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Authors: Thomas Kinkade

Songs of Christmas (38 page)

BOOK: Songs of Christmas
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She had to be sure. “So you really weren’t trying to push me away?”

“That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

“And”—she hesitated, still uncertain—“you love me?”

“I love you,” he said. “But what kind of love would it be if I didn’t want you to be happy?”

“I am happy . . . now,” she said, realizing that she was so happy she was actually crying. She wiped away the tears. “So, tell me about these big changes. I want to hear everything.”

He smiled, his blue eyes looking even brighter. “Right after you left, Mayor Warwick brought me her mother’s lamp to repair. Tiffany-style, a real antique. The shade was smashed to bits, and her mother was very upset. I started piecing it together, following some traditional designs I researched with that book you gave me for Christmas. I couldn’t replicate the design exactly, but I did a pretty good job, and they were happy,” he reported. “It gave me an idea about starting a new business, producing lamps and windows that were my own designs. And pitching more of my original work for public works and churches. Like those door panels I’m making for the community center in Essex.”

“That’s fantastic!” she said. “I treasure the piece you gave me. It’s incredible. You have so much talent, Gabriel.”

“I hope so,” he said. “In any case, I should be able to get projects that are more challenging and creative. I spoke to a friend in Peabody, who has a bigger shop, set up for that sort of thing. I’m going to rent some space there and use some of his equipment. I probably won’t make much money at first. But I have to take this chance. That’s why I’m giving up the small shop, the one that was my father’s. That part is hard,” he admitted. “It really marks the end of something for me. But it marks a new beginning, too. And eventually, I’ll go back to school to finish my degree.”

“Wow. That is a lot of change. You’re launching off in a whole new direction.”

He shrugged and smiled. “I think it started with you, Amanda. You changed my life. Watching you pursue your goals, no matter what got in your way . . . Falling in love with you . . . Well, it made me look at my own life and my own plans. All the things I’ve put on hold, or maybe started to think I would never get to do.”

“What about your family? Don’t they still need your help?”

“I won’t be around as much, but Peabody’s only a half hour away. So they’re all for it. My mother says it’s time I stopped worrying about them and do what I need to do. She’s found a teaching job, so it’s perfect timing.” His tone was quiet and sure. “It’s been perfect timing meeting you. I can see that now. It’s like the pieces of a window, a large design that you can’t see when all the fragments are scattered. But little by little, it fits together perfectly.”

Amanda had to smile. “All part of a plan, you mean?”

He nodded and smiled at her. “Exactly.” Then his expression became more serious. “I’m not sure exactly how we’ll work it out. The logistics, I mean. I know you perform most weekends, but maybe I can drive up and visit you anyway or you could come down this way on your days off. And eventually,” he went on, smiling again, “we’ll find a way to live in the same town.” He kissed her again. “Hopefully, in the same house, as husband and wife.”

“We’ll find a way to make it work,” Amanda promised, her arms wrapped tight around him. Gabriel had been right. God had a plan for both of them, one that had brought them together, and would keep them together, always. His design was better than any she could ever have imagined for herself.

* * *

IT WAS PRACTICALLY EIGHT WEEKS TO THE DAY; EZRA’S CASTS ON HIS
arm and leg were finally removed. Dr. Newton gave him a clean bill of health and a prescription for physical therapy. It should have been a time for celebration around Lillian and Ezra’s house or, at least, a sip of sherry. It was Friday afternoon, the start of the weekend, after all. But Ezra was still in a blue mood, still angry with her about the way she had dismissed Estrella and her family.

Lillian thought he would have gotten over it by now. For goodness’ sake, the family had left on New Year’s Day and here it was, more than three weeks later, and he was still walking around with his chin dragging on the ground. Lillian was losing her patience but, of course, couldn’t say a thing. She was the villain in this piece. Never mind that those children had ripped her house apart. It was really so unfair. He couldn’t see it that way. And no one would take her side in this, especially not Emily, who had tried to play the peacemaker but finally gave up and drove the Salazars to a motel.

Emily had saved the pieces of the lamp and brought it all to a young man in town, a glass artisan. Lillian didn’t even know such people still existed. The beautiful glass shade would never be the same, but he had done some careful, creative work, following the original design. The lamp had lost all its worth, no question, but it sat once again in its post by the front door, like a wounded soldier of some unnamed war.

If only the rest of her life could fall back in order so easily. Mrs. Fallon was still needed by Holly and her grandchildren. No salvation from that front. The aides from some agency had been coming and going since Estrella had left. Ezra required less and less help, which was fortunate, considering that they were a parade of simpletons. But she held her tongue. Ezra didn’t need any more commotion to slow down his recovery.

Though his body had healed, his spirit seemed depleted. Nothing she did or said would distract him or shake him from this low mood.

* * *

ON SATURDAY NIGHT, LILLIAN AND EZRA WENT OUT FOR A BITE TO
eat at the Spoon Harbor Inn. The place had a somewhat formal atmosphere, which she preferred. She had held Jessica’s wedding here. It was a place that still took dining and service seriously.

“How is your bisque?” she asked Ezra, hoping to spark some conversation.

He looked up from his soup and nodded. “Passable,” he said. Then he added, “I’d like to go to church tomorrow, now that I can walk in on my own two feet again.”

A good sign,
she thought.
He’s finally coming around
.

“Good idea,” she said. “It’s been a while. Reverend Ben might not recognize us.”

“No chance of that. I’ve been attending for almost ninety years,” he said, dismissing her small attempt at humor.

True enough. She had been a member over fifty years herself, and Ezra had attended since he was a boy. “Who do you think holds the record as longest-running member of the congregation? It’s either you or Sophie Potter . . . or maybe Digger Hegman.”

Ezra started to take another spoonful of soup then pushed the bowl away. “I don’t know. What difference does it make?”

Lillian sat back. He used to enjoy working out these little queries with her. What difference did anything make? One could stamp that attitude universally. It would make for quite a boring existence.

Maybe the church service would snap him out of this, get him back to his good-natured self. They had not been to church since his calamitous fall, not even on Christmas. The weather was too cold and the walkways much too icy to chance it. Although Estrella and her family had attended the church on the green, on Ezra’s suggestion. Lillian thought Estrella might have even sought some assistance there after the storm.

Lillian had a sudden, anxious moment, wondering if she and Ezra would run into the Salazars on Sunday. But she brushed that aside. Most likely, they had left the area. Maybe they had gone to that relative in Andover or been set up in some emergency housing somewhere. Emily might be able to find out, though Lillian quickly decided not to ask her. Best not to stir up this pot again. It had hardly settled.

Estrella was an able and resilient person, no question about that. But she wouldn’t start attending our church, Lillian decided. She was much too proud . . .
A little like me,
she realized.

* * *

EMILY PICKED UP LILLIAN AND EZRA RIGHT ON TIME ON SUNDAY
morning. Lillian fussed over Ezra as they headed out. “It’s quite cold, please wear your muffler,” she said, holding it out to him.

“I’m fine, Lillian. That one irritates my skin.”

“It’s silk on this side. How can that scratch?”

“Let’s just go, please. I hate to be late.”

At least there was one thing they still agreed on.

The ride to church was blessedly brief. Lillian was glad of that. Dan dropped them off in the front of the church. and they proceeded slowly but surely to the big wooden doors.

Everyone made a fuss over Ezra from the moment he hobbled into the sanctuary. Their son-in-law Sam found them seats, front and center, in the pew she preferred. The new music director was playing the prelude, and many people came up to them to welcome Ezra back. Later in the service, during “Joys and Concerns,” Reverend Ben put Ezra in the spotlight again. “I’m sure that we’re all very pleased to see Dr. Elliot back with us, after his long recuperation.”

Ezra stood up in his seat and waved while everyone applauded. She had not received such a warm ovation after her illnesses, she realized. But still, this was a good thing for both of them. He did glow under all the attention. She hoped this spurt of good cheer would carry through at home and wasn’t just for the cameras.

There was a moment when Ezra’s expression turned dark again. Tucker Tulley asked for prayers for families displaced from the flood and storm damage. He was a police officer and saw all sorts of unpleasantness.

“It’s a little over a month now since the storm, and families are still hurting. It’s going to take a long time for many people to come back from this. I hope that we continue to keep the storm victims in our prayers and continue to reach out to help them.”

Of course, all Lillian could think of was Estrella’s family. She glanced at Ezra and knew he was thinking of them, too. What could they do about it now? God didn’t expect you to work miracles. That was His bailiwick.

The chorus led them in a hymn, distracting Lillian from thoughts of Estrella. She liked being among people, she realized, for a limited period of time. As long as she didn’t really have to speak to them. A church service was just right, she thought.

When the service ended, they followed Emily down the crowded center aisle and waited their turn to greet the minister.

“Ezra, Lillian, how good to see you both.” The reverend gave Ezra a hearty handshake. “It’s great to have you back. When did you get your casts off?”

“On Friday. My leg is a little weak,” Ezra admitted. “I have to use this cane awhile and have some physical therapy, but I should be tip-top by the spring.”

“Oh, much sooner than that, I expect,” Lillian said encouragingly.

“Well, it must have been hard to be housebound so long. I’m sorry I didn’t get to visit more often.” Reverend Ben had come to see them once or twice. It had been a respectful, though not overwhelming, amount of concern, she thought.

“That’s all right, Reverend. I appreciate the thought,” Ezra said. “I had plenty of attention and good care,” he added. Lillian lifted her chin, expecting her husband was about to praise her. “We hired a nurse, live-in. A lovely young woman,” Ezra continued. “Estrella was her name. I think she’s come here to church a few times over the holidays, with her children. Maybe you met her?”

“Estrella? . . . No, I don’t think so. So many families have visited since the storm and come for services during the holidays. We welcome them all, of course. But it’s hard to get everyone’s name.”

“Yes, of course. How could you possibly remember everyone?”

Lillian gave her husband a sharp look and tugged on his arm. “We are thankfully free of nurses and aides in our house right now. And very grateful for Ezra’s recovery.”

Ezra seemed about to say more, but instead quickly bid Reverend Ben a good day and allowed himself to be led out of the church and back to Emily’s car.

He sat in the back on their way home, staring out the window and barely saying a word. Once they were home and alone again, his dismal mood continued.

Emily had brought them lunch, and Lillian served it. “Would you like some salad dressing? I think it’s French,” she said, peering into the container.

“Oh, I don’t care,” he answered.

She sat at the table across from him and finally couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “Ezra, enough of this moping. I thought getting out to church would snap you out of this infernal blue mood. It did seem to, for a few minutes there,” she reminded him. “But here we are, and you’re more miserable looking than ever. Life is short. Is there any sense in fretting over things we can’t control?”

“That’s just the trouble, Lillian. We did have control. You did. And you did the wrong thing. I’ve tried to let this go, but I just can’t. Especially when you can’t even admit that you made such a gross error in judgment.”

Lillian sat back as if slapped across the face. “Is that really what you think?”

He nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. It is. I have loved you truly, through all your missteps and battles, real and imagined. I have always done my utmost to understand you. But this is something I just can’t accept.”

Did he really mean that? Or was he just talking out of anger? Lillian feared it was the former, his voice was so cold and even. “Ezra . . . please. Everyone has their faults. Nobody is perfect.”

“I’ve never expected perfection, Lillian. You know that. But other times when you’ve lost your way, you always seem to come back. This time, you’ve . . . disappointed me,” he said sadly.

Lillian sat silently. That was the most hurtful thing Ezra had ever said to her. And she couldn’t think of any way to argue it.

Ezra stood up. “I think I’ll take a rest. In my room.”

“What about lunch? You haven’t even touched your salad. Aren’t you hungry?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just tired. I’m not used to being out and about, I guess.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s it. Have a nap. You’ll feel better.”

As he stalked off, she truly doubted he would wake up feeling any differently than he did now. This was a penance she had not expected. Ezra, so disappointed in her. Her ever-accepting helpmate, her closest friend and ally, who had loved her from afar for decades and was, by his own admission, the happiest man on earth the day they finally married.

BOOK: Songs of Christmas
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