Cupid's Christmas (18 page)

I
knew Eleanor thought Ray would call back once he’d simmered down, but after three days had passed without a word, she began to have doubts. On Friday evening she called his house and left a message, “We’re looking forward to seeing you and Traci next Thursday,” she said sounding optimistic. “I’ve ordered a twenty-two pound turkey so there will be plenty of white meat, I know you don’t—” A shrill beep cut into her words and the mechanical voice said, “end of message.”

“It’s not the end of…” Eleanor stopped mid-sentence because by then all she had was a dial tone. She dialed the number a second time and tried to speak faster. “The machine cut me off before I could finish,” she said, “but call me back, I’ve got something important to tell you.” Although she’d left that message, I knew what Eleanor wanted was the opportunity to tell Ray what she had to say in person. To her, a telephone call seemed so impersonal. Family things, she felt, deserved a face to face discussion—a discussion that would enable warring parties to work things out. Eleanor had deliberately tried to keep her tone light and cheerful in the hope that Ray would consider their earlier conversation forgotten or forgiven—which I must admit sounded pretty good to me as well.   

At nine o’clock that evening John suggested they take a ride over to Friendly’s for an ice cream sundae, but Eleanor shook her head, “Let’s not,” she said. “I’m expecting Ray to call.”

John smiled. “Did you tell him yet?”

“I haven’t had the chance,” she answered.

“Are you going to tell him when he calls?”

“I don’t know…” she sighed. “I may have to.”

Eleanor sat at the kitchen table and waited for the telephone to ring. Her message had said it was important, so she was sure he’d call. Seven o’clock turned into eight and then nine, but there was no ring, there was only a silent telephone and the far off sound of the living room television. She waited until almost midnight then snapped the light off and went up to bed. “I guess he didn’t get my message,” she sighed.

On Saturday morning before she turned the coffee pot to brew, Eleanor called and left another message. “Ray honey,” she said, “I’ve got something important to tell you so call me back. Oh, and by the way, on Thursday we’re planning to have dinner at about four o’clock—let me know if that’s okay for you and Traci.” She reluctantly set the receiver back in its cradle. Even if he was still feeling perturbed he’d at least call, she rationalized. “I said it was important, what if I was sick? What if…”

It was the first question John asked when he sat down at the breakfast table, “Did you hear from Ray yet?”

Eleanor shook her head no. “They’re late sleepers,” she said, “I doubt he’s listened to the messages.” Somewhere deep inside her heart, in the place where people hide the ugliest truths of those they love, Eleanor knew such was not the case. Ray was someone who pocketed his anger and held onto it until it was threadbare.  She knew that the probability was she would have to give him the news over the telephone. Eleanor did what she’d done a thousand times before, what her mother and grandmother had done, she hid her feelings in a flurry of activity. If she moved fast enough, talked enough, smiled enough, maybe, just maybe, the heartache couldn’t catch up. She turned to the stove and poured three rounds of pancake batter onto the griddle.

Lindsay caught the look on Eleanor’s face as she turned, John did not. “Lindsay,” he said, “I’m going to the Renegades football game this afternoon, it’s the last home game of the season—do you want to join me?”

“No thanks, Dad. Eleanor and I are going shopping together.”

“You can go with your dad, if you want,” Eleanor volunteered. “I don’t mind going to Macy’s by myself.”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it,” Lindsay laughed. “I’m really looking forward to this shopping trip. Dad and I can go to a football game anytime—”

“No we can’t,” John said. “This is the last home game of the season…” But by then, Lindsay had moved on to talking about a pair of shoes she’d seen online.

After John left the table, Eleanor turned to Lindsay, “Maybe you should go with your dad,” she said. “Ray hasn’t called yet. I think I’d better stay here and wait for his call.”

“You don’t have to be at home to get the call,” Lindsay said. “I can just program the house phone and have it redirect all the calls to my cell.”

“Will the caller know they’re being sent to your phone?”

Lindsay shook her head. “Nope. The house phone will ring once, then pause for a second and start ringing on my cell.”

“Good,” Eleanor said. She didn’t mention that if Ray heard such a message he’d more than likely hang up. He’d already made numerous comments about her favoring Lindsay over Traci. At the time she’d tried not to give credence to such comments, but Ray hammered them home every chance he got. The last time he’d said it, Eleanor suggested that she had to be nice since Lindsay was John’s daughter. “Precisely!” Ray replied, with icicles hanging off of every syllable.

At a few minutes after eleven, Lindsay parked the car on Fifteenth Street and they started walking toward Market. As they passed the shops, they saw window after window filled with festive red dresses, sparkling jewelry, and Christmas trees. “So soon?” Eleanor sighed. “The stores are ready for Christmas and it’s not even Thanksgiving.” She didn’t say it, but I knew what she was thinking. Eleanor was wishing the days would slow down. To her mind, time was the great healer; it bridged the gap in friendships, brought new loves and erased old angers. If given enough time, she believed, anything might be possible.

When they passed by the Hallmark store Lindsay grabbed Eleanor by the hand and pulled her into the shop. They walked in and out of the aisles looking at trees decorated in a dozen different themes—nutcrackers, teddy bears, ballerinas, gold trees with glittery bows, silver trees with shiny globes, even what was supposed to be a natural tree hung with plastic pine cones and silk magnolia blossoms. Lindsay stopped in front of the angel tree, “This is my absolute favorite,” she sighed.

“Mine too,” Eleanor replied. The two of them spent over an hour in the store and when they finally left Eleanor had purchased a box of Christmas cards, two hand-painted ornaments and four glittery angels.

The next stop was Macy’s.

They started in the China department and once they’d purchased the two place settings they came for, they moved on to dresses and sportswear. I could see there were moments when Eleanor allowed herself to get caught up in the excitement of the season, times when she could forget about the call she was both anticipating and dreading, times when she could think only of the sweater she slipped over her head or the pants that zipped without pinching, but trust me, those times were few.

It was almost four o’clock when Eleanor could hold it in no longer. “I’m worried that Ray hasn’t called,” she told Lindsay.

“Call him again,” Lindsay suggested and handed her the cell phone.

Eleanor punched in the number and waited. The telephone rang six times and then the answering machine clicked on. She’d already left a number of messages, and had nothing more to add to what she’d already said, so she clicked end and handed the phone back to Lindsay. “No answer,” she lied. “I guess they’re out.”

When they left the store at five-thirty, darkness was already settling into the sky. Lindsay glanced at her watch, “We’d better hurry,” she said. “Matthew is picking me up at seven.” They were standing on the corner of Market and Fifteenth when the phone in Lindsay’s pocket jangled. She switched the shopping bag to her left hand, pulled the phone from her pocket and said, “Hi.” She expected the caller to be Matthew.

“Who’s this?” the voice asked.

“Lindsay Gray,” she answered, then she remembered the call Eleanor was waiting for. “Is this Ray?” she said.

“Did my mother put you up to this?”

“Nobody put me up to anything,” Lindsay said. “Your mother is right here, and she’s the one who wants to talk to you. Hold—”

Before she could finish the sentence, Ray started to talk again. This time it was in a loud angry voice. “I have nothing to say, so don’t put her on the phone!”

Lindsay had no love of Ray as it was, and her intention had been to simply hand Eleanor the phone, but the anger in his voice triggered hers. “Hey! Just a minute there, watch how you’re talking! All your mother wants—”

Eleanor caught the gist of the conversation and realized it was Ray. She turned toward Lindsay and reached for the phone, that’s when she saw the black car slam into the curb. A fraction of a second later the car was airborne and sailing toward Lindsay’s back. There was no time for warning, no time to step aside, the only thing she could do was what she did. Eleanor plowed shoulder-first into Lindsay’s side and sent the girl sprawling across the sidewalk. 

Ray continued talking…“I know what she wants and you can tell her to forget it. I’m not interested in anything…” He stopped when he heard the shriek of rending metal and the screams that followed. “Lindsay? Mom? Mom…”

He hit redial but got nothing. No ring. No message. No anything.

He then tried calling the house but after a single ring, that phone also went dead.

L
ife Management is the cause of this—now I know exactly what they’re up to. When that car went airborne the future became the present and I could see straight into the center of what was to be. As far as I’m concerned their actions are over the top irresponsible! I’ve had it! No more Mister Love, Mister Nice Guy, Mister Take-whatever-you-hand-me. Enough is enough. I’m ready for a fight!

I’ve been working on getting Eleanor and John together for over two years and now that I’ve got everything in place, they come up with this kind of disaster? Well this time they’re not getting away with it. I’m going in with both fists swinging!

Yeah, I know the rules. Life Management’s events get First Priority, but…this? No way.

I’ll probably catch the fire of retribution for what I’m about to do, but this time I’m not letting those guys get away with it! If I give up believing in love, my life would be hell anyway.

Cupid…The Crash

T
he black car hit the curb with such force that it went airborne, flew by Eleanor whacking her in the back, flipped over and hit the Toyota then flipped again and crashed through the plate glass window. When the car finally came to a stop, there were five people lying on the ground—an elderly couple, a young girl, Eleanor and Lindsay.  Eleanor was face down on top of the shopping bag full of broken glass that, moments earlier, had been her additional place settings. Lindsay was lying on her back with her right leg twisted beneath her. Neither of them was moving. Inside the store a clerk pinned behind the car’s right fender frantically screamed for someone to pull her free. A teenage boy stumbled around calling for his dad. The boy’s left arm was dangling from his shoulder and the large gash above his right eyebrow was oozing blood.  The driver of the car was slumped over the wheel with a shaft of window glass going in one side of his neck and out the other. 

The street was littered with broken glass and remnants of people, a purse, a mangled shopping bag, a shoe, a trampled cell phone, a red muffler hanging from a parking meter. Those who were standing and had escaped injury, scrambled to flee the spot—even though the disaster had come to a standstill. Although no one stepped forward to claim credit for it, a caller dialed 9-1-1 and reported the accident.

A burly father and son team stepped through the broken window and tried to push the mangled car sideways to free the trapped clerk. Before they could make it happen, the wail of sirens filled the air. “The cops are here now,” the father told the trapped clerk, “Stay calm. They’ll have you out in no time.” The frightened clerk ceased screaming, but pleaded for her rescuers to stay. “Please,” she begged, “…stay with me until they get here.”

The first ambulance pulled up seconds after the police car. 

Kneeling beside Eleanor was a woman who’d been half a block back, but seen everything. She held Eleanor’s limp hand in hers, “You’ll be okay,” she mumbled, “You’ll be okay.” Eleanor gave no response.

When the Paramedics scrambled out of the truck the older one hurried over to the girl who’d been walking just steps in front of Lindsay, she’d been the one the car hit after the first flip, and she’d taken the brunt of the impact. The girl had been propelled across the sidewalk, slammed into the side of the building and brought down hard on her head. The Paramedic bent over the girl, listened for sounds of breath and felt for a pulse. After less than a minute he stood and shook his head sorrowfully.

The officer first on the scene was leaning over Eleanor who appeared to be bleeding from a number of places. “Do you know her?” he asked the woman holding Eleanor’s hand.

“No,” the woman answered. “But, when I saw her get hit, I came to see if I could help.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “It was so quick. That car came from out of nowhere…” she hesitated for a moment and tried to remember. “I think the black car hit something then it went up in the air and when it came down it hit this woman in the back and then it hit the young girl. Then everybody started screaming and glass started breaking…” The woman suddenly raised her hand and covered her eyes, as if she had seen something terrible. “Oh my God!” she gasped. “The car wasn’t going to hit this woman. It was going to hit that blonde girl.” She pointed to Lindsay, who now had a Paramedic kneeling beside her. “The car hit this woman because she pushed the girl out of the way!”