Magnolia Wednesdays (22 page)

THE LAST WEDNESDAY night before Christmas the class was so small they fit into one line.

“This is why we’re breaking for the next two weeks,” Melanie said as she positioned herself between Vivien and Ruth. Angela and Sally fell in on either side of them. “Everybody’s way too busy with the holidays. I just hope we get enough reservations for the New Year’s Eve party to make it worthwhile.”

Naranya started the music while they tied on their scarves. A month full of “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and “Jingle Bells” coupled with the Christmas decorations that surrounded them rendered the ancient oriental melodies even more exotic than usual.

“Maybe we should just blow this Popsicle stand and go away for the holidays,” Vivien said as she tried to balance on one bent leg while resting the ankle of the other above the knee.

“You should come with me,” Naranya said as she reached her arms into the air, watching as they followed. “I am going on thee Princess of the Sea for two weeks. All expenses paid. I teach only one class a day.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Vivi said. “The Caribbean. Lounge chairs by the pool. Midnight buffets.”

“You
would
be fixated on the food,” Melanie said as they went up on their toes and reached toward the snowflake-covered ceiling. “I’m pretty sure there’ll be some of that at Magnolia Hall.”

“Oh, sure,” Vivi said. “If my personal food policeman lets me eat any of it.”

“A personal food policeman?” Angela shot Vivi a look. “I could so use one of those right now. I hate how the holidays revolve completely around food.”

“Ach,” Ruth said. “I baked rugalach for all of you. Don’t let me forget to give you the tins.” They stretched to the side, bending low. “Girls today are too thin. In my day curves were a good thing, not something to try to get rid of.” She looked at Angela. “Or hide.”

“Ruth . . .” Melanie looked at her friend, her tone a warning.

With arms extended they began to roll their right shoulders backward, then forward. At Naranya’s signal they repeated the controlled movement with their left.

“I’m only saying that wearing clothes a size too big makes a person look larger, not smaller,” Ruth said. “I heard that the other night on
What Not to Wear
.”

Angela’s cheeks flushed. Melanie, too, had wondered why the redhead wore clothes too big for her body, but only Ruth would come out and say so.

“There’s a lot of ‘hiding’ going on,” Ruth continued looking now at Vivien. “This one hid her pregnancy until we called her on it. And now she’s hiding out at your house. For someone who has a reputation for digging up the ‘truth’ she doesn’t seem to feel too inclined to share it.”

Melanie’s chest tightened as it had when Caroline and Vivi went at each other. Dance class was meant to relieve stress, not cause it. “Ruth, really,” she began, “I don’t think this is the time to . . .”

Perhaps practicing the tact that would be required of her on a holiday cruise ship, Naranya placed herself in front of Sally and rolled up her black stretch pants so that she could demonstrate the movement of her legs. “Watch how my knees control what my hips do,” she instructed, leaving them to their conversation.

“So you and Ira have always told each other everything?” Angela asked with an odd sort of urgency as they all touched a toe forward, bent at the knees, and began a series of hip rolls. “You don’t keep secrets of any kind?”

Vivi didn’t say anything, but she watched with a sharp-edged interest. They turned and touched the other toe, bent at the knees, and rolled the opposite hip in unison just as Naranya was doing with Sally.

“I always thought so. I thought we shared everything,” Ruth said. “But I was wrong.” Ruth’s hips stilled and Melanie reached out to give her arm a squeeze.

“I think complete honesty is necessary in a long-term relationship. If you don’t tell the truth or you withhold parts of yourself, well . . .” Melanie closed her eyes as she thought about J.J., the Band-Aid momentarily ripping free. “I don’t think a marriage based on anything less has a chance of surviving.”

Vivien blew out a breath and stopped moving her hips. She looked distinctly uncomfortable; but then Melanie already knew that her sister had a sliding scale when it came to the truth. One standard for others, especially the subjects of her investigations; another for herself.

“So you’d want to know the truth about your significant other, even if the truth were unpleasant?” Vivi asked her.

“Absolutely,” Melanie said.

“What about you, Vivi?” Angela asked. None of them were even pretending to practice anymore. “Do you believe both parties in a relationship should know everything about the other?”

Vivi looked away for a long moment and then back. “The answer’s not as black and white as I used to think,” she admitted. “Everything becomes a lot more complicated when you care about someone.”

They all nodded in agreement, though no one seemed especially happy about it.

“That cruise is looking better and better,” Vivi observed as Naranya passed out the zills she had promised and showed them how to slip them onto their fingers.

“Maybe we could sign on as Naranya’s assistants and belly dance every night at the midnight buffet.”

They chimed their finger cymbals enthusiastically in favor of the idea and laughed at the sounds they made. But Melanie knew there’d be no sailing off into the sunset. At least not anytime soon.

22

M
ELANIE HAULED VIVIEN out of bed early on Christmas morning, much as she had when they were kids.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ve got hot chocolate ready. Put a robe on. This is the one morning of the year the kids don’t have to be dynamited out of bed. We always exchange gifts first thing.”

“What time is it?” Vivien mumbled, her eyes still closed.

“Doesn’t matter. Santa left presents under the tree. Some of them even have your name on them.”

They were expected at Magnolia Hall at one o’clock for the official Gray Christmas. On previous visits Vivi had stayed there in her old room and had typically slept in until it was time to make an appearance. She’d never thought to ask if or how the Jacksons had celebrated.

“Mmmphh.” Vivi got one eye open. Melanie wore a bright red robe with white cuffs and collar. Her slippers curled up in an elflike fashion and were striped like candy canes. A Santa hat sat on her head.

“Come on.” Melanie grasped her hand and pulled her from bed. “Go pee. I’ll wait here.”

Still half asleep Vivien did as instructed. Then she splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth. From a hook on the back of the bathroom door she withdrew the cowboy robe and pulled it on.

Downstairs, Trip and Shelby sat on the family room sofa ogling the Christmas tree, which the four of them had wrestled home and decorated two weeks ago. More specifically they were ogling the wrapped packages beneath it. A fire blazed in the fireplace and steaming mugs of hot chocolate sat in front of both kids. A large tin of Christmas cookies, which Melanie and Shelby had baked earlier in the week, sat open on the cocktail table. Clearly, her sister had been up and busy for some time. She looked as excited as her children.

“Don’t you just love Christmas?” she asked, much as she had about Thanksgiving.

“Apparently not as much as you do,” Vivien replied, though it was difficult not to smile at the happy faces turned in her direction. Despite the early hour, Trip seemed to be fully awake. Well, at least both of his eyes were open.

“I wanted to use the pot and spoon to get you out of bed. Or maybe that feather,” Shelby said with an evil smile that was strikingly absent from her tone. “But Mom wouldn’t let me.”

“It’s a good thing,” Vivien replied. “I’d hate to do you bodily harm on a holiday.”

“As if,” Shelby said. But the sarcasm was automatic and decidedly halfhearted. Apparently a Christmas cease-fire was in effect.

“Okay, Trip,” Melanie said, removing the Santa hat from her head and depositing it on her son’s. “You go first.” The hat was much too small and looked ridiculous perched on Trip’s head, but nobody commented on it.

Walking to the tree, he bent down and retrieved three clumsily wrapped packages, which he distributed to each of them.

Shelby got Stephenie Meyer’s new book and Melanie and Vivien received gift cards to the nearby Borders. Trip was clearly a one-stop shopper. But Vivien was touched that he’d actually gone out and shopped and so was his mother, who gave him a kiss on the cheek, which he didn’t wipe off. Shelby plucked the Santa hat off his head and gave him a noogie. Vivien blew him a kiss. He blushed at all the attention and sat back down.

“Shelby?” Melanie nodded at her daughter, and the girl put the Santa cap on her own head. Vivien was stunned by how beautiful her niece was when she ditched the surly expression.

Shelby went to the tree to retrieve the gifts she’d stashed there. Trip loved the new video game and Melanie’s eyes dampened when she opened the massage gift certificate her daughter gave her. If Vivien had been Melanie, she would have exchanged the massage for this version of her daughter the other 364 days of the year. Then she scolded herself for the thought, recognizing it as decidedly Caroline.

When Shelby placed a large carefully wrapped present in Vivien’s lap, Vivi looked up in surprise.

“This is from Mom and me.”

Vivien ducked her head to hide the moisture blurring her own eyes. “Well, at least it’s not ticking,” she joked, then made a show of shaking it in a search for clues.

“I’d say it’s an even better thing there’s no glass inside,” Melanie quipped.

The white clothing box bore the stamp From Here to Maternity and had an Atlanta address. Inside the pink-and-blue tissue paper lay two maternity outfits, one casual, the other slightly dressier. Vivien looked from her sister to her niece.

“Mom told us,” Shelby replied to Vivi’s unasked question. “While she was explaining the importance of birth control no matter what your age is.”

“Shelby!” Melanie said.

Shelby just shrugged. “Well, she’s awful old for something like this to happen. Shouldn’t her eggs be all dried up by now?”

“Sick,” Trip said, but Vivien wasn’t sure if he was referring to the state of her eggs or the video game box he was reading.

“And this came for you last week.” Melanie went to the tree and retrieved a small box wrapped in distinctly foreign gift wrap. “It came addressed to me with instructions not to let you open it until Christmas Day.”

Vivien sniffed back tears as she undid the ribbon with clumsy fingers. Nestled in a bed of cotton was a necklace of what looked like ancient stones in shades of blue. An intricately carved silver amulet hung in its center. “Oh,” she breathed as the tears spilled over. A tiny card written in Stone’s loopy handwriting said simply,
To protect you and keep you safe. With all my love.

Melanie reached over to take it from Vivien’s trembling hands. “It’s beautiful. I think that’s lapis lazuli.” She pointed to a bright blue stone. I’m not sure what the others are.” She fingered one edge of the amulet. “It looks like this opens.” She smiled. “Maybe you should put a picture of you and Stone in it.”

Vivien’s vision blurred as Melanie fastened the clasp around her neck. The stones were rough and warm on her skin, the amulet smooth and cool. She batted her eyelashes frantically to hold back the waterworks as she contemplated how very far away Stone was. And of all she hadn’t told him.

“You’re not gonna get all mushy, are you?” Trip asked in horror.

“Here, have a cookie.” Shelby shoved the tin toward Vivien.

“Okay, my turn,” Melanie said, taking the hat from Shelby’s head and placing it on her own. She handed similarly wrapped packages to Shelby and Trip, both of whom yelped happily when they saw the iPod boxes. “Thanks, Mom!” they said in unison as Shelby held up her pink iPod and Trip held up a silver.

Vivien unwrapped the flat rectangular box that Melanie handed her. “But you already gave me the clothes!”

Melanie shrugged. “This is just a little something extra.”

Inside the box Vivien found a wooden plaque with a wire hanger looped through it. It said Vivi’s Room. Her eyes teared up again. She felt decidedly faucetlike.

Melanie leaned over and hugged Vivien. “Just wanted you to know that the room is yours and the baby’s as long as you want it.”

Vivien gave in to her tears then because she simply couldn’t help it. Trip and Shelby looked away, embarrassed. Melanie gave Vivien’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m really glad you’re here.” This produced more waterworks. And guilt.

The kids stood. “We’re gonna go download some apps from iTunes,” Trip mumbled.

“I’ll make us some more hot chocolate.” Melanie rose from the couch and reached for Vivien’s mug.

Obviously they assumed the gift exchange was over.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Vivien said, sniffing back the last of her tears, not at all flattered by the assumption. “Don’t I get my turn to give gifts? Give me that stupid hat,” she said, plucking it from Melanie’s head and plunking it down on her own.

While they watched, she went to the coat closet and retrieved two boxes and an envelope, which she brought back to the family room.

She handed the bigger box to Shelby. “This is for you.” She sat back down. “I hope you like it.”

Carefully, as if it might in fact contain a bomb, Shelby removed the bow and wrapping paper. A little glimmer of surprise lit her eyes as she noted the designer logo on the box. “Oh, my God,” Shelby shrieked when she’d opened it. “A Coach bag! Look, Mom, it’s real Coach!” She tried it on over her forearm then slipped the strap over one shoulder and struck a pose. “Oh, my gosh, I just can’t believe it!” She swooped down to throw her arms around Vivien. Vivien hugged her back.

Smiling, Vivien beckoned Trip over. “This is for you,” she said, watching him closely, eager to see his reaction.

He examined the box she handed him, a smile still on his face. She could almost see his determination to act happy whatever lame thing she gave him. “I hope it’s not a purse.”

“It’s definitely not a purse,” she promised as he shook the box. “In fact, I suggest you open it because you’re never going to guess.”

Trip focused on unwrapping then, first the large box she’d started with then the two smaller ones she’d wrapped and tucked inside it to prolong the suspense.

“Finally!” he said as he held up the long envelope. “Well, at least it isn’t some girly thing.”

“No.” Vivi smiled. “It definitely is not.”

They all waited as he ripped the envelope open and read the sheet of paper inside, Shelby and Melanie as in the dark as Trip.

“Oh, wow!” He shouted, looking at Vivien, his mouth open. “Is this for real?”

Vivien nodded happily, more than pleased with his delight.

“What is it?” Melanie asked.

“Read it to us!” Shelby demanded.

Trip was still blinking back his surprise. “This entitles Jordan Jackson the third, or Triple, also known as Trip, to accompany James and Cole Wesley to the January Hawks versus Celtics game at Philips Arena.”

His mouth hung open. As did Melanie and Shelby’s.

“You’re not messing with my head, are you?” He checked the paper again.

Vivien shook her head, no, sending the top of the Santa cap flopping. She couldn’t stop smiling, so pleased was she with her surprise. “Angela couldn’t go and James and Cole—that’s his father the pitcher”—she said as if everyone in the room didn’t already know that—“thought it would be fun to have another guy along. You’re the guy.”

“I’m going to a basketball game with Cole Wesley? Me? Really?” He simply couldn’t seem to absorb it. This was by far the most words she’d heard come out of his mouth, cumulatively, since she’d arrived. “Wait till I tell the guys!”

He rushed off, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he went.

“That is so cool!” This was high praise from Shelby. “I think I need to tell a few people myself.” She already had her phone to her ear before she’d gotten to the stairs.

Melanie and Vivien exchanged glances.

“Wow!” Melanie said. “You are formidable when you apply yourself, Vivi. Even I’m impressed.”

“Why, thank you.” Vivien smiled. “But I’m not completely finished. Here.” She handed the large envelope to her sister. “This is for you. With thanks.” Her smile faltered a bit. “And apologies.”

Melanie slipped a fingernail under the flap and pulled it open. Slowly she removed the handwritten card.
This entitles the bearer, that’s you, Mel, to the services of Wilda and Carlos, cleaners extraordinaire, every week for the next six months. Date and time to be determined.

Melanie dropped the card into her lap. “Oh, no, Vivi, that’s too much. I can’t accept . . .”

“You cannot refuse a gift. That would be too awful,” Vivi said. “Especially not after everything I’ve taken from you.”

“But . . .”

She held up a hand to silence Melanie’s protests. “And especially not after I humbled myself by calling Ruth and begging for a referral. She wasn’t even going to give me a name until I told her it was for you.”

Vivien smiled. “Otherwise you’re going to have me mopping and swabbing, and we both know just how unsatisfactory that would be.”

The rest of the morning was completely satisfactory from Vivien’s point of view. She and Melanie spent it sipping hot chocolate and munching on cookies in front of the fire while they watched first
Miracle on 34th Street
and then
National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
.

Before they knew it, it was time to shower and dress and clamber into the van for the drive to Magnolia Hall. They backed over the still-rolled-up newspaper at the foot of the driveway, having never even thought about bringing it in, let alone reading it. Which was why they arrived at Magnolia Hall happily festive and unreasonably optimistic. Which turned out to be a rather strategic mistake.