The Book of Someday (32 page)

Then she’s telling Livvi: “I’m glad you decided to stay with us for Christmas.”

“Are you sure I haven’t worn out my welcome?” Livvi asks. “I honestly thought I’d only be here for a couple of days, only as long as it took to go to the Literary Luncheon and have a quick meeting with my editor, but—”

“—but every day, either David or I have managed to find a way to keep you from leaving.” Evelyn has slipped her arm around Livvi and is giving her a quick hug. “I’ve loved having you here with me.”

There’s a hint of wistfulness in Evelyn’s voice when she adds: “That’s one of the downsides of old age, it can get a little bit lonely.”

Livvi is surprised by this. “But David is in and out of here all day. He has coffee with you every morning.”

Evelyn’s laugh is merry, spontaneous. “He’s here because you’re here, Livvi. David is a devoted grandson but his life is in the city. The only reason he’s twenty minutes away, suddenly busy fixing up that old beach cottage, is because he wants to be near you. He inherited that place from a miserable old aunt who passed away years ago—this is the first time he’s set foot in it since her funeral.”

Evelyn is moving away from Livvi, as if she wants to observe Livvi’s reaction while she’s saying: “David is in love with you. You do know that, don’t you?”

There’s a flutter in Livvi. For a moment she isn’t in the kitchen anymore. She’s at the bottom of the stairs hearing David’s voice—
“I spend my life thinking about you.”
And she’s feeling that unexpected stir of desire. The desire to be kissed by him, and to touch him.

“Livvi? Did you hear what I said?” Evelyn asks.

Livvi nods. She has gone to sit at the kitchen table and is running her hand over its surface—wood worn smooth by the generations who have gathered around it to rejoice. And to grieve. To grow up and to grow old.

The knowledge that she may one day be invited into this house as part of this family and the feeling that she has no right to that invitation are making Livvi heartsick. As she’s explaining to Evelyn: “There’s someone else.”

Evelyn takes the chair beside Livvi’s and says: “Earlier this week when you asked if it was all right to have a package delivered to you at this address, did that have anything to do with the someone else?”

“In a way. He has a little girl, Grace. Her nanny sent me a text that Grace wanted to mail me a Christmas present.”

The thought of Grace, and of how much Livvi loves her, and of how far away she is, is bringing tears to Livvi’s eyes.

“This man, Grace’s father,” Evelyn says. “Do you love him?”

“I’m not sure. I used to. Without question. But I haven’t loved him that way for a while. The way I love him now is different. It’s complicated.”

“Why are the two of you not together at Christmas?”

“He’s in Bermuda with his family. He’s still married, and his wife is very upset. He doesn’t live with her but…”

Livvi isn’t sure how to finish—there seems to be no way to tell the story and have it make any sense.

“I’ve heard you at night, crying out in your sleep,” Evelyn says. “Is he the reason?”

Livvi shakes her head. “No, it’s a nightmare I have sometimes. I see a woman with a silver gown and dark hair. And red, red lipstick. There’s something horrifying about her and I don’t know what it is.”

Granger, the little dog, has jumped into Livvi’s lap and is laying his head on Livvi’s arm while Evelyn is saying: “I can only guess the nightmares you must have lived through.”

Evelyn sees Livvi’s surprised look and tells her: “I read your book. I’m eighty-nine, and I’ve figured out some things along the way. The pain, the level of loss in that book, was too raw. Too clear. It couldn’t have simply been imagined, you had to have lived it.”

Evelyn takes Livvi’s hands in hers and holds them tightly. “It’s such a terrible thing. No one deserves such a beginning.”

“And I can’t get away from it,” Livvi says. “I feel like there’s a part of me that’s broken, and ugly, because of where I came from. Because of the things I learned there.”

Livvi is aching as she’s asking: “Evelyn, how does God decide? How does he choose who to bless and who to punish? Why did he say to your children, ‘I want you to be born into light and love,’ and say to me, ‘For you, I want darkness. I want your mother to run away and never look back. For you, I want pain you’ll never forget.’”

Evelyn puts her arms around Livvi and holds her. “No one knows the answer to that question. But I suspect that God, and the lives we’re born into, are far more complicated than we can understand. Perhaps this life isn’t what we think it is. Maybe it doesn’t begin with our birth and end with our death. Maybe it’s only a fraction of some larger story. And it doesn’t contain enough information for us to really know, for sure, about God’s love, or God’s fairness.”

Evelyn again takes Livvi’s hand. “Deciding what sort of story is being told by our time on earth might be like looking at a few seconds of an intricately made movie. And assuming we know all there is to know from having glimpsed only that tiny snippet. It’s entirely possible we were somewhere else before we were born, and we’ll be somewhere else after we die. And what appears to be senseless and unfair to us now may, in a larger context, take on quite a different meaning.”

Evelyn stops and wipes away Livvi’s tears. “No matter how painful your life has been, you have the choice to learn from your past and then leave it. You have the choice. Every day. To love and be loved. To find your purpose. To work and to give. And to shape your world into something that’s quite remarkable.”

The kiss that Evelyn places on Livvi’s cheek is light and quick. “I’ve been watching you carefully in the time you’ve been here—and I know the person you are. You didn’t come away from your beginnings broken, or ugly. Miraculously…you’ve come away strong and filled with love. Find your purpose, Livvi. Use the power of your love to fulfill it.”

After a while, when there doesn’t seem to be anything more to say, Evelyn leaves and goes into the dining room to arrange the place cards for Christmas Eve dinner. Livvi stays at the kitchen table. Thinking about the things that Evelyn has told her. Thinking about loving and being loved. About Andrew. And Grace. She’s thinking about the past, and about the future. And she’s thinking about David.

***

Being a part of David’s family Christmas Eve dinner has been like stepping into a fantasy for Livvi. Every moment of it could have been taken from a greeting card. The long dining room table with its white lace cloth and shining silver. The centerpiece of scarlet roses. The heirloom wine glasses, artfully mismatched, sparkling in the light of ivory-colored candles. The dinner—Evelyn’s beef bourguignon and a butter lettuce salad scattered with candied walnuts and pomegranate seeds. The dessert—little, sugar-frosted ginger cakes.

All night long—the laughter of a big, close-knit family. Countless bits of conversation beginning with the phrase “Remember the fun we had when…” And the members of this same lovely family raising their glasses in a toast: “To Livvi, welcome!”

And as dinner was ending, there was Livvi catching sight of David’s smile—and experiencing a happiness that could hardly be contained.

It’s the same happiness that Livvi is experiencing now, when dinner is over, and she and David and his family are in Evelyn’s living room, decorating the Christmas tree that’s just been brought in from the outside. A tree that is snow-dusted and cold—filling the air with the smell of fresh pine.

David’s mother, a woman with violet-colored eyes and a charming openness, is layering the tree with garlands of golden ribbon while she’s saying: “Having you with us tonight is a treat. I hope you come back often.”

David’s sister, a pretty, young wife and mother, is calling out: “If you’re in the city next week, Livvi, and in the mood to go shopping, let me know. I’ll show you where all the good sales are.”

David’s father, affable and ruddy-faced, is near the fireplace with two of David’s uncles—in a lively discussion about politics and sports. Several of David’s aunts are nearby, exchanging pictures of children and grandchildren.

David is in a circle of cousins playing a boisterous game of Trivial Pursuit, talking about getting together in Manhattan tomorrow for their long-standing Christmas tradition, brunch at the Plaza and then ice skating in Central Park.

Evelyn, as she’s passing Livvi, is whispering: “Merry Christmas, sweet girl.”

I’m in a dream,
Livvi is thinking.
And
I
don’t ever want to wake up.

But someone is tapping on her shoulder. Calling her away from the dream and back to reality. One of David’s nephews, a bashful middle-schooler, is informing Livvi: “There’s a person at the front door asking for you.”

While she’s walking toward the door, Livvi is assuming this must be a mistake. She doesn’t know anyone on Long Island other than the people in this house, and no one outside of this house knows her.

But then.

Livvi sees who it is that’s waiting for her. And she is flabbergasted.

It’s Bree, Grace’s nanny. Saying: “I wanted to make sure this was the right place.”

Livvi has no idea what Bree is talking about—but she’s noticing that a cab is idling in the driveway.

“I wanted to make sure this was the right address.” Bree glances at the cab then back at Livvi. “It’s been hell. Andrew brought up the divorce the minute we got to Bermuda. Kayla has been screaming at him ever since.”

Bree glances at the cab again. “This is my Christmas present to Grace.”

Livvi’s heart leaps. “Grace is here?”

“Yeah. We hopped a ride on the family plane. I’m kind of dating the pilot. It was like a two-hour flight. No big deal.”

“And all of this was okay with Andrew? And Grace’s mother?”

“Actually, I didn’t tell anybody we were coming.”

Livvi can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“It’s okay. I left a note.” Bree is shrugging, making an exasperated palms-up gesture. “When he finds it, Andrew will be glad Gracie’s with you. The grandparents’ll huff and puff—for like half an hour. And Kayla will say all the right ‘concerned mommy’ things and basically not give a shit. She’ll probably do a little secret dance. Like I told you, all she really cares about is being with Andrew. And now she gets to have him all to herself for Christmas Day. She’ll love it.”

“Bree, are you sure…?”

“Hey. Other than Andrew, the only person raising Grace for the last three years has been me. It’s why her mother hired a full-time, live-in nanny. She’s too busy being rich and crazy to worry about where her kid is.” There is a triumphant defiance in Bree as she adds: “Even if I get fired for this, it’ll be worth it. Because tomorrow morning Gracie’s gonna have exactly what she wanted for Christmas. She’ll be waking up someplace happy, with you.”

Livvi is already running to the cab.

She’s opening the rear door, eagerly reaching for Grace, who’s curled up on the backseat, fast asleep.

David is in the entryway of the house. Calling to Livvi, asking: “What’s going on? What is it…?”

Livvi is gathering Grace into her arms—telling him: “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

***

After taking Grace from the backseat of the cab the rest of the night passes in a blur, events flashing by like falling dominos.

…Livvi tucking Grace, half-asleep, into the four-poster bed in Evelyn’s guest room. The small, cozy place where Livvi has been staying for the past week.

…Grace’s eyes fluttering open, and, for the briefest of moments, that solemn, earnest look of worry and concern. Then—as Grace understands that it’s Livvi who is there—the dreamy smile. And Grace’s slow drift back into sleep.

…The call from Andrew. The sound of his voice, hoarse and distraught. His words a rushed tumble of emotion. “Olivia, I’ve been worried out of my mind. Since you went to New York, you haven’t returned a single phone call. I’m glad Grace is with you. She needs you. I need you. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before. I’ll make all of this up to you. I give you my word. Don’t throw me away. Just don’t throw me away.”

…The sense of safety in that four-poster bed—lying with Grace snuggled close. Listening to the tick and sigh of the fire that David has laid in the little fireplace in the corner. Hearing him say, “Sweet dreams, Livvi,” as he’s preparing to drive away into the winter night.

…The sound of Evelyn’s murmur at the door. Just before dawn. Asking, “Livvi, are you awake?” Evelyn in the glow of the firelight. Looking like a Christmas sprite with her white hair and holly-green bathrobe. Holding a pair of gossamer butterfly wings that are shimmering and pale-pink. Telling Livvi, “These are for Grace, from Santa.” And then, with a twinkle in her eye, saying, “I have glitter and glue and know how to use them. But I promise you, these are straight from the North Pole.”

…Evelyn wanting to know if Livvi has slept. Livvi looking down at Grace, nestled at her side. Saying, “I’m too happy to sleep.” Evelyn gently advising Livvi, “You have a lot to sort out.” Livvi murmuring, “I don’t know where to begin.” Evelyn saying, “A nice, long walk is where I always used to begin.”

…Evelyn pulling a chair close to the bed. Taking Grace’s hand with a carefully light touch. Ensuring that Grace’s sleep will be undisturbed. And whispering, “I’ll watch over her, you go…”

These are the images flowing through Livvi’s mind as she’s jogging the quiet streets that are leading her away from the serenity and safety of Evelyn’s home.

Dawn has broken and Livvi is moving briskly toward the rising sun, the light of the new day, a silver-white gleam. Her face is tingling with the Christmas cold. Her breath leaving puffs of fog in the morning air.

She’s entering the town’s business district. Slowing her pace to a walk as she’s coming onto Main Street.

The storefronts are charming. Each one scrubbed and pretty. Dressed in pine boughs and plaid ribbons. Livvi is passing a drugstore and a real estate office. And a brick-fronted restaurant decorated with wreaths of sparkling pin-lights.