Page 57 of Season of Gifts

“He’s the client.His company, I mean.Nothiscompany, but the company he works for.”Inside-Alice had gotten out-loud Alice all frazzled.She heaved a sigh ofsome guy I haven’t seen in seven years is fucking with my life.Elephants at the zoo sighed more quietly.“I basically answer to him for as many days as it takes to track down and fix a thingamabob.”

“Ohh, the thingamabob.”Ollie nodded as they traded grins.Sisters didn’t inflict their own sphere of technobabble on each other.“I’m sorry, Allie.That would piss me right the hell off.”

“It’s not great, yeah.”Although the airport hadn’t been too bad.And she could avoid future awkward one-on-one meetings with Adam if Wade kept up the dad attitude.“But I think my boss is actually going to run interference.”

Ollie exaggerated a skeptical pullback from the phone.“A boss who doesn’t suck?”

“I know, right?”Messaging Ollie had been the right call.She just needed to talk through the Adam thing before bed, and she’d sleep like a log.“Must be a Christmas miracle.”

“You know…” Tugging the corner of her lip into her mouth, Ollie swayed back and forth.Sometimes she looked so much like old pictures of Mom.Same hair, same eyes, same heart-shaped face.“Mom would love to see you.At least think about it?That would be her Christmas miracle.”

Fuck.She should’ve just gone through the file again and turned on the hotel TV and zoned out like a normal person.This communication stuff was exhausting.

“Ollie…”

“No pressure, I swear.Just think about it.I talked to her last month to get those photos of you for Jay’s gift, and I just…” Her little sister shrugged, chewing her lip again.She used to make it bleed as a kid when shit hit the fan.Scared or anxious or whatever, and suddenly a trickle of blood would be running down her chin.“Seeing you in person would mean everything to her, Allie.”

“I’ll think about it.”But she pushed out of the nest of pillows and headed for the bathroom.“I need to brush my teeth.Tell me about what’s going on with you.We didn’t get to talk Sunday.”

Yesterday.Sunday was yesterday.Lunch with Jay’s brother had been yesterday.The whole last week had been jet-propelled.

As she got ready for bed, they chatted about things that were not Henry’s absence or Jay’s abandonment or Adam’s bullshit or Mom and Dad’s proximity.So mostly about Ollie.And when she finally slipped under the covers, Ollie tucked her in from two thousand miles away, give or take.“Goodnight, munchkin.I love you.”

She scooched the phone onto the nightstand and clicked off the light.Even with her eyes closed, her brain barreled ahead, a train hurtling cross-country in the middle of the night.Someday maybe the cargo cars wouldn’t all be labeledways I’m fucking up with people I love.Henry spoke to his mom all the time.Visited her several times a year.Jay’s relationship with his mom had way too many asterisks beside it to be a good model.And never ever, not ever, did she want Ollie getting the call that something bad had happened at home.Alice was the big sister; that was her job.Her scattered phone calls over the years didn’t add up to seeing Mom in person.Ten years.More.She should at least try.

Except she couldn’t just drop everything here to visit Mom any more than she could’ve at home to be by Henry’s side while he supported his own mom.Her mother-in-law, for chrissake.If she’d taken days off last week for a family emergency, the bosses might not have even considered her for this trip.Then she wouldn’t be facing Adam’s bullshit or big life questions about what she owed her parents.Hindsight was a bitch.Wheels within wheels, all turning in ways to fuck her up, just like whatever had gone wrong at the factory and left dozens of guys like Dad idling at home, worrying their Christmas pay would be short.Work had to be top priority, because getting home to Henry and Jay would be contingent on fixing whatever her team had messed up, even if on paper the design was flawless.The wrongness wasn’t visible from a distance, but once she got up close and personal, she’d sort it out.

Chapter twenty-nine

Henry

Theworldblurredandslowed with the creeping destruction of overly diluted watercolors.Moment bled into moment as the ambulance crew lifted Mother from the daybed to the rolling gurney—so slight, her lips a dusky blue before a medic slipped an oxygen mask over her mouth.Henry lost his hold on her fingers, cold and slack and terrifyingly familiar.

“Mrs.Webb?Can you hear me, Helen?”

A penlight flashed across Mother’s face.Perhaps only a trick of the light made her eyes huge, fearful, as she labored to breathe.Her rattling rasp had woken him.She could hardly form his name; no sound emerged when she tried to speak.

The crew raced through the hall, their cargo far too delicate for such speed and far too precious for wasted seconds.

Henry kept well back, out of the way, though Lina wasn’t here to hold his shoulders this time.“It’s all right, Henry.Let them work.We’ll follow in the car.”

The flashing lights whirled in the driveway.The siren had brought a handful of neighbors to their doorsteps, porch lights flicking on at half past one in the morning as he stood in his matching pajama set, the sort Jay insisted only grandparents wore.

He returned inside and closed the door with a softclick.Clothes first.He couldn’t follow to the hospital without proper clothes.A numb lassitude seeped into his limbs.His body had grown heavy, his brain thick with the syrupy paralysis of shock.

If he believed in such things, he’d label the conservatory ill-omened.Thirty-two years ago, he’d come flying into the room, running in the house though it wasn’t allowed, eager to tell Mother of some trifling accomplishment at school he couldn’t now remember.But she’d been lying on the tile as if she’d fallen from her chair, one arm outstretched, her eyes closed, her face still, and he’d shouted for Lina with all the volume his seven-year-old lungs could muster.He’d torn the sleeve on his jacket fighting with the fabric as he yanked it off and threw it over Mother’s chest, curling his body behind hers, desperate to make her warm.Wake up!Wake up, Mother!

His fingers stumbled down the row of buttons on the front of his pajamas as he climbed to his bedroom.His things were there, his bag at the end of the bed though he’d slept only a few nights in the room before Mother’s discharge from the hospital.

Pants.Shirt.Socks.Shoes would be downstairs, lined up neatly by the front door.He’d tracked snow in the house with his bare feet from watching the ambulance depart.Narrow, elongated puddles marked the path between the stairs and the front hall.

The drive took no time at all, the streets empty, the moon drifting toward the horizon.Just as well, since he’d nearly run two stop signs as if he’d never driven the route to the hospital before.

Stale coffee and fear sweat soured in his nostrils as he entered the waiting room.He’d carried his coat in his arm.Neglected to put it on.That wasn’t like him, not at all.He identified himself at the desk and prowled along the windows.The lighting reflected the interior, broken up in places by the outdoor security lights and the patches of sidewalk they illuminated.So many lights to keep the dark at bay.But it lurked regardless.

His phone rested in his pocket.He had no cause to wake Alice or Jay yet.No news to give them, nothing but his own fears and ghosts.Better that they sleep through the night.A hypocrite’s rationalization; were they to experience distress at any time of day or night, he would insist they alert him immediately.But that was his role.To come as close to omniscience as humanly possible.To weave every detail into a dazzlingly clear picture so that he might anticipate and nullify negative outcomes.

His head throbbed in time with his steps.

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