by Freda, Paula
This was the Christmas atmosphere Julie longed for from childhood. Not that her mother didn't celebrate Christmas, but she did so sparingly. A foot high artificial Christmas tree with a few lights and some store purchased Christmas balls, with an occasional handcrafted ornament that Aunt Lynn had gifted Julie. The small plastic wreath at the door was not replaced until it fell apart.
If poverty had been the excuse for the frugality, Julie would have understood. But that wasn't the reason. Her mother obsessively hated the least bit of clutter, and unless Julie hid an ornament that was special to her, all decorations were discarded the day after New Year's.
Not so, here at Kathleen's. Little Drew and Michael regaled Julie with every ornament that they had crafted, from simple paper ornaments to those Uncle Ev had carved and painted, and to others that relatives and friends had gifted them over the years. There was even one freshly painted cardboard reindeer for little Lisa. Julie sipped at her eggnog, listening to the two boys vying for her attention.
"Hello, Julie," a woman's silken voice intruded.
Julie turned.
Carol greeted, "Merry Christmas Eve,"
A shiver crawled up Julie's spine.
"Hello, Carol. Merry Christmas. I didn't know you were coming.
"I didn't either. But Evan called and demanded I be here."
"Oh, if I'd known, I would have brought you a present."
"No need to worry. I didn't bring you one, either."
Julie lowered her gaze. She didn't expect a present from her rival. She wondered if Carol knew Evan had asked her to be his steady.
This was the season of good will and peace on earth, the season to mend hurt feelings and form new friendships. Julie offered an olive branch. "Carol, I know how much Evan values your friendship, and I want very much to have it as well."
Her rival's gaze narrowed. "Somewhat difficult in our situation, don't you think?"
"No, it's not. We're both mature adults, and we both care for Evan. Please, I don't want you as an enemy."
"You're right, Julie. You don't want me as enemy," she threatened.
"Carol, I didn't chase after him. And he's the one who asked me to be his steady."
The woman's eyes widened. She didn't know, after all, Julie thought.
"You didn't have to accept."
"I did have to. I'm in love with him."
Carol hissed, "Two months. You've gone out with him two months. I've gone out with him for years."
"But just as friends," Julie said hopefully. "There was never anything more than friendship between you. He told me as much. Was there more, Carol? Please, don't lie, for the sake of that love we both share for him."
The lie was there, on her lips. But despite Carol's cattiness, her smugness, her arrogant manner, Julie sensed that deep inside, Carol was not an evil person. Evan would never have befriended her, otherwise.
The woman, beautiful, refined, elegant in satiny red brocade, held back the lie. Her breasts under the plunging V-neckline heaved. She snarled, "It might have been more, if you hadn't come along!"
Julie fell back as if Carol had physically slapped her. Her hand went to her cheek, burning from the venomous sting of Carol's accusation.
"What's going on?" Evan's said, approaching the two. Julie realized how quiet the room had grown, and that everyone was watching them. Oh Lord, they'd heard; everyone had, including Evan. What must he think of her. She'd tagged herself and Carol as two mature adults, but a mature adult with a modicum of tact and awareness of the other guests in the room, would have walked away at the first sign of cattiness, and avoided the rest of the conversation.
"The eggnog must be going to my head," she muttered. "I think I need a breath of air." Too embarrassed to meet Evan's gaze head on, she turned and went into the kitchen where the back door led to a small snow-covered patio and yard sporting a children's gym set. Overheated with embarrassment and certain she had lost any serious feelings Evan might have developed for her, she brushed off the bench nearest her flanking the redwood table and sat down. Bowing her head, she covered her face with her hands as tears followed, but not Evan. After a few minutes of wallowing in self-pity, she calmed. Resigned, and growing aware of the chill, she hugged herself, shivering. The back door opened. She turned to see. Holding a knitted wrap, Kathleen joined her.
"Here, sweetie, you must be freezing." She placed the wrap around Julie's shoulders.
"What about you?"
"I just came out to bring you back in."
Julie shook her head. "No, I can't ... I can't face Evan."
"You didn't do anything wrong. That—" she held her tongue. "I won't say the word. My boys might hear. They're waiting by the door, behind us."
Kathleen stressed, "Carol should have had more sense. Even I didn't know she was coming, and I didn't invite her in the first place."
"She said Evan demanded she come."
"In a pig's eye," Kathleen laughed. "He's been dodging her passes for years. My brother is in love with you."
Julie's face showed her uncertainty.
Kathleen reassured her, "I'm three years older than my brother, and I know him pretty well. I've seen the way he looks at you, and the respectful tone in his voice whenever your name is brought up."
Julie sighed. "Maybe after tonight, he'll rethink his feelings for me."
"I don't think so. And in my opinion, he'd be a fool if he did. In any case, please come back into the house before I begin to shiver."
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, Kathleen. Would you mind if I went upstairs for a little while, to the guest room. I really don't want to face anyone right now."
"Of course, sweetie. But you needn't worry. Carol has gone. Unfortunately, my good-natured brother insisted he drive her home all the way to the Hudson River Valley."
"Oh," Julie said. "Then he'll probably not be back tonight. Probably not tomorrow either?"
"Not to worry, Julie. You're joining us for Midnight Mass and you're staying over Christmas. I won't take no for an answer."
Julie nodded. "All right. Thanks. I honestly don't relish being by myself this Christmas."
"I don't blame you," Kathleen said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Kathleen's parish Church was filled to the brim and overflowing with parishioners and visitors. The Baby Jesus statue now lay in the manger betwixt His Mother and Saint Joseph. The Three Kings, shepherds and lambs paid homage to the infant, the Son of God. Poinsettia Plants, Ivy, and Balsam wreaths in profusion decorated the interior and the exterior of the Church. In the loft, the choir sang Christmas hymns, and uplifting spirited verses and refrains from Handel's glorious Messiah. The three priests celebrating the High Mass were garbed in white vestments embroidered on the back and the front with a gold-colored cross. The Mass with its uplifting homily, the prayers, and receiving Jesus in the form of bread and wine, lessened her downcast feelings. Midway through the Mass, Lisa fell soundly asleep in her mother's arms.
Drew zonked out the moment his father secured him into the child seat. The group returned home, tired, but exhilarated, and filled with the peace of Christmas. Bill carried Drew up to his bedroom, while Kathleen led Julie to the guest room, and making sure she was comfortable, encouraged her not to fret about Evan and Carol.
"Evan, or not, we'll all celebrate Christmas in the morning, starting with breakfast. I'm certain my brother will be back by Dinner ... or at least he'll call," she said. "If you need extra blankets, there are some in the chest at the foot of the bed. God Bless you, dear, and sweet dreams. Goodnight."
"The same to you, dear Kathleen, and thank you for all your kindness."
Despite feeling snug and warm in the comfortable bed, sleep evaded her. The few hours she did manage were riddled with confusing dreams of Evan dumping her for Carol, who stood beside him gloating and laughing. Julie, like Alice in Wonderland, shrunk until they barely missed stepping on her as they walked out of Kathleen's living room.
She woke around seven to the sounds of the
boys running down the stairs to see if Santa had come. Michael's voice joined Drew's as they hollered that the milk and cookies were gone. Santa had come, and placed lots of gifts under the tree for them. "Can we open them, please mom?"
Kathleen's stern, "Not until after breakfast."
A pouting "Ohhh."
"I've got cinnamon biscuits, egg and sausage biscuits, potato nuggets, and gingerbread chocolate chip cookies, all baking in the oven," Kathleen announced.
A combined "Yeaaa!"
Julie rose from bed. That's what she'd missed as an only child growing up in a dysfunctional home with no father, no siblings, and an overprotective, fearful, embittered mother afraid of change.
Kathleen knocked on the door. "Julie, are you up? Breakfast is ready. No need to dress. There's a robe and slippers in the closet. We don't usually dress before opening the presents and clearing away all the mess of torn paper and boxes. If we like any clothing gifts, we can wear them the same day."
"I'm up, Kathleen. I'll be right down."
Julie came down wearing the one-size-fits-all plaid robe tied at the waist, and the pair of backless slippers. She found the whole family seated at the kitchen table, place settings at the ready. The half-gallon pitcher of orange juice and a milk carton, festive Christmas napkins, and smiling faces, all combined to create a hearty breakfast.
When all had eaten their fill, she helped Kathleen clear the table and put the soiled dishes into the dishwasher.
"We can leave the rest of the cleanup for later," Kathleen said. "There will be plenty more dirty dishes coming. Come on, let's go join the family."
"Evan hasn't called," Julie asked.
"No. Not yet. But I'm sure he will."
By the time all the gifts were opened, Julie realized Kathleen hadn't been kidding about the cacophony of torn wrapping paper and boxes, even with two extra-large garbage bags used to control the mess. Among her own generous pile of gifts, were a beautiful dark blue knit v-neck pullover, a pair of jeans, a pair of sneakers, and a fifty-dollar gift card. Julie never expected all this. She was glad not to have stinted in her gifts to the family. Along with a lacy ruffled scarf, Evan and Kathleen's parents' hug and good wishes, had warmed her to the core.
"If you're wondering how fortunate to receive a full change of clothing for today," Kathleen said, "I planned it that way. When you told me your Mom had other plans for Christmas, I wanted you to stay over for Christmas Day itself."
Julie smiled appreciatively. "That was very thoughtful of you. I wish I'd had a sister like you."
Kathleen nodded. It felt to Julie that Kathleen had been about to say something more, but held back. Instead she advised everyone to go back upstairs and dress for a casual day of just "hanging around, enjoying games, building a snowman with the snow that had accumulated overnight, and preparing for a large baked ham dinner with all the trimmings, along with apple and pumpkin pies and ice cream for dessert."
Bill added with a serious face, "She also has alka seltzer and antacid mints at the ready."
Kathleen screwed up her face. "Ha-Ha," she chastened, her chin rising prettily.
He threw her a kiss.
They ate dinner in the dining room, the most elegant room in the house. It would have been a perfect day if Evan had been there. But by the end of dinner, Julie asked Kathleen for the railroad's telephone number to ascertain the train schedule for her return trip to New York.
"Bill will drive you home," Kathleen insisted.
"No, absolutely not. It's not a long trip. If I catch the right train, I should be home in time for my favorite television show."
Again, it felt as though Kathleen wanted to say more, but held back. Instead, she sighed, "All right, I'll call the railroad and get you the schedule." She turned toward the kitchen and the landline on the counter. The doorbell rang, insistently. "All right, I'm coming," she answered annoyed, turning back clumsily. "I'm coming," she repeated.
"I'll get it," Julie said, and hurried to the small foyer.
Out of habit after living the past few years in the city, she asked, before opening the door, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Evan."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Her breath threatened to fail and she took a moment to quell her emotional upheaval. She forced herself to take a deep breath, and employ a calming exercise she had learned as a child. Imagine all the stress draining from you and the earth absorbing it and diffusing it.
Feeling calmer, she opened the door, and as she glimpsed his haggard semblance, compassion kicked in. "Are you all right?" she asked, reaching to clasp his free arm. In the other, he held a wrapped gift box, the kind used for a book or a folded scarf. He looked about ready to fall down.
Evan straightened his shoulders, his attempt to gather his strength clearly discernible. "I'm fine. A lot of traffic. I wanted to return before ... everyone went home."
"I ... we were all worried about you. You left so unexpectedly and never called."
Kathleen had approached behind her. "He did call, last night and this morning."
Evan quickly added, "Yes, and I asked Kathleen not to tell you until I could make my explanation in person, not over the phone."
Julie glanced askance behind her at Kathleen.
"I'm sorry, sweetie. I wanted to tell you, but he made me give him my word I'd wait until he arrived."
Evan said, "And I would have gotten here sooner, if Carol's parents hadn't insisted I get a few hours rest before heading back. Then, I ran into all the holiday traffic. My worst fear was that if I speeded, I'd either get stopped by traffic officer, or have an accident, hurt someone, and never get back to you." His words had rushed from his lips, totally disrupting his usual calm, steady self.
"Evan, all that matters to me is that you're back safely." She drew him into the foyer, turning to Kathleen. "He's exhausted. He needs to rest. And something to eat, something warm to drink."
Kathleen agreed. "Yes, he does. Julie, would you mind taking him into the kitchen and making him a hot toddy?”
Julie nodded. "Of course." Like he'd often done with her these past few months, she offered her arm to support him. He was that exhausted not to refuse and let her lead him to the kitchen table. He sank tiredly into the chair. "Thanks, Julie. I know I acted rashly and I felt ashamed. I could imagine what you were thinking. But—"
"Rest first. Explanations later," Julie advised, placing a glass mug in front of him with a black tea bag and a metal teaspoon inside, and followed with the steaming water from the enameled teapot that Kathleen kept simmering on low heat on the stove. The metal teaspoon absorbed some of the excessive heat of the boiling water to avoid the glass cracking.
Earlier she had helped Kathleen set up liquor bottles on the buffet in the dining room for before and after dinner drinks. She opened the cabinet containing the small assortment of the liquor and turned to Evan. "What's your preference?
"Scotch," Evan said, smiling.
She poured a little into his mug. "Want it sweetened with sugar and cinnamon?"
He nodded. She added both and stirred the hot liquid.
She took the seat opposite him and watched him nurse the mug in both hands, warming his fingers and inhaling the hot steam while the toddy cooled enough for him to sip. The hot beverage did the trick and some of the haggardness left his face. The paleness on his face turned ruddy and the stiffness brought on by the long hours in the car, eased. "I think the hot toddy is helping," she said.
Julie remembered her gift. Just the thing to enliven his spirit. "I have something for you," she said, rising.
He reached out. "No, not yet. Sit. I need to talk to you."
No doubt, he needs to tell me I don't misread his friendship for more than it is. He doesn't need another Carol. "Evan, don't worry, I know I'm only a good friend to you. And I don't expect more. I'm grateful for all the kindness you've shown me."
He surprised her with a chuckle. "Julie, you're making it really hard for me."
"No, Evan, y
ou mustn't feel that way. You can't help it if you're the kind of man that makes it easy to fall in love with."
He paused, contemplating her words. Then, he asked, "Julie, are you in love with me?"
It frightened her to answer. The truth might push his friendship away. But the truth might be best for both of them.
"Evan, don't take it the wrong way. I don't want to lose your friendship. But at the same time, I don't expect anything more, not like Carol.
"You haven't answered my question," he said.
Yes, the truth might be best for both of them. Better to end it now, before the hurt grew unbearable. Once, at home, she could grieve privately, and learn to live without his closeness.
"All right. Yes, Evan, I'm in love with you. I fell in love with years ago, when you first showed me kindness in school, when I was known as Miss Twisty Piggy Tails."
He chuckled at the memory. Julie bowed her head shamefaced.
"Oh, Julie, I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. I was just remembering how immature and stupid the frightened selfish young can often be. You were never Miss Twisty Piggy Tails to me. Rather the diamond in the rough both inside and out. You must have guessed I intended asking you out. But I was young and under my parents' guardianship. When they moved, I had no choice but to go with them. And you and I had no history to fall back on. "But, dear Julie, I never forgot you. You were always there at the back of my mind and in my dreams."
He stood up and came around the table. When Carol came into my life, she wasn't quite so uppity at that time, and we became friends. She made it clear in the beginning that she wanted more than friendship from me. And I'll admit, I-I considered that possibility. But it never came to that. There was never anything between us, at least on my part, but a close friendship between myself and her and our families, since her mother and mine both lived on the Island and knew each other as teens. That's all there ever was between us — good company, nothing ever intimate. I swear it, Julie, on everything that's sacred to us."