“Let’s open our gifts,” she suggested. Maryellen had spent her Christmas bonus from the Harbor Street Gallery on a high-end digital camera for Jon. He’d been eyeing it for months, but couldn’t justify the expense. She knew how badly he wanted it and her joy at being able to purchase it for him made her feel giddy with excitement.
“You first,” he said. Getting up, he walked over to the tree and plucked off a small package dangling from one of the branches. Maryellen had noticed it there but hadn’t touched it. Her main concern had been keeping Katie away from the gifts.
“I hear good things come in small packages,” she teased. They were on a limited budget, so she expected something inexpensive. A token. She tore off the wrapping and found a jeweler’s embossed box. She stared at Jon, and her smile faded.
“Open it,” he said.
Her husband wasn’t a man who smiled often. His delight at watching her open this gift was revealed by the way his eyes brightened and the edges of his mouth curved upward in anticipation.
Maryellen lifted the lid and gasped. It was a diamond wedding ring with a solitaire diamond that had to be a full carat in size. Tears instantly blurred her vision and speech became impossible. When they were married, all they’d been able to afford was a simple gold band. Not once had Maryellen even hinted that she would’ve preferred a diamond. Jon was her jewel, she’d told him, and the love they shared was worth far more than any ring.
“Say something,” he said urgently. “Do you like it? Because if you don’t, I can exchange it.”
“I love it….” She threw her arms around his neck and broke into sobs of joy. “How?” She was sure he hadn’t charged it. Jon was an excellent money manager and always paid cash. Their home didn’t have a mortgage because her frugal husband had paid for each section as he built it. He hadn’t finished yet, but that would happen in time.
“I put aside money all year,” Jon told her, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I always intended for you to have a diamond, but it wasn’t financially possible when we got married.”
Maryellen took the ring from its plush bed and slid it onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. She smiled up at him, then kissed him sweetly and whispered how much she loved him. Holding her hand out to admire the ring, she saw the diamond glittering in the light. “I really do love it. But not as much as I love you.”
“I’m glad.”
“Your turn,” she insisted and pulled the box out from behind the tree. A large paper package tumbled out with it.
“Who’s that from?” Jon muttered.
He must have guessed, but still he asked. Maryellen sighed; she didn’t want anything to ruin this Christmas. “It came last week from Oregon,” she finally said.
The package had arrived at the gallery, addressed to the three of them, DON’T OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS written in big block letters across the top. Without a word to Jon, Maryellen had brought it home and hidden it behind the tree.
“Open your gift,” she said, hoping to distract him.
“When did that get here?” he asked in a disgusted voice.
“Last week.”
“You didn’t mention it.”
Maryellen sank into the chair. “Jon, please, don’t. Katie is their only grandchild. They love her and want to be part of her life. You’ve made your feelings abundantly clear, but your daughter deserves to know her grandparents.”
He seemed about to argue, but after a moment his shoulders sagged and he nodded.
“Now open your gift,” she said, pushing the package toward him. It wasn’t heavy, but she wanted to give him the impression that it was.
Jon eagerly ripped away the paper, and when he saw the camera box, he froze. Slowly he looked up, his eyes wide with shock. “You didn’t.”
“Yes, I did,” she announced gleefully.
“We can’t afford this.”
“I used my bonus.”
“Maryellen, that money is for you to buy yourself something you want.”
“I did. There’s nothing I wanted more in this world than to give my husband the digital camera he’s been salivating over for the last six months.”
Jon walked to where she sat and knelt down in front of her. Taking her face between his hands, he kissed her. “Thank you.”
Maryellen placed her arms around his neck. “This is the best Christmas of my life,” she said and meant it. She had Jon and Katie, and another life was growing inside her, evidence of the love she and her husband shared.
Katie woke then, and dropping a last kiss on Maryellen’s cheek, Jon ran upstairs to get his daughter. While he was busy with Katie, Maryellen poured the little girl her morning cup of orange juice.
Opening gifts with their daughter was a pleasure like no other. Katie wanted to play with each toy and examine each gift and—like every young child—was equally fascinated with the wrapping paper. Not surprisingly, the process took several hours. It was two in the afternoon and the turkey was in the oven before they reached the last gift—the box mailed from Oregon.
Katie wasn’t sure about this package without festive paper, so Maryellen helped her. Jon stood in the kitchen and watched, as if to stay as far away as possible from the gift his family had sent.
When she’d carefully removed the outer packaging, Maryellen discovered three wrapped presents inside: one for Katie, another for her and the last for Jon. She sat back on her heels and glanced up at her husband.
“What?” he asked.
She didn’t answer right away. “Here, Katie,” she said and handed her daughter the gift. It turned out to be a hand-crocheted white dress with a pink satin bow and it was breathtakingly beautiful. Maryellen could only imagine the time and effort that had gone into creating it.
Katie, being far more interested in her toys, quickly returned to the wooden puzzle Jon and Maryellen had purchased for her. She seemed intent on getting all the pieces back into their proper slots.
“I’ll open mine,” Maryellen said. Her gift was homemade, too—a knit poncho in a soft beige wool. “Oh, Jon, look what Ellen made for me.”
He didn’t comment. When Maryellen tried it on and modeled it for him, he nodded once, then moved away. Apparently something in the kitchen demanded his immediate attention.
Maryellen left his gift sitting on the coffee table. She wouldn’t urge him to open it. That was his choice. The gift sat there through dinner, and it was only as she was readying for bed that she noticed Jon hadn’t come upstairs yet. Katie was asleep and Maryellen had to work in the morning.
Looking down the stairway, she saw her husband sitting on the sofa, staring at the gift. After a while he seized the large package with its red-and-green wrap and tore it open. This was a step forward. So far, every gesture made by his family had been met with brutal rejection. Recognizing the significance of the moment, Maryellen covered her mouth. She didn’t wait to see what Jon’s parents had chosen for him. Afraid of giving herself away, she went quietly to bed and waited for him to join her.
A long time passed before he did. She’d turned off the light and was lying on her side, half-asleep, when Jon climbed into the bed. He moved close to her and draped his arm over her waist, flattening his hand against her stomach.
Maryellen rested her hand on his.
“You awake?” he whispered.
She sighed sleepily in response. Because he was so still, she asked, “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know,” came his hoarse reply. “My father’s a bastard. Knowing I was innocent, he sent me to rot in a jail cell. And now…now he gives me a fishing pole for Christmas.”
Maryellen rolled onto her back so she could look into her husband’s face and discovered Jon’s eyes bright with unshed tears. Cradling his cheek with one hand, she kissed him, not sure how else to comfort him.
“He used to take me fishing when I was a kid, before my mother died. Those were the happiest memories of my childhood—fishing with my dad.”
Closing her eyes, Maryellen wrapped both arms around him. She suspected Joseph Bowman had found the one way in which he could reach his son.
Twenty-Five
Cecilia knew Christmas Day without Ian was going to be difficult. She woke feeling melancholy, but was determined to have as merry a Christmas as possible. “Next year your daddy will be with us,” she assured her unborn son, rubbing her swollen belly.
As soon as she was dressed, she logged on to the computer and left her husband a long, detailed message. She sent him all her love on this most special of days and did her best to sound happy and confident. Achieving the right tone required careful thought. If she sounded too cheerful, Ian might think she didn’t miss him. If she seemed depressed and miserable, he’d worry. As a result, she spent almost an hour composing her message. She ended by mentioning the small get-together she was having with Cathy and Carol and added that they’d invited Rachel Pendergast to join them.
A small Christmas tree sat in the window of her duplex, a smattering of gifts beneath. Ian had asked his mother to mail her a lovely gold locket; she’d opened that the minute it arrived. Her in-laws had added a gift of their own—a Pashmina shawl in a lovely shade of soft green. Her own mother had mailed a small box of gifts, mostly baby things, which Cecilia opened that morning. Sandra Merrick had recently married for the third time. Cecilia phoned to wish her a merry Christmas and was given the disappointing news that her mother wouldn’t be able to visit her when the baby was due. She’d used all her vacation time on her honeymoon. They talked for about thirty minutes and Cecilia hung up the phone with mixed feelings. Her mother was happy; Cecilia couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that way after a conversation with her. She was genuinely delighted for Sandra and hoped to meet her new husband soon. Besides, she’d do fine by herself when she was ready to deliver her baby; Cecilia had her friends.
At noon, she drove over to Cathy Lackey’s for Christmas dinner. She saw Carol Greendale’s vehicle parked outside Cathy’s place—Carol and her daughter, Amanda, had already arrived. Amanda had been born the same month as Allison. For a long time, Cecilia could barely look at the little girl without feeling overwhelmed by grief. But now, Cecilia felt only a twinge of pain when she saw Amanda.
“Merry Christmas,” she sang out, letting herself into the apartment. She carried a special chicken pasta salad her mother made every Christmas. It had always been Cecilia’s favorite. She also had a bag filled with small gifts; they’d decided to exchange presents, setting a ten-dollar limit.
“Merry Christmas,” Cathy called from the kitchen. She wore a felt reindeer antler headpiece with bells that jingled as she walked. Cathy’s son, Andy, was playing with Amanda in the living room. “I’ve got the bird in the oven and we should be eating in three hours—if this oven holds up.”
“Problems?” Carol asked. She had on a bright red sweater with three Christmas-tree bulbs in black, yellow and green decorating the front.
