On Strike for Christmas (20 page)

Carol was actually relieved when she and Kay parted. Kay was like an overload of holiday joy, and she left Carol feeling drained. But not so drained that she was ready to pass up stopping by Ariel's house and dropping off the plastic tea set she'd gotten for Chloe during the afternoon shopping extravaganza. She'd had it wrapped right at the store, and its wrapping paper, covered with snowmen, was sure to put some holiday promise under Ariel's tree. After that, she'd back off, before they all became too attached to each other.

Ariel and Chloe had come to Carol's for hamburgers, then stayed to enjoy an old video of the Peanuts Christmas special that Carol had dug out. She'd watched them go down her front walk toward Ariel's battered car and felt a surge of joy that countered the bittersweet tug on her heart.

That surge, she realized, was becoming addicting. But not so addicting that she wanted to enter much further into a friendship that would only last until Ariel moved back home. And certainly not so addicting that she was going to go be a third wheel at someone's holiday gathering or wear a Christmas red sweater she'd been harassed into buying.

It was a little after five when she got to Ariel's and discovered the girl wasn't alone. Darren had dropped by to fix a leaky sink that Ariel's apartment manager had been avoiding for the last week. Of course, she should have recognized his truck parked at the curb. Dumb.

“How's that for weird? Two visitors in one day,” Ariel said. “It's cosmic or something.”

Or something, Carol thought. She pushed the present at Ariel. “I really can't stay. I just came to drop this by.”

“Can't you just stay for a few minutes?” Ariel pleaded. “Chloe will want to see you.”

Just then Chloe came rushing up, no longer shy, arms outstretched, calling her name.

So, of course, Carol had to pick her up. Was there anything in the world that felt as wonderful as having a child in your arms?

“Come on in,” Ariel said. “Have dinner. I've got Hamburger Helper. There's plenty.”

Ariel had already shut the door behind them and was moving Carol into the small living room, which was furnished with thrift store bargains. The huge tree they had decorated dwarfed the room. Memory rushed Carol and clutched her heart at the sight of her ornaments hanging on it.

“You're good to go,” Darren said, walking into the room, wiping his hands on a towel. He stopped at the sight of Carol, still holding Chloe. “Well, hi.”

Her heart suffered an assault of a different kind and kicked into high speed. “Hi.”

“I just asked Carol to stay for dinner. Can you stay, too?” Ariel asked him.

He looked at Carol and smiled. “Sure. I've got no plans.”

“I can't stay too long,” Carol said. “I'm going over to a friend's tonight.”

Darren looked disappointed.

“You're not going for dinner, are you?” Ariel asked

“No.”

“Then you've got to eat somewhere. It may as well be here. Want Carol to stay for dinner?” she asked her daughter.

Chloe's head bobbed up and down and she hugged Carol's neck.

“There you go. You have to stay.” Ariel slipped the package under the tree. “Sit down and I'll make us some tea. You like it plain, with no sugar, Carol. Right?”

Carol nodded. Chloe squirmed to get down, then followed her mother out of the room, leaving Carol to perch on the edge of the worn, plaid couch.

Darren took the other end and smiled at her. “So, were you out shopping today?” he asked, nodding at the package under the tree.

“I got a few things.”

“Getting ready for a big Christmas, then?”

“No, probably a quiet one. Most of the shopping I was doing today was for a friend who's going through chemo.”

“You're a good friend,” Darren observed.

“Oh, not just me. Several of us are teaming up to help her get through the holidays.”

“You're not one of the women who are on strike?”

Carol shook her head. “No, not me.”

“So, what are you doing for Christmas?” he asked.

Why did everyone keep asking her that? “My plans are still up in the air,” she answered. “How about you?”

“My son and his wife will probably come by later Christmas Day.” He shook his head. “They've got to hang out with her family, then see my ex and her new husband, then me. I think they're eating two Christmas dinners.”

“No dinner at your house?” Carol teased.

“I'm not much of a cook. I'll probably have a TV dinner. Turkey, of course,” he added with a smile.

A TV dinner—how sad was that?

“I never was much of a cook,” he added quickly as if that explained his pathetic dinner plans.

Just then Ariel returned with mugs of tea. “You guys talking about Christmas?”

Carol nodded. “What are you going to do?”

Ariel gave a half shrug. “My mom was going to fly me out for the holidays but I told her to save her money. She can't really afford to, and I'll be moving home after I finish school, anyway.” Chloe climbed up in her lap, and Ariel hugged her. “So, it's just us this Christmas.”

At least you have an “us,” Carol thought. And Darren had his son. Well, she had George the cat.

“I guess I'd better start dinner if you have to be someplace,” Ariel said, and got up.

The last thing Carol wanted was to be left on the couch with Darren. She might as well have been a teenage girl again, awkward and uncomfortable. “I'll help you,” she offered, and got up, too.

“Me, too,” he said. “I'm not much in the kitchen but I set a mean table.”

So she and Ariel worked companionably in the kitchen, preparing dinner, while Darren set the table. Dinner conversation was light, covering favorite TV shows, books, and movies, but Carol still found herself glad when the table was cleared and the dishes were washed. The way Darren kept looking at her, she was sure he was poised on the edge of some social invitation she wasn't ready for. Well, part of her was ready. Her body was practically whining for her to get her head together.

“I'm sorry to eat and run,” she told Ariel. “But I've got to get going. My friend's expecting me.”

Ariel nodded and plucked Chloe from her seat.

Ariel and Darren both wound up walking with her to the front door. “Say ‘bye,'” Ariel instructed Chloe, who laid her head on her mother's shoulder and murmured, “Bye.”

It felt a little like being a family, only without the parting hugs and kisses. Family, Carol thought wistfully as she went to her car. It was such an emotion-packed word, one easily taken for granted until life set a fuse to it.

You are not going there, she told herself firmly. Inside her car she flipped on the heat and turned the radio up full blast to drive away the despondent thoughts.

Several cars were already parked outside Jerri's house when Carol pulled up, and she realized she was the last to arrive.

The door flew open almost as soon as she rang the doorbell. There stood Kay in her new Christmas finery. “You made it. Here, give me your coat. Are you wearing your sweater?”

“No, sorry.” Carol shed her coat and Kay took it, looking disappointed. The general had failed in her mission. “I didn't have time to change,” Carol said. “I came here straight from somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else?” Kay teased. “Hey girls,” she called. “We're not number one on Carol's social calendar.”

“I don't even have a social calendar,” Carol said, walking into the living room where Jerri lay on the couch, covered with a blanket.

A candle burned on the coffee table, filling the room with the scent of bayberry, and a fire roared in the gas fireplace. The house felt like an Arizona summer.

“Joe said she gets cold easily,” Kay whispered.

Jerri looked so frail lying on the couch. A plate of Joy's Christmas cookies sat ignored on the coffee table in front of her. Chemo had already taken away her taste for sweets.

Her husband perched in a chair next to her like he was guarding her. Guard duty was clearly wearing him out. He'd lost weight even since Carol last saw him; his body seemed to hang on his tall skeleton like a suit in a closet. His swarthy face looked drawn and he had circles under his eyes.

“Hi, Joe,” Carol said, and he smiled and nodded a hello.

“Thanks for organizing this,” he said. “You guys are…” He stopped, choked up.

“We're fabulous, we know,” Sharon said from where she and Joy stood at the mantelpiece, draping it with gold netting, holly, and glittering pears and apples. Joy's face was flushed. Her sweater lay discarded on a nearby chair and she was holding netting with one hand and fanning herself with another. Poor Joy. This wasn't the place to be if your hormones were misfiring.

Carol didn't bother to offer to help with the decorating. The others had everything well in hand. Instead, she went to the couch where Jerri lay and perched at her feet, giving her leg a gentle pat. “How are you doing?”

“Great,” Jerri said, beaming. “Laura's in the kitchen heating soup. Thanks to you and Kay we've got presents under the tree for when the kids come Friday, and the house will be decorated. I'll even have cookies to serve.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You guys are the best.”

“What are friends for?” Carol said.

“I hear you're the mastermind behind this.”

Carol gave a one-shouldered shrug. “They were getting too obsessed with this strike. They needed to snap out of it.”

She looked over to where Sharon and Joy were chatting. Kay was fussing with the Christmas tree decorations. She'd heard. She just rolled her eyes and kept working.

“Are you sure you're going to feel up to having the kids over this Friday?” Carol asked Jerri. She looked at Joe, who shrugged as if to say, “What could I do?”

“Pretty soon I won't be able to see anybody because my immune system will be in bad shape, so it's Friday or not at all. I don't want to go through the holidays without seeing my family.”

Carol nodded her understanding and gave Jerri's leg another pat.

“Anyone want a sample of Joy's veggie soup?” Laura called from the kitchen.

Joy's face was flushed. “I'll pass,” she called.

Joe rubbed his hands together and smiled. “Homemade soup,
querida
. Doesn't that sound great?”

Jerri shook her head. “I'm not hungry right now.”

“You can't try a little?” he urged.

“Maybe later. You go have some, though. You need to keep up your strength.”

He nodded, then disappeared into the kitchen.

“How about you?” Jerri asked Carol. “Have you made plans for Christmas yet?”

“Oh, I have plenty of time for that,” Carol said evasively. She pretended to be absorbed with watching Sharon and Joy, but she could feel Jerri's gaze on her. “What?”

“Maybe someone else here needs to snap out of it.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” That had been the wrong thing to say because now Jerri would feel free to explain.

“I don't think our friends here are the only ones on strike for Christmas.”

Carol suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope. “Oh, don't be silly. Just because I didn't want to bother with putting up a tree.”

“Kay said you bought a new Christmas sweater today. Why aren't you wearing it?”

“I didn't have time to change. I was out somewhere and got delayed.”

“And what are you going to do on Christmas Day, sit home and watch
It's a Wonderful Life
on TV?”

“Good idea. I love that movie.”

“Even George Bailey rejoined the land of the living,” Jerri said gently. “Do you think Ray would want to see you like this? Do you think he wants you as dead as he is?”

Carol felt her friend's words like a sharp razor across tender skin. If anyone else had talked to her like that she'd have turned and walked away, but you didn't turn your back on a friend undergoing chemotherapy. Carol squirmed, looking for a way to change the subject.

Jerri pressed on. “Life's too short. Do you really want to live it in a way that you'll regret farther down the road when it's too late to change?”

Kay had drifted over to a nearby chair now. “Amen to that, sister. The time to make changes is now.”

“Nobody expects you to go out dancing,” Jerri added. “But maybe you could do something…”

Kay nodded toward the baby grand in the corner of Jerri's living room. “I know a good place to start. How about playing some Christmas songs for us? I know you play.”

Carol was hardly in the mood for Christmas songs. She wasn't in the mood to even be here now. “I don't play by ear,” she said stiffly.

“I think we've got an old Christmas songbook in the piano bench,” Jerri said. “Our daughter always plays them for us. Please,” she added. “I'd love to hear some nice music.”

Joe was back in the room now, carrying a bowl of soup.

“We've got a book of Christmas music, don't we?” Jerri asked him.

“Sure,” he said. He set down the soup and dug the book out of the piano bench.

Carol had no excuse now. Anyway, it would be rude to refuse her friend, especially when they'd come here for the express purpose of bringing Jerri some holiday cheer. And at least if they were singing, Jerri couldn't be lecturing.

She settled at the piano, and propped open the book Joe had found. “What do you want to hear?”

“‘Silver Bells,'” Kay requested.

Carol found it and started to play. She was no concert pianist, and her sight-reading skills were a little rusty, but no one seemed to care. They started humming along, and Kay drifted over to stand behind her, reading the words over her shoulder.

She poked Carol in the shoulder. “Sing with me.”

Carol obliged, although the saccharine lyrics about happy shoppers almost gagged her.