by Anne Carol
“No. Don’t you dare.” He chuckled. “I love getting your letters. I’m trying hard to keep up, but—”
“But nothing. I know you don’t have time to write me every day, so I don’t expect you to.” He was working a lot at the record shop, plus performing with his band and shopping record labels. I honestly didn’t think he was home much.
“I think about you all the time, though.”
“I know you do.” But I still missed his physical presence terribly.
The ache in my chest grew heavier as we moved into the holiday season. I tried to keep a chipper attitude on Thanksgiving Day, which we spent at my grandparents’ house, but my eyes must have revealed my melancholy.
“You miss David, don’t you?” Grandma Claire whispered as we sat on the couch after supper.
“Yes, so much.” I glanced sideways at her, unable to hide my frown.
“Ah, honey. I remember how hard it was being away from Grandpa before he moved out to California. Those were long, miserable months. We’d write each other the longest letters. When he came to visit me for my birthday, I thought my heart would beat right out of my chest.” She wore a faraway look.
I smiled at the thought of my grandparents as young adults embracing in the train station after a long separation. It was hard for me to imagine a time when they weren’t married, and I idly wondered if someday my grandchildren would think the same thing about David and me.
“Follow me, dear.” Grandma’s voice broke through my daydream. She got up from the sofa and gently tugged on my arm.
“What? Where are we going?”
“Just come along.” She led me back to her room and instructed me to sit on the bed.
She went to her stuffed closet and poked around. “I was going to wait a little longer, but I think you need this now. It’s time.”
“O-kay,” I said, perplexed.
“Here we are.” She grabbed something off one of the shelves and shut the door. When she turned around, I found her holding a gift-wrapped rectangular box. The red wrapping paper was decorated with little snowmen and adorned with a shiny green ribbon. Before I could ask what it was, she handed me the gift.
“Go ahead, open it,” Grandma insisted.
“Shouldn’t I wait for Christmas?” I asked, feeling guilty.
“No, no, this can’t wait. You should really open it now.”
Twisting the corner of my mouth and raising my eyes to the ceiling, I mumbled, “Well, it’s too small for David to be hiding inside.”
She gave me a big smile, so I could tell she was excited about whatever it was. Now even more curious, I slowly untied the bow and began unwrapping the paper. It’s probably just a pretty winter sweater. Grandma knows the affect new clothes can have on me.
Removing the lid from the white cardboard box, I found a beautiful red knit scarf, appearing almost too warm for our mild California winters.
“It’s gorgeous!” I cried, still confused as to why she was giving me an early present. Then, as I bundled the scarf in my hands, feeling the soft material, I slowly lifted it out of the box. Hiding underneath I discovered something else, clearly my real gift, and suddenly I understood. Shocked beyond belief, I picked up the second gift and took a closer look at it. My breath caught, and I gasped loudly.
“No way!”
Overcome with emotion, I let out a squeal and hugged my grandma. “Thank you, Grandma! Thank you.”
Running into the front room, I waved the incredible gift in my hand. “How long have you all been keeping this a secret?”
They were all congregated around the fireplace: my parents, grandfather, and Rachel.
My mom stared wide-eyed at me and then cracked a huge smile. “A little while. So Grandma decided it was time?”
“Look at her, Sharon.” Grandma pointed to my beaming face. “She’s so much happier than when you folks got here.”
“It’s nice to see her this happy,” Dad declared as he regarded me.
“Yeah, all I’ve seen her do since I got home is mope around and write letters,” Rachel added.
“Thanks for the support,” I answered snidely.
“Just being honest.”
“Well, I miss him,” I said defensively.
“And soon enough, you’ll get to see him again,” Mom interjected.
“Yeah …” I said, studying the airline tickets again. “So I leave Christmas Day? How’s that going to work?”
“Well, you don’t leave until evening, so we’ll still have time to attend church and have a quick family brunch afterward. Uncle Ned will pick you up on the other end and you’ll stay with them until you leave January second.”
“So, I get to be there for New Year’s? Oh, this is so cool.” I get to kiss David on New Year’s Eve!
“Now you’re there for reasons other than David,” Mom pointed out. “Dad and I thought it was important for you to visit London in wintertime as well as have a chance to visit a few universities before you settle on moving there. Bottom line, we want you to use this visit to make absolutely sure this is what you want, without a doubt. This is a huge decision.”
“I know, I know. And I think it’s a great idea.” So great that I could hardly settle my wildly beating heart. “So I’ll get to see some colleges?”
“Uncle Ned will take you around, yes.”
Grandpa perked up. “You’ll get to see where your grandfather taught.”
“I know; I’ve heard it’s a great university!” I grinned.
“Of course it is! I would’ve stayed longer if your grandmother hadn’t wooed me away.”
I shook my head. “Oh, Grandpa.”
“London?” Susie cried, in reaction to my news. “How lucky are you!”
We were sitting in my room listening to records and catching up on homework the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Melissa was visiting relatives out of town so it was just the two of us.
“Yeah, I was so surprised. I can’t believe this is happening. I mean, my parents actually support my going to college there, that’s what’s amazing.”
“That’s pretty great. I don’t know if my parents would let me do something like that.”
“Kind of helps that I have family over there. Plus …”
“What?”
“Look, David’s going to be a part of my life, no matter what, and my parents really want me to go to college. So even if it’s in London, they’ll make sure I’m set up to finish my education. But honestly, I know they aren’t crazy about me uprooting myself.”
“Is David planning to go to college?”
Her question threw me.
“I don’t know. I kind of doubt it. He’s pretty hung up on his music right now.”
“And how’s that going?”
“Still trying to get a record label to sign them.”
She paused for a moment, looking hesitant.
“This is going to sound terrible, but what if it never works out? I mean, isn’t it really hard to make it in the music industry?”
“Yeah, it is, and that bothers me. I believe in him—he’s so talented—but I’m afraid he’ll end up disappointed someday.”
“So, he doesn’t have a backup plan that you know of?”
“Just working at the record shop. Maybe he could be a guitar teacher.”
“Might be something to talk about when you’re there. Awkward, I know, but necessary if you’re planning a future with him.”
Susie brought up a concern I kept shoved in the back of my mind, for good reason. I didn’t want to consider the possibility that David’s hard work on his music would come to nothing. He was expecting the band to be his main career, and I couldn’t stand the idea of him feeling like a failure if it didn’t turn out well.
But I knew she was right. Having other options wasn’t negative thinking, it was just smart planning. I wondered if David’s parents had discussed any of this with him. If they did, he certainly didn’t tell me. Knowing him, it would’ve killed his pride, which me
ant I’d have to broach the subject delicately. And at the right time.
I didn’t think it was necessary to bring it up over the phone the next time we spoke. In fact, the only thing I wanted to talk about was my upcoming visit. Bursting with excitement, my big news flew out of my mouth the moment he said “hello.”
“I know, I can hardly wait,” he responded.
“What do you mean, you know?”
He chuckled. “Your cousin told me as soon as she found out.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“Well, no. It was a gift, right? I couldn’t spoil the surprise,” he said. “You know I won’t be able to leave you alone for a second.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want you all to myself, Mr. Somers.”
“Good. Then I think we have an agreement.”
From that moment on, all I wanted was for the time to pass quickly, and as December arrived, it seemed I got my wish. I went full speed the entire month, with loads of homework, holiday preparations, and extra babysitting to pay for gifts. Plus, Rachel came home a week before Christmas, so I was able to spend time with her before the holiday festivities took over. She and I stayed up till all hours talking about boyfriends, colleges, and life in general. I also picked her brain about what it was like living away from home.
“It’s hard at first, but since you love London and have a boyfriend and family support over there, you’ll adjust quickly. Just pick the right school. Don’t be pressured to go to North London University, even though our family has a history there. Choose the one that’s right for you.”
I took note of her advice. Honestly, our family alma mater was number one on my list because of the journalism program, but I did have a few other possibilities. This is how I’d spent my time when I was grounded in September, pouring over college materials while soaking in the tub. My experiences working on the school newspaper and on the literary society projects were helping me shape my goals for a writing career. I was grateful for that, since so many of my classmates were clueless as to their future aspirations.
Once Christmas Eve arrived, I became a nervous wreck. Too much was at stake. I worried that I would hate the winter climate in London, or that I wouldn’t find a college I liked. But my worst fear was that I’d get all the way there only to conclude that what David and I had was just a summer fling, that we weren’t compatible for a lifelong partnership. But I couldn’t let myself think that way.
I did my best to socialize with my relatives at our annual Christmas Eve dinner, which my Aunt Barbara customarily hosted. Volunteering to mash the potatoes and toss the salad helped to tame my nerves, which were now in overdrive. Mom even let me have a glass of wine with dinner, but despite that I still had huge butterflies in my stomach that nearly robbed me of my appetite.
“How are you feeling, dear?” Grandma Claire asked, seeing me pick at the last bits of turkey.
“I’m okay, Grandma. Just a little anxious.”
She patted my hand. “You’re going to have a lovely time, you’ll see.”
I hoped and prayed she was right. How could I not have a wonderful time when it’s all I’ve wanted for four months?
Not unexpectedly, I didn’t get much sleep that night. I got up several times to check that I’d packed everything. Finally, sometime early in the morning my tired body won out and I drifted off to sleep, tightly clutching David’s denim jacket.
Before my eyes even opened the next morning, I could hear the faint sound of a choir singing “Joy to the World.” Christmas was here, likely my last Christmas living at home. Rubbing the sleep from my eyelids, I slipped out of bed, still holding David’s jacket. I put the jacket down, threw my robe on, and shuffled out to the kitchen. My mom was already making breakfast as she hummed along to the choir music floating over the radio waves.
I paused on the threshold, taking a moment to watch my mom in her element. There was no guarantee I’d be coming home for the holidays next year, and I wanted to remember this morning forever.
But then the call of the coffee pot was too hard to ignore. I approached my mom and gave her a warm hug. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”
“Merry Christmas, darling daughter. How are you feeling this morning?”
I drew in a deep breath. “I’ve got some jitters, but I’m so excited. I can’t wait to see David tomorrow.”
“What about your cousin, aunt, and uncle?”
“Yeah, them too.” I grinned.
She rubbed my arm. “Why don’t you get your coffee and start gathering everyone around the tree?”
“Okay.”
Ten minutes later, the four of us were in the front room, which was aglow with Christmas tree lights and shiny tinsel. Old Christmas letters from our childhood were now standard decorations, as well as fading craft projects from our grade school days: drawings, popsicle-stick Christmas trees, and the like. Angelic choir music continued in the background as we began sorting out the gifts.
I always loved the assortment of packages surrounding the tree on Christmas morning. When I was much younger, I used to sneak into the room before anyone else was up and shake the boxes. The year my mom caught me—age six, I believe—I thought I was in so much trouble, but instead of getting angry, she let me open one gift. It was our little secret. A tiny lump formed in my throat as I realized I’d never be that little girl again.
“Wonder what Santa brought in our stockings?” Mom’s voice drew me back to present day. “Beth, why don’t you hand them out?”
Swallowing past the lump, I moved toward the stockings, which were stuffed full and lying flat in front of the fireplace. Mom always put practical items in our stockings, like toothpaste, toothbrushes, notepads, pencils, and my favorite, new socks. Dad filled Mom’s stocking and usually put in new perfume and a box of chocolates.
“Ooh, new nail polish. I love it!” Rachel declared as she fished through her stocking.
“Poetry?” I held up a small book I found in mine.
“Santa probably figured since you were in the literary society, you might enjoy a book of the classics,” Mom stated.
“Mm,” I said, thumbing through and seeing some familiar names: Yates, Cummings, Poe, and Dickinson. Need to add Somers, as in David Somers’ music lyrics, I thought to myself.
Our morning continued with light chatter and a few “oohs” and “ahhs” thrown in as we dove into our packages. The biggest reaction came from my mom when she opened Dad’s gift to her.
“Oh, Mike, it’s breathtaking! I’m going to wear it this morning,” she gushed, holding out a long red dress.
“Wow, Dad, you know how to pick ’em,” Rachel remarked.
“Yes, I do,” he said, gazing at Mom.
“Aww …” My sister and I said in unison. Mom just shook her head at us.
“Let’s get going so we can have breakfast and get to church on time,” she said, obviously anxious to try on that dress.
In the end, I came away with a few new record albums, several books, a couple of sweaters, and a box of stamps.
I chuckled. “Perfect, but I won’t need them this week,” I said, smiling.
A few minutes later, after my mom headed into the kitchen, Dad came and sat next to me. “How’s my girl doing? Are you ready for your trip?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“You’re going to have a great time, kiddo.”
“Yeah, I’m kinda jealous, except that Joey’s coming up to visit,” Rachel said, grinning.
“He is?” I asked.
“Yep, Joey has to pass the ‘parent test,’” Dad stated, looking at Rachel.
“Oh, Dad,” she said with an eye roll. “You’ll love him.”
“Food’s on!” Mom popped in from the kitchen.
“Ah, saved by the breakfast bell,” Dad said, getting up from his spot.
After a breakfast of egg casserole and coffee cake, a family tradition, we all got in our best church clothes and headed out into the cool, misty air.
/> The Christmas service was always my favorite, and today’s did not disappoint. Still humming carols, we arrived back to the house for a big family brunch. Though we had limited time to eat, my mom, aunt, and grandma still provided a huge spread of food. I tried to fill up, knowing airplane food was always a gamble. As I was finishing the final bites of my pumpkin pie, Mom tapped her watch and looked at me. I nodded, letting her know I was well aware of the time.
Standing in the airport terminal made my throat dry up. This was really happening; after four months of separation, I was going to see the love of my life. On the ride to the airport, I’d pictured different scenarios in my head of our long-awaited reunion. Uncle Ned said David would be at the house shortly after my arrival, giving me just enough time to freshen up after the long flight. I could hardly wait to see him.
“I suggest you try to sleep right away so you can get yourself on London time,” Mom said, her face looking increasingly ashen. “And eat whatever they serve you. I don’t want you starving when you get to Aunt Ellie’s.”
“Yes, Mom,” I vowed, glancing down to notice Mom wringing her hands. My dad, not missing her restlessness, calmly reached over and placed his hand on hers.
“She’ll be fine, honey. She’s a big girl.”
Mom’s uneasy state was rubbing off on me, so I decided to take a walk. It was getting close to boarding time anyway, and it was a good opportunity to make a final pit stop.
A few minutes later, as I was walking back to the seat, I noticed my parents huddled together, whispering intensely. Mom was obviously upset, and when I got closer, I overheard her. “Can’t you see, Mike? We’re going to lose her, and I’m not ready for that.”
Now in their line of sight, she quickly became silent, giving me a fake smile. She squeezed my arm as I sat down. “How are you feeling, dear?”
“I’m fine. Just ready to get on that plane.” I let out a long breath before continuing, “In case I haven’t told you enough, thank you for this trip. I love you both so much, I hope you know that.”
Before even finishing the sentence, the announcement came over the speaker that they were beginning the boarding process. My stomach tightened and I took another deep breath.