to see him again.
She opened her eyes and gazed up at him. The temptation to sweep her up was almost more than he could resist. She looked so beautiful.
“I bought cider and Christmas cookies today. Want some?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t comment on the fact they shouldn’t be kissing if they were getting a divorce. He wasn’t sure he could handle that discussion tonight.
“Sure. Want the cider warmed?”
“Of course.”
They went into the kitchen, just like old married folks, he thought wryly. Which in a way they were. But this was only their second Christmas together. How had he let work keep him away?
He opened the package of cookies while Caitlin heated the cider. Sitting at the table, he watched her, wishing so many things had been different. Knowing the future wasn’t going to go like he wanted and helpless to change anything. He should be used to it. Life had not gone the way he’d expected since his father died so long ago.
“Tomorrow I have to get back to my schedule,” she said.
“Cleaning another room?”
“Yes. One way or another, I want this place ready for whatever I decide by the time I leave at New Year’s.”
“Are you serious about moving here?” he asked. Another drawback. He couldn’t see living in this old house, surrounded by old families who’d lived here for generations, several miles from Williamsburg. It would take an hour or longer to get to Richmond or Norfolk, and neither city was exactly the hub of the world.
“I’m still thinking about it. It’s a great place to live and would be wonderful for children.”
He took a savage bite from the cookie. “There’s a lot more in life than children,” he said.
She looked at him and shrugged. “Zach, let’s not fight over anything. Let’s enjoy this Christmas. For all the things that might have been, let’s give ourselves a terrific memory to last all our lives.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
He studied her for a moment. “Why the change of heart? Yesterday you ordered me out.”
She licked her lips. “I was thinking we don’t have a lot of memories since we haven’t spent a lot of time together. Don’t you think one day you’ll regret not having a family, not spending time with that family? Careers are fine but aren't supposed to be so consuming people don’t have time for other things.”
He didn’t look ahead that far. One day he’d be too old to report the news in foreign locales. Maybe too old to work at all. What would he do then? Thinking back to the past didn’t figure in his plans. But if he was alone, wouldn’t it be something to have one special memory of the girl he’d loved enough to marry six years ago?
He’d failed her, he knew. But that was something else he couldn’t change.
Maybe Caitlin was right, take the gift of a perfect Christmas and treasure the memory all the rest of his life.
He wasn’t willing to concede he’d be alone. There had to be some way he could reach her, show her they belonged together. Convince her to stay with him.
If they had the best Christmas ever, would
n’t that sway Caitlin they were good together? Make her see they shouldn’t throw away what they had on a nebulous future which might not include that huge family she was always talking about.
“We can give it a try,” he said, already coming up with ideas to change his wife’s mind and keep their marriage intact. Wasn’t Christmas the time of miracles? He’d need one to keep Caitlin--and he was way overdue to receive a miracle.
She poured the cider into mugs and went to sit at the table, handing Zach a mug.
“I forgot to ask you earlier if you’d check on the battle of Kings Mountain for me. Or let me use your computer.”
“Who wrote the journal?”
“Tansy. Her husband was Jonathan. I’m guessing Williamson, since Aunt Sally said that her family had owned the house since it was built. She never married, her last name was Williamson, so I guess the house came down through the sons until her. I don’t really know. You’d think I’d know more about my family history.”
“Most people don’t know much beyond the relatives they actually knew. We can look up on the Internet if you like. My laptop's upstairs.”
“Naturally,” she said dryly. Then wrinkled her nose. “That was tacky. Of course you’d have your laptop. Thanks for the offer. Aunt Sally didn’t have a computer and I’d hate to wait until I return home. I want to know about the war. And if Jonathan came home.”
“Doesn’t the journal say?” he asked.
“I’m reading a day at a time. She wrote several pages each day.” Caitlin toyed with her mug for a moment, darting another glance at Zach.
“In a way, I’m seeing some of myself in her journal. She’s home alone—here I guess—and missing her husband. It must have been hard to be a woman back then with her husband gone. She mentions neighbors helping out with some of the farm chores. I think Jonathan had been gone for months.”
“Some men were gone years. Some went to fight except for the time they had to return home for harvest. It was a rag-tag army at best.”
The Christmas Locket Page 7