by Susan Page Davis, Darlene Franklin, Janelle Mowery, Lynette Sowell
“Okay. For a little while. But then I’ll get back here and start transposing if Jayne hasn’t found a singer.”
Chapter 3
I’m fine, I tell ya. Just fine.” But Armand’s voice shook as he sat on the wooden bench by the Barncastles’ frozen pond. “I only slipped. The kids have slipped dozens of times and you don’t have them propped up on a bench.”
“All the same, sir, I need to check your ankle.” Sean glanced toward the pond, where just minutes ago, they’d been playing hockey, of sorts, with sticks, as they knocked a puck back and forth.
The children loved it. Armand’s great-grandchildren, along with Jayne and Luke Gilbert’s son, Andy, giggled and laughed, their cheeks red, as Sean showed them how to pass the puck to each other.
Even Marcella showed up to skate, although she looked as if her thoughts were somewhere else, far away.
But now the little group gathered close to watch him examine Armand’s ankle.
“Is Pepé going to be all right?” asked Jade, Amity’s daughter.
“He’s going to be just fine,” said Sean. He winked at Jade, all of seven, who giggled and leaned on her mother. Sean assessed Armand’s ankle. It was swelling already and would probably turn several colors of the rainbow. Hard to tell by the feel if there was a fracture, though. “We should probably get this X-rayed.”
Armand was a diabetic, and he complained sometimes of numbness in his feet. It wouldn’t be good if the man had a fracture he didn’t know about.
“I’ll stay with the kids while you three go see about that X-ray,” said Amity. She gave her sister a pointed look.
Marcella’s cheeks shot with pink, but she returned her sister’s look with her own snappy glare. “Thanks, sister.”
“Anytime. After all, you’re my devoted sister.” Amity sang the last few words.
“Ha,” said Marcella. Except, she wasn’t laughing.
Sean tried to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching. “I’ll find out from Jayne where the nearest healthcare facility is and hopefully we’ll get in and out.”
“Pepé, can you walk?” Marcella stepped closer to Armand.
“I can walk, just hurts on my right leg.” Armand reached for Sean’s arm to pull himself up, then put one arm around Sean and Marcella, who moved to Armand’s other side.
“It seems like it’s a longer walk to the main house on the way back,” said Marcella.
“That’s the truth.” Sean tightened his grip on Armand’s waist, and felt Marcella’s strong arm holding her grandfather as well.
“Something on your mind, Cellie?” Armand asked his granddaughter.
“Pepé, you haven’t called me that since I was Jade’s age.”
“I can still see you when you were Jade’s age. And you’ve got something on your mind. I could tell when I went to the barn awhile ago.”
“We lost our male singer, Pepé.” Marcella sighed. “We don’t have our Bing now. The kid who was supposed to be Bing got strep throat.”
“Oh that’s too bad,” Armand replied. They helped him along the path, and the house grew closer. Sean took note of the man’s breathing. He still sounded okay. Good thing. Sean didn’t want Armand going into shock.
“Jayne’s trying to find someone else who can step in. I’m not sure if she’s found anyone. We go on tomorrow night. First performance.”
They inched closer to the edge of the parking lot ahead, with its row of cars, between the main house and the barn.
“I bet Sean could do the parts.”
“What?” Sean heard both himself, and Marcella, saying.
They both raised objections the rest of the way to Sean’s car. Sean popped the door locks and helped Armand get settled, his leg stretched out across the backseat.
“Hold on. I’m sure Jayne has an ice pack somewhere in that big old house.” Sean also wanted to reassure Jayne about Armand’s condition and find out about any nearby clinics. Injuries like this weren’t to be taken lightly in a man Armand’s age, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to overblow the situation.
Singing? He didn’t want to talk about singing right now. He used to sing, a long time ago. After he finished his bachelor’s degree and then his physician assistant training, answering the call of Uncle Sam, he’d left music behind.
“I’ll be right back.” Sean hurried to the house. If he had any sense, he’d head back across the Vermont state line, back to Massachusetts, and Northampton. Tonight.
“Pepé, I appreciate your suggestion.” Marcella shut the car door, and fastened her seat belt. “But we need a singer. Nottrying to put Sean down or anything, but Amity and I don’t have time to train someone. What if he can’t sing?”
“Oh he can sing, all right,” Pepé said. “He sings in the shower, could wake the whole apartment building at 4 a.m. when he gets up for an early rotation at the hospital.”
“Singing in the shower is one thing. In front of people is another.” A thought struck her. “You know what? I should go look for Memé. Maybe she can ride with you and Sean to the clinic, or hospital, or wherever you’re heading. She knows all about your medications.”
“And so do I,” he snapped.
Marcella turned as far as the seat belt would allow her.
“I’m sorry.”
He leaned forward and touched her shoulder. “I know what you’re trying to do. You are a sweet, sweet girl to think of her old Pepé and Memé. But stop pushing. I’ve been stubborn a lot longer than you have. Same goes for your memé, too.”
“I want you both to be happy again, happy with each other. Together.”
“I am happy. I haven’t felt this good in years. Not counting my ankle, of course.”
Marcella sighed. That wasn’t what she meant. Not exactly. “I’m glad you’re doing so well.” Here came Sean, out to the car. She turned to face forward.
“I tell you what,” Pepé said. “I’ll sit with your memé at supper tonight. Maybe even have a little conversation if she won’t bite my head off.”
“You will?” Her heart gave a jump. “Just don’t take it personally if she’s grouchy. I know she misses you.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior. But I have one thing to ask of you.”
Oh boy. “What’s that?” She already knew.
“Let Sean sing with you. Please. He needs to be a part of this Christmas.”
Marcella turned at the tone in Pepé’s voice. “Okay, he can sing with us.”
Sean opened the driver’s side rear door. “Here’s an ice pack, Armand. Put that on your leg and try not to move too much.”
“You got it.” Pepé took the ice pack and tucked it around his ankle as Sean closed the door. He joined Marcella in front and slid behind the steering wheel. “Bennington County Hospital. We can get an X-ray there.”
They headed down the driveway, and Pepé piped right up. “Cellie here says you can sing with her.”
“Cellie, huh?” He cast a sideways glance at her before pulling onto Route 9. “What if I say no?”
“I—I guess I would have to say that’s all right. I’m learning people can’t be forced into doing things.” Marcella shrugged and studied the road ahead of them. They shot along the winding way, tall pines edging the two-lane road. Occasionally the trees would clear and Marcella glimpsed snow-covered mountains.
Now that she’d made the agreement with Pepé, she found herself wanting Sean to sing with her. His speaking voice had a nice enough tone. However, she’d watched enough American Idol auditions to know that just because someone’s speaking voice sounded nice, that didn’t mean they could carry a tune, or sing a duet, or understand theflow of music. The result could be downright painful.
“You gonna get my other ankle broken on the way to the hospital?” Pepé asked from the backseat. He thumped on Sean’s headrest.
“No worries, Armand.” Sean glanced at the rearview mirror. “And I doubt your ankle’s broken.”
Pepé muttered something, and Marcella s
tifled a laugh. Pepé growled a lot and that sometimes made people stay away from him. If Sean had taken Pepé in, that said a lot for the guy.
“So, um, Sean, will you at least consider singing with my sister and me?” She had to ask him plainly. “Amity and I could perform the duets, but I really wanted us to stay true to ‘White Christmas,’ especially the Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney duets. We’re sort of in a jam now.” Marcella made herself stop. She wouldn’t beg or plead. She knew how hard it was to coax a reluctant singer to try a few notes, especially kids in middle school.
“C’mon, McSweeney, it’s a few songs for a few nights,” Pepé said.
Sean kept driving, and Marcella let her gaze wander from the road to him. She cleared her throat. “I think … I think it would make Christmas even more special.”
“I’ll … I’ll think about it,” was all he said.
An hour later, Sean sat beside Marcella at the ER while Armand was back in X-ray. The intern on duty agreed with Sean, that he didn’t suspect a fracture, but an X-ray was the best way to find out for sure.
He sensed Marcella squirming on the inside while shepaged through a cooking magazine. Twice she looked at him, opened her mouth, then closed it again and went back to studying a page of recipes.
Four nights of performances, a few rehearsals of songs he knew by heart. No big deal. He hadn’t stood in front of anyone and sung in nearly a decade.
Marcella closed the magazine and placed it onto the coffee table in front of them. She pulled out her cell phone, touched the screen, then stuck it back into her purse.
“I never thought we’d end up here,” she finally said. She pulled some strands of hair over her ear, then fiddled with the cuffs on her coat. Then she settled back into the vinyl cushioned seat and crossed her legs.
“Me, too. Actually, I’m surprised your grandfather came without giving us much grief.”
“His ankle must really be hurting, then. I’m glad we came, though.” Marcella uncrossed her legs, then picked up her purse from the floor. “Sorry. I have a hard time sitting still without doing something with my hands. Maybe that’s why I love to play piano so much.”
“That’s okay. It doesn’t bother me any.” He studied her hands, with their long slender fingers. Manicured, but trimmed fingernails. “All right, I’ll sing with you. I, uh, happen to know the songs.”
“Oh, thank you.” Marcella grabbed his arm and beamed. “You know the songs?”
He nodded, taking in the sight of her blue eyes sparkling. “I’ve watched White Christmas every year since I was old enough to use the remote.” He’d never seen light in her eyes like that before. Until now, he’d seen a frown wrinkle between her eyes. She still clutched his arm.
“Thank you. Really. It means a lot. I know you care about Pepé. Maybe this is a silly idea, doing the songs, but—” She released his arm and brushed at her eyes. “He’s old, Sean. Him slipping and falling today just shows me that we never know what’s going to happen. I really, really hope that this Christmas, he’ll see that his marriage to Memé is a treasure, and that she’ll let him back in. Literally, and figuratively. I always looked up to them, how good they were to each other and what good care they took of each other.”
Sean nodded. “I know I’ve only seen part of the story. But I hope you understand, Marcella, that I never once encouraged your pepé to move out. Whether your memé kicked him out, or whatever actually happened.”
“Either way, it’s a mess. Something I know my family never saw coming.”
“Families have an almost uncanny ability to hurt each other.” The words had a bitter taste as he spoke them. “That happens when you love someone and you’re vulnerable.”
“So, what about your family?” Marcella asked. “I realize I don’t know much about you, and here, you’re seeing our dirty laundry.”
He tried not to snort. “Your family is a stack of starched cotton linen shirts, neatly folded, compared to mine.”
“How’s that, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Sean shrugged. Now it was his turn to fidget, and he made himself stop. “Mom and Dad split up when I was seven. My brother Vance went with Dad to live near Boston, I stayed with Mom. Dad and Vance sort of do their own thing. They really don’t have the time to get together. Especially with Vance living in California now. And, Mom, well, she did the best she could. She lives in Easthampton.”
“Oh that’s close to where we live. I teach in Westfield, actually. Is she all alone at Christmas?” Marcella frowned. “Should we invite her to come up to Vermont and join us? Maybe I could talk to Jayne and see what we can work out. I know Jayne’s parents are here visiting, too, but in a house that size there ought to be spare room—”
“No, no.” Sean held up his hand. “My mom is fine by herself at Christmas. Really.”
“But you won’t see her on Christmas Day, and she’s so close.”
“I’m going to stop by Christmas night, on my way home from here. I’m due at 11 p.m. at the hospital.” He almost felt apologetic, but Marcella didn’t know his mother. Nurturing wasn’t a word in her vocabulary. Not like Mrs. Goudreau, anyway.
A door opened, and out came Armand in a wheelchair, pushed by a nurse. “You were right, Sean, m’boy. I didn’t break it. You should have gone to medical school.”
Sean tried not to sigh with relief at the interruption. Mom here at Christmas would be an absolute disaster. He couldn’t imagine what would happen.
Chapter 4
So, let’s start again from the beginning,” Amity said from where she sat at the keyboard. “Really listen to each other and try to blend at the chorus.”
Somehow Marcella had ended up on the barn’s stage next to Sean, and Amity was the one hogging the keyboard. The floorboards creaked under their feet. She’d pictured Sean standing beside the keyboard while she played the song. However, Amity insisted that Marcella and Sean would be able to blend better if they stood closer together. Blend, right.
The familiar notes of “Blessings” echoed off the barn walls. Sean more than knew the words to the song. He felt them, Marcella could tell, by the way he enunciated the words. A few tears burned her eyes. When he sang his part of the verse, Marcella watched. The man who spent so much time maintaining fortified walls around his life knew what it was like to lose sleep.
Of course, she should have known that from the first night at the inn, when she’d wandered into the dining room looking for a snack. She’d never asked about the source of his insomnia.
Now it was her turn to sing. She closed her eyes, thinking of counting sheep, and all the blessings in her life. Thank You, Lord. Even with what’s going on with Memé and Pepé, I thank You for everything You’ve given me. Us. My family. Sean.
Her eyes flew open.
The music stopped. “What’s wrong?” asked Amity.
Marcella glanced at Sean, then at her sister. “I got distracted. Sorry.” She rotated her neck, side to side, and swung her arms a little. “Whew, my muscles are tight.” She needed to take her own advice, advice she’d give her students, and tell them to relax, think about the song, and just … sing.
“We’ve been practicing since after breakfast,” Sean said. “I could use a break. Wanna go for a walk?”
“You mean me?” Marcella shifted on her feet.
“No, I mean the girl at the café in Castlebury that served me breakfast the other morning.”
“Huh?”
“Silly,” Amity chimed in. “He means you.”
“We really should practice…. We go on tonight. Jayne says the barn will be packed.”
Amity stood up from the keyboard. “Well, I’m taking a break. Pete and the kids and I are going to string popcorn for the little Christmas tree in the Library Suite, and make paper ornaments.”
“I guess we’re going for a walk.” Marcella reached in her pockets. No gloves. They were probably in her room, and she didn’t want to run inside for them.
“We can meet back here
after lunch,” Amity said. “Jayne is sending a hairstylist to do our hair around five o’clock.”
“C’mon,” said Sean. “See you around one, Amity.”
They ambled off together, and to Marcella, walking beside Sean seemed natural. Amazing, what two days could do to someone’s impression of a person. She would love toknow if he had a girlfriend. In the time they’d spent together, he’d never even hinted as such.
Usually a guy was quick to point out that he had a girlfriend, or fiancée, or someone special. Not Sean. He wasn’t quick to reveal much about himself anyway. Like the way he’d avoided talking about his family. What was the deal with that? Now he was smiling at her as he slid one of the barn doors open. “After you.”
“Thanks,” she said as she stepped onto the parking lot. She could feel Amity’s gaze boring into her. Her sister would definitely grill her tonight as they settled down in their room for the evening. Last night had been taken up by settling Pepé in and making him comfortable and Amity reading stories to Jade and Jeremy. But tonight after the show, girl talk.
“We can walk to the pond, if you’d like.” He paused by the inn’s steps. The sunlight glinted off his hair. “Or, if you’re game, we can try sledding.”
“Sledding. Really. I’m trying to loosen up, and you suggest sledding.”
“Well, it’s a little late to head for the slopes, and there are some perfectly good hills, and sleds right here at the inn.” Sean nudged her arm.
Who was this man? “Yes, and I could end up like Pepé, with a sprained ankle, and then where would we be?”
“You say you can’t sit still for long? I can’t stay inside for too long. I think there’s enough snow for us to do some sledding. Besides, I think sledding will loosen you up just fine.”
“I need to change clothes. I can’t wear this.” She gestured to her slacks and loafers.
“Fine. I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes.”
“You got it.”
They both entered the inn together. Pepé waved at them from the front parlor.