Lillian stared at him in disbelief, then sat down in an armchair, wondering what to do. Try again to persuade him? Use some other tactic? He did have a cast on one arm, and on a leg, too. And he was recovering from a heart attack. Maybe he did need to remain housebound a little longer. Lillian wasn’t sure she should push him.
But she couldn’t face the party without Ezra. Then she would really feel shunted off to a corner.
“Mrs. Elliot, why don’t you both have Christmas Eve dinner with us? My mother is cooking a wonderful meal. There’s plenty,” Estrella said. “It will be a small way for us to say thank you.”
Lillian was surprised by the invitation. She hadn’t even thought of it. Ezra looked surprised, too . . . and pleased. He sat up, suddenly finding a burst of energy.
“There’s an idea. What a lovely invitation.” He looked over at Lillian. “What do you say, Lily? Why don’t we stay here and celebrate with the Salazars?”
Because that’s the last thing in the world I wanted to do when I got up this morning, she nearly snapped at him. But she counted to five and held her tongue.
“I don’t want to go to Jessica’s house without you,” she said at last. “So I suppose that’s what we’ll have to do.”
She knew she sounded ungracious, but there was no sense in putting a false face on it.
“We’d be delighted to join you, Estrella. Thank you so much for including us,” Ezra said, quickly smoothing over her rudeness.
Estrella seemed pleased. “Very good, Dr. Ezra. I’ll go tell my mother. She’ll be so happy to cook for you.”
Estrella headed for the kitchen, and Lillian released a sigh.
“I wonder what she’s making. It sure smells good,” Ezra said happily.
Lillian had to admit it did smell flavorful. But foreign foods did not agree with her digestion. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to eat a bite. Maybe a little rice. If that wasn’t spiced to high heaven, too.
My, my. What a Christmas this is shaping up to be.
* * *
LILLIAN WAS AWAKENED BY A SHRIEK. IT SOUNDED AS IF A BIRD HAD gotten into the house, but she knew it was probably just the little girl, Marta. The shrill note was soon followed by the sound of footsteps galloping down two flights of stairs from the third floor.
She rolled over and checked the clock. Barely seven a.m., which was much earlier than she wanted to get up this morning. Last night’s Salvadorean Christmas festival had knocked her out. The food had been quite heavy and, as she could have predicted, she had indigestion. Turkey tamales turned out to be meat pies, steamed in a doughy corn pastry, wrapped in banana leaves, of all things, then smothered by some sort of tomato sauce. She had picked through the dough to find some turkey meat, olives, chickpeas, and other ingredients, none to her liking. There had also been a passable shrimp dish and even roast pork, plus vegetables and salad and lots of rice, cooked in a big casserole.
Ezra had been in his glory. She hoped he wasn’t sick today, he’d eaten so well—sampling a portion of every dish and both desserts. She would have preferred it if the desserts had been served promptly, but first they had to play their music. The children danced quite wildly. Estrella and Bonita danced, too. Ezra wanted to dance, but with his casts on, he could only stand on his crutches and tap a rhythm on the table. Luckily all that wildness took place in the kitchen, where they couldn’t break anything.
Finally the sweets were served, and she was able to get some nourishment. A decent rice pudding appeared, and something Bonita called ayote en miel: pumpkin cooked with honey and brown sugar.
After that Lillian headed for bed. The rest were staying up until midnight to put the infant Jesus figure in his cradle in the crèche scene. She told them where she had saved it but didn’t feel the need to do the honors herself.
The children were going to open one present each, knowing there would be more in the morning.
Well, morning had come, and they were obviously stampeding downstairs to see what Santa had delivered. Lillian rolled over and closed her eyes. She was just drifting off again when she heard Estrella and Bonita heading downstairs as well, speaking in Spanish. Quietly, she had to grant, but she could still hear them.
She pulled the quilt up over her shoulder. Let them have their Christmas morning mayhem. She didn’t need to be drowned in wrapping paper. She hadn’t thought to buy them anything either, she realized, feeling a little pang of guilt.
She closed her eyes and allowed sleep to overtake her once more. She had nearly drifted off, too, when Ezra’s voice over the infernal intercom roused her. “Lily? Aren’t you coming down? Everyone is waiting for you.”
She sat up and grabbed the monitor, practically shouting back into it. “Waiting for me? Why in heaven’s name are you doing that? You don’t need me to open the presents.”
“Yes, we do,” Ezra insisted. “The children are being very patient. I hate to see them wait so long, Lily. Please come down. Right away.”
Lily wanted to refuse, then felt her stomach rumbling with heartburn. She needed some antacids anyway. She may as well go down, she reasoned.
It took her a few minutes to get her robe and slippers on and make her way down with her cane. She didn’t rush herself. If they wanted her so badly, they could wait. When she finally entered the living room, the children cheered. Well, that was a surprise.
“I’m here,” she snapped. “What’s all the fuss?”
“It’s Christmas, Lily. We all want to see what Santa brought. I’m sure there’re a few things for you under there,” Ezra teased her.
She gave him a look. “I need something for my stomach. You can all go at it if you like.”
“Is your stomach bothering you, Mrs. Elliot? I will get you some antacid pills and some water,” Estrella offered.
“All right, if you wish,” Lillian grumbled, and sat in an armchair near Ezra.
“Mama, can we open our gifts now?” Jorge asked her.
Estrella glanced at him as she left the room. “Yes, one each until I come back,” she said.
The children dashed to the tree and looked over the boxes.
Marta picked up a big box and shook it. The contents made a muffled sound. Lillian guessed there was clothing inside. The little girl must have guessed the same and put down the box. Next, she picked up an oddly shaped package and when she shook it, there was a rattling sound. Probably a toy inside there, Lillian thought.
Once again, Marta’s gift radar was working and she quickly tore at the wrapping paper just as her mother returned to the room.
She had barely gotten half the paper off when she emitted her trademark shriek of glee. “Mama! Look . . . look what Santa brought me! Serena Rock Star!”
She ran to Estrella with the half-wrapped package. It seemed to be a large doll that came with a plastic electric guitar and all sorts of accessories.
Lillian chewed her heartburn pills, hoping that the plastic guitar didn’t actually play music.
“Oh my goodness . . . just what you wanted. How did Santa know?” Estrella helped her daughter take off the rest of the paper. The doll had a shock of bright pink hair and an outfit to match. Marta hugged it tightly. “I love her.”
Ezra laughed. “Oh, she’s quite something,” he agreed.
Jorge had opened his gift. A soccer ball and a sports jersey, which he unfolded and held up for all to see. “Wow, this is so cool! Brazil, my favorite team.”
“I’m glad you like it, son. That one is from Mrs. Elliot and myself,” Ezra said.
Lillian glanced at him. She suspected that many other boxes under there were from Ezra as well. She knew how he loved to play Santa Claus.
The rock star doll and soccer ball were just the beginning. There were several other toys, books, and board games. Sweaters, hats, and warm jackets. Many of these gifts had been purchased by Estrella, of course. But there were gifts for Estrella and Bonita, too. The tags were signed from Lillian and Ezra, though Lillian knew she’d had nothing to do with it. Ther
e were also bottles of a very good perfume and gift certificates to a nearby department store. Lillian thought that was a good solution. All Ezra’s doing, obviously.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Elliot! And Dr. Ezra,” Estrella added, glancing at each of them. “So generous of you.”
Bonita looked very pleased after opening her gift, too. “¡Muchas gracias!” she said.
“You’re very welcome. Enjoy,” Ezra said happily. “It was nothing, really.”
“You’re quite welcome,” Lillian replied. She could just imagine the size of the gift certificates Ezra had chosen. Enough for them to each buy a new wardrobe, probably. He loved to give presents. Well, they did need new things due to the flood, the adults as much as the children.
The Salazars had put gifts for herself and Ezra under the tree, as well. Lillian found a beautiful pair of leather gloves in her package. Very good quality, too, she noticed.
“These are very nice. How thoughtful of you,” she told Estrella. “I was only saying the other day that I must have lost one of my gloves at the doctor’s office. The receptionist said she didn’t find it.”
“Yes, I know, Mrs. Elliot. I heard you telling Dr. Ezra. That’s how I knew you needed them.”
Lillian met her glance. “Well, it was very thoughtful. Thank you.”
Ezra received a book he wanted—Estrella had noticed a review he’d cut out from the Globe—and the children gave him a new pair of slippers.
All the while that gifts were being unwrapped and admired, Bonita had been in and out of the living room. As the children picked up the bits of wrapping paper and stuffed them in a plastic trash bag, Estrella announced that breakfast was ready in the kitchen. Bonita had been cooking it.
Ezra glanced at Lillian. “Ready for some breakfast, Lily? I could do with a bit more of that rice pudding we had last night.” He patted his stomach, making the children laugh. “¡Mucho bueno!”
“For breakfast, Ezra? You must be kidding.”
“But it’s Christmas, Lily. Didn’t you notice?”
“Believe me, I noticed. It’s been impossible to avoid it around here this year.”
Ezra laughed at her. “Yes, I must agree; and just as it should be, too.”
Lillian did not agree with that assertion. She still maintained that she should be able to observe the holidays the way she preferred, in a quiet, decorous, dignified manner. Not with all this fuss and noise and rich food.
Well, that wasn’t to be this year. All she could do now was wait it out. It had to be over soon, didn’t it?
* * *
THE FAMILY CHRISTMAS EVE PARTY AT AUNT JESSICA AND UNCLE Sam’s house went on until after midnight, as usual. Amanda was sure she would be too tired to get up for church the next day, but knew that she had no choice. Luckily, Betty—known around the house as the human alarm clock—was up even earlier than usual, with enough Christmas spirit for the entire family.
She stood by Amanda’s bed and shook her shoulder. “Manda, Santa came. Wake up! We have to go open our presents.”
Amanda opened her eyes to see Betty’s adorable face glowing with excitement. She realized that even at the ripe old age of twenty-five, Christmas morning was still a thrill.
“Okay, Squirt, lead the way. I’m right behind you,” she promised her little sister in a sleepy voice.
Betty had already alerted the rest of the family, and Amanda joined them around the Christmas tree. Her father was giving out the gifts while her mother brought in a tray with coffee and croissants. Amanda managed to open most of her gifts and enjoy the Christmas morning family rituals before it was time for her to shower and dress for church. She had to get there before her family for a quick rehearsal with the choir.
“I hope we’ll be singing ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’ today,” her mother said just as she left the house. “You know it’s my favorite.”
“I’ve asked Reverend Ben to include it just for you, Mom,” Amanda replied as she flipped a bright new striped scarf around her neck, a gift from Jill.
“Thank you, dear. I’ll be singing it loud and clear.”
Amanda didn’t doubt that for a moment. Her mother had a very strong voice when she really liked a song. Amanda had thought of encouraging her to join the choir, then thought better of it. Molly would not be easy to manage.
Amanda soon found that the exciting feeling of Christmas Day was in the air at church as well. The sanctuary was decorated with rows and rows of red and white poinsettias, garlands of fresh pine branches, and glowing candles on the altar. It was a beautiful scene, made even lovelier by the stained-glass windows. Set back by the storm, Gabriel had not quite completed the job, but for the most part, the windows sparkled again with jewel-like colors, filtering the light of Christmas morning. Amanda knew she had to tell him what a wonderful job he had done. Her gaze was drawn to the Nativity scene, the window now whole again, showing the Christ child in the manger.
The beautifully crafted scene had a new meaning for her this morning. Just like the window, she, too, had been restored these last few weeks. Her innate sparkle and colors were shining through again.
Coming back home, she had somehow turned a page in her life; she had been renewed by this job and by living at home with her family again. It had not been a defeat after all, but a blessing to come back here. She once again believed that the world held infinite possibilities for her and knew it had been wrong to give in to despair. It was wrong to lose faith in herself . . . and in God’s plan for her.
Maybe that’s what Christmas was about in a way—the blessed Christ child, symbolic of the new start that was possible for everyone, at any moment, if you held fast to faith and believed it could be.
“Amanda, there you are. Merry Christmas!” Amanda turned to see Reverend Ben bustling toward her down the center aisle of the sanctuary. He was already dressed in his white cassock.
“Merry Christmas, Reverend Ben,” Amanda replied.
“I believe most of the choir is here already, donning their robes. Right on time, too,” he said, checking his watch.
“We’ll have a quick rehearsal,” Amanda replied. “But we worked very hard this week. I think everyone knows their parts.”
“I’m sure they do. It is Christmas. The music is so familiar, everyone just sits back and enjoys it.”
Amanda knew that was true. She felt surprisingly relaxed, as if nothing could go wrong, despite her considerable responsibility. It was one of the most important days in the church calendar, and definitely the most important musically. But she felt very sure in her heart that the service would go well and the choir would sound wonderful—as if some greater power were helping her.
The time for despair had passed. It was a bright new day, time to herald the newborn King.
Chapter Thirteen
THE CHOIR MARCHED INTO THE SANCTUARY AT A STATELY PACE, singing “Joy to the World” with a solid, full sound. Reverend Ben followed, wearing his beautiful gold-and-white mantle, which was reserved for Christmas. Amanda accompanied on the organ, playing with all her might. It was a dramatic and uplifting start, she thought, and one of her very favorite hymns.
Their well-rehearsed voices rose clear and pure as the organ notes rippled and echoed. “Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth its praises bring.”
After the first verse, the basses and altos split from the sopranos and tenors, and the two groups sang the chorus in rounds.
“. . . and heaven and nature sing . . . and heaven and nature sing . . .
“. . . and heaven, and heaven and na–ture . . . sing!”
Amanda glanced at the choir members as they finished the carol with spirit, striking every note perfectly. Their eyes and faces were glowing. They had put their hearts and spirits into the carol, and she felt moved by their energy. She knew the congregation felt it, too.
Reverend Ben beamed as he stood before the altar and greeted the congregation. It was, predictably, a very full house today, with every seat occupied, and even a f
ew rows of folding chairs at the back of the sanctuary.
“Merry Christmas, everyone, and welcome! Let us gather in prayer this glorious morning to celebrate the humble birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ.
“God of light, we thank You for giving us the gift of Jesus Christ. We come before You with wonder and delight that You come to us in the child born in a manger. Be with us on this day of birth and rebirth. Come, honor us with the presence of Your gracious, joyful Spirit. Fill our weary hearts with renewed hope and joy. Rekindle in our souls the light of Christ. Glory to You in the highest, O God, glory in the highest! Amen.”
A scripture reading from the Book of Hebrews followed Reverend Ben’s opening prayer. It was soon time to sing her mother’s favorite, “O Come, All Ye Faithful.” Luckily, this was a hymn for everyone to sing. Amanda knew her mother would have sung it anyway, sitting out there in the second or third pew back from the front, beaming at her like a miniature Christmas tree.
Everyone rose with their hymnals as Amanda struck the opening chords on the piano, and the choir led the congregation along.
“O Come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant. Come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem . . . Come and behold Him, born the King of angels . . .”
Everyone sang with full voices and great spirit and if a few in the pews were off-key, or not quite in rhythm, they blended in perfectly as the great wave of voices rose higher and higher. It was all about the feeling of joy this morning, Amanda realized, not the technical excellence. And the feelings were strong and true, overflowing with the spirit of Christmas.
“O come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him . . . Christ the Lord . . .”
It was soon time for the second reading, from the Gospel of John. “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen His glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
Reverend Ben chose the many lights of Christmas as the theme for his sermon—lights on trees and decorations. The candles glowing in windows and up on the altar this morning. He recalled the star that guided the shepherds and wise men to the baby born in the manger.
Songs of Christmas Page 24