Home for the Holidays (31 page)

“I'
ve never eaten at the Four Seasons in my life,” Emily said anxiously, “Christmas or not.” She was sure there'd be more spoons at a single place setting than she had in her entire kitchen.

“It's where Mother always stays when she's in town,” Ray told her. His hand rested on the small of her back as he directed her into the huge and elegantly decorated hotel lobby, dominated by a massive Christmas tree.

Emily glanced around, hoping to see Heather. Her daughter had been shocked to find her and Ray together. Although mortified that Heather had caught her half-undressed—well, with her blouse unfastened, anyway—Emily had hurriedly introduced them. Then, summoning all the panache she could muster, she'd announced that she hadn't slept with him.

Her cheeks flamed at the memory of how she'd managed to embarrass all three of them in one short sentence.

“Do you see Heather?” Emily asked, scanning the lobby.

“No,” Ray murmured, “but I'm not looking for her.”

The two people she held so dear hadn't exactly gotten off on the right foot, and Emily blamed herself.

Ray had tried to explain that the condo actually belonged to his brother, Professor Brewster, but Heather had been too flustered and confused to respond. The scene had been awkward, to say the least. Complicating everything, Heather had immediately stumbled out.

She'd rushed after Heather to invite her to the hotel for Christmas dinner. Her daughter had pretended not to hear, then stepped into the elevator and cast Emily a disgusted look. She'd shaken her head disapprovingly, as if the last place on earth she wanted to be was with her mother and that…
man.

Emily had gone back into the apartment with her stomach in knots. She still felt ill; her stomachache hadn't abated since last night and she'd hardly been able to force down any breakfast.

“She'll be here any minute,” Ray told her.

“Do you think so?” Emily's voice swelled with anticipation and renewed hope.

Ray exhaled loudly. “Actually, I was referring to my mother.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders deflated.

“Heather will make her own decision,” Ray said, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“I know.” Emily had already realized that, but it was hard not to call her and smooth things out, despite Heather's rude behavior. To be estranged from her only child on Christmas Day was almost more than Emily could bear. If she hadn't heard from her by early evening, she knew she'd break down and call.

“Rayburn!” His mother stepped out of the elevator,
minus FiFi the Pomeranian. She held out her arms to her son as she slowly glided across the lobby. Several heads turned in their direction.

“Mother likes to make an entrance,” Ray said under his breath.

“So I noticed.”

Bernice Brewster hugged Ray as if it'd been years since their last meeting, and then shifted her attention to Emily. Clasping both of Emily's hands, the older woman smiled benevolently.

“I am so pleased that my son has finally found someone so special.”

“Mother, stop it,” Ray hissed under his breath.

Emily quite enjoyed his discomfort. “Ray's the special one, Mrs. Brewster.”

“I do agree, but it takes the right woman to recognize what a prize he is.”

“What time is the dinner reservation?” Ray asked in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

“Three-thirty,” his mother informed him. “I do hope you're hungry.”

“I'm famished,” Emily said, although it wasn't true. Worried as she was about Heather, she didn't know if she could eat a single bite. “I, uh, hope you don't mind, but I invited my daughter to join us…. She didn't know if she could make it or not.”

Ray gripped her hand at the telltale wobble in her voice.

“Is anything wrong, my dear?” Mrs. Brewster asked.

“I—Heather and I had a bit of a disagreement.”

“Children inflict those on their parents every now and then.” Ray's mother looked pointedly in his direction. “Isn't that right, Rayburn?”

Ray cleared his throat and agreed. “It's been known to happen. Every now and then, as you say.”

“Don't you worry,” the older woman said, gently patting Emily's forearm. “We'll ask the maître d' to seat us at a table for four and trust your daughter has the good sense to make an appearance.”

“I hope she does, too.”

Ray spoke to the maître d' and they were led to a table with four place settings. Emily was surprised by the number of people who ate dinner in a restaurant on Christmas Day. Aujourd'hui was full, with a long waiting list, if the people assembled near the front were any indication.

The maître d' seated Mrs. Brewster, and Ray pulled out Emily's chair. She was half seated when she saw Heather. Her daughter rushed into the restaurant foyer, glancing around the tables until she caught sight of Emily. A smile brightened her pretty face, and she came into the room, dragging a young man. It took Emily only a moment to recognize Ben.

Emily stood to meet her daughter.

“Mom!” Heather threw her arms around Emily's neck. “I'm so glad I found you.”

Emily struggled with emotion. “I am, too.” She could hardly speak since her throat was clogged with tears.

“Hi,” Heather said, turning to Ray. She extended her hand. “We sort of met last night. I'm Heather.”

Ray stood, and they exchanged handshakes. “Ray.” He motioned to his mother. “This is my mother, Bernice Brewster.”

“And this is Ben Miller,” Heather said, slipping her arm around the young man's waist. She pressed her head against his shoulder, as if they were a longtime couple.
Emily was curious about what had happened to Elijah No-Last-Name, but figured she'd learn the details later.

“Please,” Mrs. Brewster said, gesturing to the table. “I would like both of you to join us.”

Immediately an extra chair and place setting were delivered to the table, and not a minute later everyone was seated.

“This place is really something,” Heather said with awe. “You wouldn't believe some of the roadside dumps I ate at while I was in Florida. Thanks so much for including us.”

“It's good to see you again,” Emily said, smiling at Ben.

The college student grinned, and answered Heather's unspoken question. “Your mother and Ray bought a Christmas tree from me a few days ago.”

“Oh.”

“When did you two…” Emily began, but wasn't sure how to phrase what she wanted to ask.

“When I left last night, I was pretty upset,” Heather confessed, reaching for her water glass. She didn't drink from it but held on to it tightly. “I don't really know why I took off the way I did.” She turned to Ray's mother. “I guess I didn't expect to find my mother with a man, you know?”

“Rayburn isn't just a regular run-of-the-mill man,” Bernice said with more than a trace of indignation.

“I know—well, at first I didn't, but I'm over that now.” Heather drew in a deep breath. “When I left the condo, I wasn't sure where to go or what to do, so I started walking and—”

“I saw her,” Ben interrupted, “kind of wandering aimlessly down the street.”

“You were still at the Christmas-tree lot?” Ray asked.

Ben nodded. “For those last-minute shoppers. Technically I should've closed about an hour earlier, but I didn't have anywhere to be, so I stuck around.”

“It was a good thing, too,” Heather said, her eyes brimming with gratitude. “I don't know what I would've done without Ben.”

“I closed down the lot, and then Heather and I found somewhere to have coffee and we talked.”

“Ben told me just what I needed to hear. He said I was being ridiculous and that my mother was entitled to her own life.”

The waiter appeared then, and handed everyone elegant menus. Heather paused until he'd finished.

“It's just that I never thought my mother would ever be interested in a man other than my father,” she continued in a low voice as Bernice perused the wine list. “I was…shocked, you know?”

Beneath the table, Ray took Emily's hand and they entwined their fingers.

“You
are
interested in Ray, aren't you?” Heather asked her mother.

The entire room seemed to go silent, as though everyone was waiting for Emily's reply. “Well…”

Mrs. Brewster leaned closer. So did Ray.

“I—I guess you could s-say I'm interested,” she stammered. Now that the words were out, she suddenly felt more confident. “As a matter of fact, yes, I am. Definitely. Yes.”

Mrs. Brewster released a long sigh. “Is it too early to discuss the wedding?”

“Yes.” Ray and Emily spoke simultaneously and then both smothered their laughter.

“We've just met,” Ray reminded everyone. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?”

“But you are smitten, aren't you?” Ray's mother asked with such eagerness that Emily couldn't disappoint her.

“Very much,” she said, smiling at the old-fashioned word.

“And Rayburn?”

“I'm smitten, too.”

“Good.” Mrs. Brewster turned to Heather next. “I think a pale green and the lightest of pinks for the wedding colors, don't you agree?”

Heather nodded. “Perfect.”

“May or June?”

Heather sneaked a look at her mother and winked. “June.”

Ray brought his head closer to Emily's and spoke behind the menu. “They're deciding our future. Do you object?”

Emily grinned, and a warm, happy feeling flowed through her. “Not especially. What about you?”

Ray grinned back. “I've always been fond of June.”

“Me, too.”

“My mother will drive us both crazy,” he warned.

“I like her,” Emily whispered. “I even like FiFi.”

Ray studied Bernice and then sighed. “Mother
is
a sweetheart—despite everything.”

The waiter approached the table. “Merry Christmas,” he said formally, standing straight and tall, as if it was his distinct pleasure to serve them on this very special day of the year.

“May I offer you a drink to start off with?”

“Champagne!” Bernice called out. “Champagne all round.”

“Champagne,” the others echoed.

“We have a lot to celebrate,” Bernice pronounced. “Christmas, a homecoming—and a wedding.”

“T
his is so festive, isn't it?” Faith had seen pictures of Rockefeller Center, but that didn't compare to actually standing here, watching the skaters in their bright winter clothes. Some were performing elaborate twirls and leaps; others clung timidly to the sides. They all seemed to be having a good time.

“I knew you'd love it,” Emily said.

“What I'd love to do is skate.” Not that she would in what Charles referred to as her “delicate” condition. She rubbed her stomach with one hand, gently reassuring her unborn child that she wouldn't do anything so foolish when she was six months pregnant. In the other hand she held several shopping bags from Saks.

The two friends continued down the avenue, weaving in and out of the crowd. Emily, too, carried packages and bags.

“I still can't imagine you living in New York City and actually loving it, especially after all those years in Leavenworth,” Faith said. She was happy for Emily and Ray,
but she'd been astonished when Emily had announced last spring that she was moving across the country.

“What I discovered is that New York is just a collection of small communities. There's Brooklyn and SoHo and the Village and Little Italy and Harlem and more.”

“What about teaching? Is that any different?”

Emily shook her head. “Children are children, and the kindergartners here are just like the ones in Leavenworth. Okay, so they might be a bit more sophisticated, but in many ways five-year-olds are the same everywhere.”

“What's new with Ray?”

Emily's lips turned up in a soft smile. “He works too hard. He brings his work home with him and spends far too many hours at the office, but according to everyone I've met, he's better now than ever.”

“Better?”

Her friend blushed. “Happier.”

“That,” said Faith, “is what regular sex will do for you.”

“Faith.” Emily nudged her and laughed.

“It certainly worked with Charles.”

“If you're going to talk about your love life, I don't want to hear it.”

Faith enjoyed watching Emily blush. She'd never seen her this radiant. Life had certainly taken an interesting turn for them both, she reflected. Just a year earlier, they'd been lonely and depressed, facing the holidays alone. A mere twelve months later, each was married—and, to pile happiness on top of happiness, they were practically sisters now. Faith's baby was due in March, and Charles was about as excited as a man could get at the prospect of becoming a father.

His mother was pretty pleased with herself, too. Faith and Emily had both come to love Bernice Brewster. She'd waited nearly seventy years for daughters, and she lavished her daughters-in-law with gifts and occasional bits of motherly wisdom and advice. Well, perhaps more than occasional, but Faith had no objection and she doubted Emily did, either.

“When will Heather get here?” Faith asked, looking forward to seeing her.

“Tomorrow afternoon. She's taking the train down.”

“How is she?”

Emily rearranged her shopping bags. “Heather's doing really well.”

“Did you ever find out what happened with Elijah and the ill-fated Florida trip? I know she didn't want to talk about it for a while….”

Emily frowned. “Apparently he drank too much and he didn't like to eat in real restaurants. His idea of fine dining was a hot dog at a roadside stand. In addition to all that, he apparently had a roving eye, which Heather didn't approve of.”

“That girl always was high maintenance,” Faith teased. “What about her and Ben?”

“Who knows?” Emily said with a shrug. “She claims they're just friends but they seem to spend a lot of time together. Ben's going on to law school after graduation.”

“Good for him.”

“He might come down and spend Christmas with us, too.”

“You'll have a houseful, with Heather and maybe Ben.” Despite the invitation to spend Christmas in New York at their apartment, Charles and Faith had booked a room at
the Warwick Hotel. Bernice was due to arrive, as well. She, of course, would be staying at the Plaza.

Faith doubted there was anyplace more romantic than New York at Christmastime.

She and Emily walked into the Warwick and down the steps to the small lobby. Ray and Charles stood when they came into the room. Even now, after all these months, Faith's heart fluttered at the sight of her husband. His eyes brightened when he saw her. The unexpected happiness she'd discovered last Christmas had never left. Instead, it had blossomed and grown. She was loved beyond measure by a man who was worthy of her devotion.

“Looks like you bought out Saks Fifth Avenue,” Charles said as he took the packages from her hands.

“Just the baby department, but Charles, I couldn't help myself. Everything was so cute.”

“Buying anything is a big mistake,” Ray told them, helping Emily with her shopping bags. “Mother's waited all these years to spoil her first grandchild. My guess is she has stock in Toys ‘R' Us by now.”

“Don't forget a certain aunt and uncle, too,” Emily murmured.

Faith wrapped her arm around Charles's and laid her head against his shoulder.

Emily read her perfectly. “Listen, why don't you two go to your room and rest for a little while? Faith needs to put her feet up and relax. Ray and I will have a drink and catch up. Then, when you're ready, we'll go out for dinner.”

Faith nodded, grateful for her friend's sympathy and intuition.

Charles led the way to the elevator. He didn't speak until they were inside. “You overdid it, didn't you?”

“Only a bit. I'll be fine as soon as I sit down with a cup of herbal tea.”

Her husband tucked his arm protectively around her and waited until they were back in the room to kiss her.

Then he ordered tea.

 

“Did you two have a chance to visit?” Ray asked as Emily removed her coat and slung it over the back of her chair. They'd entered the bar, securing a table near the window. “Or was shopping at the top of your priority list?”

“Actually, we did some of both. It's just so good to see Faith this happy.”

The waitress came by, and Ray ordered a hot buttered rum for each of them.

“I can't believe the changes in her,” Emily said. “She's so much more confident.”

“I was going to say the same thing about Charles,” her husband said with a bemused grin. “I hardly recognize my own brother. Until he met Faith, all he cared about was history—in fact, I think he would've preferred to live in the eighteenth century. I feel like I finally have a brother again.”

The waitress brought their drinks and set them on the table, along with a bowl of salted nuts.

“Do you suppose they're talking about us in the same way?” Emily asked. “Are we different people now than we were a year ago?”

“I know I am,” Ray said.

“I think I am, too.”

Emily reached for a pecan, her favorite nut, and then for no discernible reason started to laugh.

“What's so funny?”

“Us. Have you forgotten the day we met?”

Ray grinned. “Not likely.”

“I was so miserable and upset, and then you happened along. I glommed on to you so fast, I can only imagine what you must've thought.”

“
You
glommed on to me?” he repeated. “That's not the way I remember it.” Ray grabbed a handful of nuts. “As I recall, I found out that my brother had traded homes with this incredibly lovely woman. The explanation was reasonable. All I had to do was reassure my mother everything was fine and catch the train back to New York.”

Emily lowered her eyes and smiled. “I'm so glad you ended up staying.”

“You think I missed the last train by accident?”

“You didn't?”

“Not by a long shot. As my mother would say, I was smitten. I still am.”

“That's comforting to hear.”

“Christmas with you last year was the best of my life.”

“Except for the Christmas you got the red racer.”

“Well, that was my second-best Christmas.”

“And this year?”

“When Christmas comes, I'll let you know.”

“You do that,” Emily whispered, raising her glass in a toast to the most wonderful Christmas gift of her life.