Page 89 of Season of Gifts

They had arrived home too late for proper tea, as expected.He prepared dinner while reporting what he’d picked up from the butcher and the grocer.Mother grimaced her way through an herbal tea.That battle he’d partially won; she could have a single cup of caffeinated tea per day, but not within two hours of taking her pill each morning.

After dinner, they decamped from the kitchen to the music room.She fared better inside, with surer steps and quieter lungs.

“Did they give you an ETA, darling?”Like a child awaiting Santa Claus, Mother labored mightily to remain awake for Alice and Jay’s arrival.A folded blanket doubly covered her lap.“Shall we have a dessert tray waiting?”

“Late, I’m afraid.”The most recent message from Alice indicated a traffic jam on the interstate.Hardly unexpected for the Friday night before the holiday, even before adding the possibility of accidents.Tomorrow would have been more of the same.“After ten, certainly.Shall we go upstairs now, and I’ll read to you for a while?You know your greetings and embraces will be equally well received in the morning when all of you are fresh from a night’s sleep.”

“Alice flew in from the Midwest this morning, you said?”She ignored his suggestion wholesale.Well.It was but eight thirty; he would gently try again later.“Poor girl.She’ll be exhausted by the time she arrives.”

Alice and Jay arriving exhausted would be simpler, uncharitable though the thought was.Today had presented an unceasing string of appointments and errands.Tomorrow would require he be his usual self, and he as yet had no manner of ensuring that outcome.If his spouses collapsed into sleep upon arrival, all the better.“She may nap in the car; it seems Jay is driving.”

“He’s such a sweet boy.”Mother clicked her tongue.“And I haven’t a single Christmas cookie in the house for him yet.I’ve missed the cookie swap entirely this year.”Her questioning glance rolled toward the kitchen.“I don’t suppose—”

“Not tonight, Mother.”A paltry three days since her last emergency rush to the hospital.Having her mixing thick dough?Fighting with the rolling pin?Carrying heavy trays, hovering over the hot oven—not tonight or any night while he was here.“Why don’t we discuss it tomorrow as a family?”

A few stern words to Alice and Jay about Mother’s current capacity would present him with more leverage to enforce her rest and recovery.

By nine thirty, after an update from Alice with copious apologies extending their arrival time to eleven or thereabouts, Mother consented to begin preparing for sleep.Once in bed, with the covers tucked neatly around her and Henry reading from the first of Gerald Durrell’s lighthearted adventures in Corfu, she drifted off within minutes.He read several pages further to be certain, then placed a bookmark at the earlier position and laid the book aside.

Elevated on a slope built of four pillows, Mother breathed steadily, her face turned slightly toward him.He’d silenced his phone; checking revealed no new messages.He composed a brief missive for Alice, informing her that Mother was sleeping and asking for a notification when they were fifteen minutes from the house.That would be sufficient warning to illuminate the path to the front door for them and prevent any ringing of the bell.

Working backward through the day, he ensured nothing had been left undone.Lina had been updated about the Saturday situation and kindly offered to be on standby should anything else arise.The nursing service had been instructed to consider part-time and drop-in candidates for specific tasks in addition to full-time care, with any interviews to be scheduled after the holiday.The tickets for theNutcrackerhad been reassigned to Robert’s family.

A twinge of disappointment plucked beneath his ribs.Experiencing the familiar ballet through Alice and Jay’s fresh eyes would have added a delightful dimension to the outing.Beyond that, ballet—dance of most any sort, truly—provided an aesthetic release, emotion through form and movement, the flowing rhythm he could capture but one frame at a time on canvas.The glory of the human body and its expression of inner joy and turmoil—those could be shown in total on stage, wordlessly, whether dancers rose on silent feet or floggers descended like striking falcons.

But even that respite would have been impossible with Mother’s current state.How could he sink into enjoyment of any diversion when she might need him at any moment?

At ten thirty-five, he roused himself from the chair and ghosted out the door into the darkened hallway.The moon, less than full but greater than half, spilled light through the windows around and above the front door as he crossed above the entryway.His bedroom at the opposite end of the hall would be in fine condition; he’d not slept even once in the sheets on the bed now.The addition of a few more towels to the bath would suffice.

With the bedside lamp on, he tidied his things and removed his traveling bag to the closet.Alice would have the next week’s clothes with her.They would have to decide what to do about the rental car.They were unlikely to need it while in town, but—

But if he needed to stay beyond the week, it would be useful for sending them both home before their jobs demanded their attention once more.

Beyond the week.Into the new year.He sank heavily on the bed and rested his elbows on his knees, smoothing his hands over his face and into his hair.This hadn’t been the plan.He’d been so detailed, so methodical—so certain of presenting Alice and Jay with the holiday season they deserved, every night made for memories.

At this very moment, he ought to be lying in front of a cheerily burning fireplace, having thoroughly exhausted his spouses with his inventiveness and passion, and be contemplating doing so again until the last embers cooled.Or watching Alice astride Jay as the firelight silhouetted their bodies, sketching their shifting shapes and drawing in their pleasure.

What did he offer instead?Sleepless nights, a nonexistent libido, and a baby monitor that consumed his focus.

Had he even included the Advent calendar on Alice’s packing list?No, no, he hadn’t thought of it.They certainly couldn’t go back for it now.He would simply have to announce the activities each morning.The intent in the final few days before Christmas had been to give Alice and Jay a family experience with Mother.They could have that still, even if ice skating would no longer be suitable.The piano lesson in carols, perhaps, if Mother could sit comfortably with her back unsupported.If not, he would have to recall his lessons himself, which might prove amusing for everyone save him.

His phone vibrated against his leg.Alice and Jay were nearly here.He turned down the sheets and left the pillows for them to sort as they wished.Lights on, yes, and in the hall as well, to facilitate the quiet movement of luggage.The wall sconces gave a gentle golden glow.Mother’s door was shut; her breathing remained steady and audible through the monitor.Down the stairs he went, the entry tile chillier than the hardwood or the carpet runner beneath his feet.Shoes.Shoes would be appropriate, should he need to assist Jay with the bags.

He illuminated the drive and the walkway, then sat and donned his shoes.He watched from the window beside the door.Pacing would create unnecessary sounds.At ten after eleven, headlights appeared in the drive.A white minivan parked alongside his black sedan.Had they suddenly acquired children?Were Will and Emma joining them on an unannounced mission to set him straight?

Jay flew around the front of the vehicle and opened Alice’s door.The muffled slams ought to be fine; no change registered in Mother’s breathing.

Henry stepped out onto the stoop, one hand on the door handle, as they approached.

“Come in, come in,” he called quietly, the air puffing with his breath.His spouses carried no bags, but perhaps they needed the facilities before emptying the car.“Mother is asleep, though she sends her love.”He stepped inside, holding the door open.“The powder room down the hall is available, and of course the bedroom has been made up for guests—”

“Psst, husband.”Alice rubbed the front of his shirt as she stepped in past him and tilted her head toward Jay.“We’ve barely seen you in two weeks.Hugs first, okay?”

He pivoted and swept Jay into his arms, the lesson in emotional etiquette landing with a solidthunkin his belly.On any typical day, he wouldn’t have needed to be told such a thing.He would have prepared for his spouses’ emotional arrival as much as their physical one.Today he’d spared them no such thoughts.“Certainly.I do apologize.The day has been lengthy.”

Jay, trembling, fitted himself to Henry with an athlete’s strength.“We’re here to help.Whatever you need done, I can do it.Just tell me, and I’m on it.”

Would that he had a list of a thousand tasks enumerated.But the last two weeks had been lived hour by hour.A task that made sense in the morning might be irrelevant by lunchtime.Inventing busywork for Jay would tax his already limited mental resources.Could he develop something overnight?“Thank you, Jay, yes, perhaps tomorrow.You’ll undoubtedly wish to bring in the bags first.”

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