Page 74 of Season of Gifts

“Ah, but I’m not ready to hearfrailyet, Henry.”A tremor slipped into Mother’s voice, a haunting lilt of sincerity in what she’d likely intended as a joke.“Now, what can we do about my goal?”

He had no answer; perhaps no answer would assuage the hypervigilance assailing him.Though naming the foe was an excellent first step.He could acknowledge his, ahem, perhaps overzealous protective instincts.“Another goal might be a better test case upon which to quiz Nurse Alden, Mother.”

“No, not at all.”The nurse gestured with both hands, a delightful bit of symmetry.“That’s actually a very common request.In this case, I would think fulfilling it would be fairly uncomplicated—hiring a full-time, live-in caretaker is usually sufficient, and you’ve wisely embarked on that plan.”

“Have I?”Mother’s eye twitched.

He ought to have discussed the situation more extensively with her prior to the interviews.“There are, of course, many options—”

“Nurse Alden, I do apologize, but could we continue this at another time?”Mother politely covered her mouth as she credibly induced a yawn.“You’ve been wonderful, but I am a bit worn out.Life is an endless series of naps, I fear.”

And so he ushered out their second prospect, one who’d been doing quite well until that point.

“A full-time, live-in nurse?”Hands clenched into fists in her lap, Mother tracked him with her eyes as he returned and occupied the seat so recently vacated by their would-be aide.“I am not an invalid, Henry.You’ve heard everything from the medical team that I have.If I take my medication, eat healthy meals, and undertake light exercise in moderation, I will have no more trouble now than I did before this accursed attack.”

He had heard all she had heard, yes, and more, and likely digested more of it at the time than she had.No more trouble,pishposh.The survival rates for patients with heart failure began looking less and less rosy five years on.Gambling with her health now would be foolish.Unconscionable.“They also said you ought not live alone.”

She dismissed his fears with a wave of her hand, quick as a startled bird abandoning a perch.“I have no need for a constant nursemaid.My condition is not so advanced.A simple companion will do.A few hours a week.”

Simple.The companion need only be strong to lift Mother if she grew dizzy and fell.Gentle to help her with balance and bathing.Have training in nutrition and emergency care.Be persistent enough to persuade Mother to take frequent breaks rather than standing for long painting sessions.Be forceful enough to insist upon carrying the watering can for Mother’s daily rounds in the conservatory.Be patient and socially astute enough to accompany her to various meetings for philanthropic causes and social clubs.Simple, of course.An emotional support cat would suffice, undoubtedly.

“That will not be enough, Mother.”Managing the house would put her out of breath in minutes.A shower could make her dizzy; a bath would leave her struggling to stand.Her social circle would close, her daily life grow small and dim, her mood shift like a stormy sea.“How will you manage?”

“I suppose I will manage as I have done these years since your father’s passing—with the sturdy Bennett backbone I was born with.”Shoulders squared, voice hoarse, she pinned him under the new growth of spring in her eyes.“I am not inviting a stranger to count my breaths every hour, Henry.I won’t have it.”

“Nothing so intrusive.”Composure faltering, he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth.Had she grown tired of him watching over her?He must push on to show her the importance of a full-time aide, but an argument would risk more strain on her heart.His own had been pounding for minutes.Her medication would be keeping hers partially in check, but a raging storm would overwhelm it all the same.“What of everyday tasks?Your watering can for the garden, your seeds for the bird feeders—the milk for your tea.You’re not to lift anything strenuous, and the medical team’s definition of strenuous is a gallon of milk, Mother.Eight pounds at most.”

Breathing slowly and deeply, she smoothed her slacks and plucked a white hair from the fabric.“I could hardly drink a gallon of milk before it went off, Henry.I’ll buy a quart and be just fine.”She pushed off the settee and stood before he could reach her to assist.She nodded with a quiethmph,her eyebrow defiantly raised.“Now, when is Robert coming by for tea?Let’s put a tray together.”

The table had been set in the conservatory when Robert arrived.Mother had insisted on taking part in the preparation, though she consented to allow Henry to carry the dishes from kitchen to table.

Leaving her ensconced in a cushioned seat, he greeted his brother at the door.“It’s been some time.I look forward to seeing how the boys have grown this past year.”

“It’s astonishing how fast they age.”Robert shook out his coat and hung it in the closet, tucking his scarf around the hanger and his driving gloves in the pocket.“Though I suppose we grew equally fast.Mother said at Thanksgiving that you married the man you’ve been seeing—and a woman as well?”He straightened his tie, his teatime attire far more formal than Henry’s open collar and marine blue knit vest.“This must be a strain, being apart as newlyweds.I’m sorry we missed the happy day.”

Mother hadn’t mentioned that conversation.Though perhaps she would only have thought to tell him if she hadn’t informed Robert.His sister-in-law hadn’t said anything on their calls, but those were tightly focused on Mother’s health and the best timing for the family’s Christmas gathering.“I—yes, we—”

“Are we in the conservatory today?Or the music room?”Robert swept out of the entryway and into the hall.

“The conservatory.”Henry increased his pace to catch up.“And yes, you’ll meet Alice and Jay next week.They’ll arrive over the weekend; work has kept them busy.The distance has been a challenge, though I expect one you know well.”

Robert grunted agreement.“The conference timing was unfortunate, although—” He strode in among the greens, arrowing straight toward Mother.“I’m pleased to see you up and about.”Hugging her lightly as she gripped her chair with one hand, Robert kissed her cheeks.“I suppose you’ll be wanting to go ice skating tomorrow, and snowshoeing the day after that, hmm?”

“I’ll leave that to you and your boys, dear.Sit, sit.”Mother reclaimed her seat, waving them both down.“I shall enthusiastically sketch your adventures from a sleigh with heated blankets.My grandmother used to tell sleighing stories from her girlhood.But tell me about Constance and the boys.”

Robert dutifully updated them on the family while Henry poured boiling water from the electric kettle over the infusers in each cup.He’d weighted the food toward savory, as Mother wasn’t to be indulging in too many sweets.

“—the school break.Robert will be off to the academy in two more years, which seems impossible, and yet here we are.They’re both eagerly awaiting Christmas with their grandmother.”

“With the gifts Santa brings, I expect.”

“Constance has suitcases packed full of them, ready to smuggle into the car and deploy under the tree.Are we relocating this year?I didn’t see one in the music room on the way in.”

“We’ll be fetching a tree over the weekend.”The decorating would be a scramble to finish before Robert’s family arrived Tuesday afternoon, but Jay would be an immense help with that project.The work would be an excellent outlet for his service energy, and directing between naps could prove a valuable distraction for Mother.“Not to worry, all will be as usual for the holiday.We’re a bit behind schedule, as you might expect.”

Mother sipped her tea and grimaced.Lifting the infuser from her side saucer by its chain, she settled it gently back into her cup.“I ought to have let that steep longer, or added more leaves.I fear I’ve made a weak tea.It’s quite flat on the tongue.”

Henry shifted the small milk pitcher closer to her plate.“Try adding milk for the fat; that ought to improve the mouth feel.It’s decaffeinated tea, Mother.”

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