Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

CATE

T he room was pitch dark when Cate woke up the next morning. And it was freezing in the master bedroom. She eyed the fireplace with longing, but it probably hadn’t been used in ages. She’d have to ask Izzy about it. Huddled under her covers, she tried to remember if this bedroom had a separate thermostat, but she didn’t think so. Maybe it was out in the hall. Hanging her head over the edge of the bed, she eyed the hardwood floors. Worn Oriental runners were placed here and there but the hardwood floors that her father would never cover with carpeting looked mighty cold this morning. Had she remembered to bring her bright pink fluffy slippers? Packing had called for a lot of decisions.

Her eyes adjusting to the darkness, Cate snuggled back into the pillows and breathed in the lavender Isabel kept in her linen closet. How wonderful to be at Sunnycrest for Christmas. Cate loved getting caught up in the complicated lives of her nieces. These were the years when they were effortlessly attractive and active without worries about their health. Although they might not realize it, they were living the dream. But Isabel and Samantha were still trying to figure out what that dream was. And wasn’t that exciting? But painful too.

The look on Samantha’s face when she’d told Cate about Kurt and their divorce had haunted her dreams. How sad. At least Isabel had been brave enough to make her dream of having a child happen. Well, with a little help from Aunt Cate and she’d been glad to give it.

Samantha and Kurt? They'd always seemed good together, although she hadn't seen them together in recent years. Cate had always thought they had it all. She’d been in their home and it was gorgeous. The kitchen had two long islands to accommodate caterers for all the parties they hosted. When you had your own business, that’s what you did.

And now what? That was the painful question she’d seen on Samantha’s face last night. What would she do now? Well, she’d figure it out. Sam always did. And she seemed quite smitten with Isabel’s baby. No recriminations or disapproval for her sweet sister. And why would there be? That baby was darling. And Isabel seemed so capable and happy as a mother.

Even in this dim light, Cate could see a picture of her sister’s family on the dressing table. She didn’t need to have the silver frame in her lap to remember that picture. She had a copy of it at home on her own dressing table. The smiling family had been gathered around the firepit in the backyard of Sunnycrest. Totally unaware of what the future might bring, they were all smiles back then.

At the time the picture was taken, the girls weren’t yet teenagers. Samantha still had her braces, and Marlowe and Isabel were young and gawky. Cate and Monty sometimes flew up for an event, like a birthday, or the Fourth of July. Then Monty might go back while Cate enjoyed a week or two with her sister’s family in the home where she’d spent her summers growing up. This house had held so much happiness…and a good dose of heartache as the years passed.

Happiness or heartaches, families had to move on. No matter what happened, you had to pick up the pieces and mold them into something new and wonderful. Her mother had taught her that years ago.

One summer day when Cate was squeezing lemons for lemonade, she’d accidentally knocked over one of her mother’s beautiful pitchers. At the time her mother had a pitcher collection gathered from her parents’ many trips, and they were displayed above the kitchen cabinets. When the accident happened, her mother was rolling out a pie crust for the blueberries they’d picked that morning. The blue pitcher was from Siena, Italy, and Cate had been squeezing lemons into it when she leaned too hard. The pitcher went skittering to the floor with a crash. Pieces ended up all over. Cate was horrified.

Mom had put down her rolling pin and gave Cate The Look , loving but you knew something was coming.

“Mom, I’m so, so sorry…” Cate could hardly get the words out.

“I know you are, sweetheart. But now, what are you going to make of those pieces? You might think about that. It will be a nice project for you this summer. Gather them up and think of how you might use them. They’re too precious to waste.”

Where had the mirror gone that Cate had glued together after hours of fitting the pieces in some kind of pattern? The mirror was round with a four-inch border made of blue and yellow ceramic pieces from the pitcher. But she hadn’t seen that circular mirror in a long time.

Traditions . Old and new, she loved both. Cate turned over in the big bed, glad that she’d bought new mattresses for this house about three years ago. In her mind traditions were what this Christmas was all about. Thank goodness Isabel had put up a real Christmas tree. Cate had been so pleased to come through that door yesterday and smell the pine. The tree was an important family tradition.

But when she’d looked into the living room, the tree itself seemed frozen in time. Although Cate realized a lot of people saved their family holiday decorations, didn’t they also add to them each year?

That had been her tradition with Monty during their marriage. Each year they had put up a tree in their Tribeca condo in New York. “The taller, the better.” That had been Monty’s goal. Their trees had been gorgeous and she remembered each one fondly, even though her husband was no longer there to share those precious memories. She felt closer to him, looking at all the wonderful ornaments Monty had bought for her over the years. The Faberge Christmas collection, the diamond-set Eiffel Tower and the jade Japanese bridge from Monet’s garden. Her husband had enriched her life by planning trips he knew she’d enjoy. And a Christmas ornament would follow as a gift to remind her.

And now the torch had been passed to Cate. Had she been picking up the pieces of her broken heart since his passing? The twinge in her chest told her she wasn’t quite sure. This holiday season she’d put up a small artificial tabletop tree she’d found in a gift shop along Fifth Avenue.

Oh Monty, how I miss you. You might know what to do with these girls. Even though they were all grown women now, she still thought of them as girls. As she lay there in bed, Cate would have given anything to be tucked in one of the girls’ bedrooms with Monty, while her sister and brother-in-law were still sound asleep in this master bedroom. When the house was full, Sam and her sisters often doubled up. But that wasn't to be. As her mother used to say, “If wishes were fishes we'd all be a mess.”

Cate had to carry on. For her sister Joanna and for her darling nieces.

No more lazing about. The light in the bedroom had changed. The gray darkness had given way to the muted glow of morning. Throwing back the warm covers, she slipped from the bed and padded off to the bathroom on the worn area runners. After taking care of her teeth and dabbing La Mer moisturizer on her face, she drew on the moss green bathrobe she’d brought. With a little searching she found her fluffy pink slippers on the floor of the closet where she’d tossed them the night before.

Taking her phone off the charger, she saw that it was almost eight o’clock. She slipped the phone into her pocket and wondered if Isabel would be working that day. She supposed so. The girl seemed dedicated to her shop and Cate was proud of what she’d achieved. Coffee and Cupcakes must be in high demand during the holiday season. Her sister Joanna would be so happy with her children’s accomplishments.

But now Samantha was hurting. Oh, that much was clear and Cate didn’t know what she could do about that. Sure, she’d persuaded Samantha to come here under the false pretense that her sister needed her. Now what? Obviously she hadn’t even told her sisters about her divorce.

The horseshoe-shaped upstairs hallway that encircled the staircase was very quiet as Cate crept down the front stairs. Some of them needed attention and she stayed away from the center of each riser to avoid any squeaks. The downstairs area was cool and dark. Her hand brushed the garland Isabel had strung down the banister, leaving her fingers slightly sticky with pine. Dealing with fresh greenery was such a novelty for Cate.

Since she’d spent every summer up here when she was growing up, Cate could have navigated this house blindfolded. Stopping at the thermostat in the hall, she kicked the heat up a bit. Maybe she should have new thermostats put in that let you program the heat. Monty had talked about doing that but his untimely death had put a lot of things on hold.

A nightlight shone in the hallway and Isabel had left a light on in the kitchen over the sink. Trying not to make a sound, Cate entered the kitchen and pushed the swinging door shut. The arched pocket door to the dining room was still open but that was all right.

Isabel had a coffee maker on the counter that looked as if it took real grounds. Carefully opening the knotty pine cupboards, Cate ended up with the white knob in her palm. The darn thing had fallen off. Screwing it back on was useless so she set it aside. Eventually she found the bag of coffee. Inhaling, she was glad she didn’t have one of those machines with the small cups that you popped into the holder. Not today. Not here. Although she hadn't actually made coffee in quite a while she managed to measure some out into the white paper shell. Going through the spice drawer, she found the cinnamon and dusted the coffee with a liberal amount. Then she filled the machine with water and pressed the button.

Now, what kind of food did her niece have? This didn’t seem like a morning for cold cereal and Cate did some poking around. Isabel was a girl who appreciated tradition. Cate could see that in the treasures that she kept in the kitchen.

Her sister Joanna and her husband Eric had picked up the counter spoon rest in Holland, Michigan. Cate remember the story of how beautiful the tulips had been the first spring after they’d gotten married. And Isabel had hung out the Christmas towels that had been used in this house for ages. Her mother's ceramic tree sat on the circular kitchen table, an electric cord connected to an outlet. When Cate pressed the switch, the tiny lights embedded in the shiny ceramic surface sprang to life.

As the kitchen filled with the rich smell of coffee, Cate explored the freezer. Delighted to find a frozen Sara Lee pecan coffee cake, she turned on the oven. Now she was getting somewhere. Someone had left the Belgian waffle maker on the counter. Their mother had taught both Joanna and Cate how to make a light waffle. The secret was adding a lot of vanilla and cardamom to the mixture and then folding in the egg whites.

Checking the refrigerator, she found syrup and eggs. Cate plugged in the waffle maker. In no time at all she was whipping up the batter. Having someone to cook for again gave her new energy and she sang “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” to herself as she worked. When the coffee was ready, she filled the red mug she’d brought home from Coffee and Cupcakes the day before. Her search of the refrigerator had yielded some yummy peppermint creamer. Pouring some into the mug, she stirred.

Outside the stars had disappeared from the sky, although a winter moon still hung over the tall pines. The rising sun peaked through the branches of the trees. A cold December sun outlined the frost that had etched the glass windows into a wispy fairy tale pattern. This was something she would never see in her Tribeca condo with floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed no leaks. She'd forgotten all the simple joys of Sunnycrest in winter.

Was someone moving around upstairs? She couldn't remember which bedroom was above the kitchen. But the distinct wail of the baby made its way down the back staircase, answering her question. Cate opened the kitchen door so that the inviting smell of coffee might work its way upstairs. Running her hands under the cold water, she splashed a few drops on the waffle maker. It sizzled wonderfully and she knew it was hot enough. She transferred the whisked batter to a plastic bowl with a spout. The hot iron hissed as she carefully covered its Nordic designed metal plates with her mixture.

By the time Isabel appeared in the doorway with Holly in her arms, there were two waffles sitting on a plate in the center of the table. Silverware was set at three places along with the Christmas napkins she’d found in the cupboard. Dressed in an old pink hoodie, her eyes bleary with smeared makeup and her long blonde hair in knots, Isabel looked so happy.

“I hope I didn't wake you up.” Cate gave her niece a hug.

“Not at all. I had to get up anyway. Got to get ready for work.” Isabel was so efficient, sliding the baby into the highchair and then reaching for the Cheerios and spreading some on the highchair platter. “And waffles? What a treat.” Isabel took some plates down from another cupboard.

In no time at all they were eating waffles while they sipped their coffee. When Isabel gave the baby some small bits of waffle, the baby’s sticky lips tipped up into a delighted smile.

“Can you say waffle?” Isabel dangled the bit of waffle in front of Holly.

“Wa-wa,” Holly said, snatching it from her mother's fingers while Isabel laughed.

“How about thank you, Holly?”

“Tu-tu,” the baby said, cute as could be.

“Can you say Ma-ma?” Isabel asked, teasing her daughter with another bite.

“Wa-wa.” Opening and closing her tiny fingers, the child knew what she wanted. A little frown appeared on her flawless forehead and Isabel relinquished the waffle with a resigned sigh.

“She's so full of energy,” Cate said.

“Isn't she? Way more than her mom.”

“You are doing a great job, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

“If she would just say Mama. Am I asking too much?” Isabel looked so deflated.

“I don't know much about babies,” Cate admitted. “But like everything else, it probably takes time.”

When Piper came down to join them, Isabel quickly let her out the back door. By the time the dog came back in, Isabel had filled the her bowl with food and refreshed her water.

They were munching on the pecan coffee cake when Samantha appeared in the doorway. “What am I missing?” She was dressed in red plaid flannel pajamas with a leaping green reindeer on the front.

“Looks like you're in a holiday mood,” Isabel joked.

Yawning, Samantha shrugged. “I only wear these pajamas during the holidays.”

Cate jumped up to plug in the waffle iron. “Coffee?”

“Sure, but I can get it.” Rubbing her eyes, Samantha turned toward the counter and grabbed the coffee pot. She’d turned into such a beautiful woman and so accomplished too. But now she had quite a challenge in front of her. Kurt and another woman. What a disappointment he’d turned out to be.

Some marriages just don’t work out. Isabel's divorces had been a rude awakening for the Quinn girls. After all, their parents had been so happy together. But Isabel had been very young when she married Skipper. From the stories, she told when she visited Cate and Monty in New York, she began dating again soon after the divorce. But her second marriage to Chuck Dalton had been equally short. And Cate had never really heard the story about that.

After that second divorce, Isabel had gone on a Dating Diet, as she laughingly called it. She stopped dating. Went “cold turkey.” Samantha and Marlowe thought that was a good idea and so did Cate and Monty, not that Isabel had asked for any advice on the matter.

As executors of her parents’ will, Cate and Monty were able to help Isabel, but they watched her go from one failed venture to another. Cleaning houses, catering, or selling precious oils sure to cure any ill. At the beginning of each new career, Isabel had been so excited. But they’d all failed. Monty thought her heart wasn’t in it. He’d be pleased by how much energy she’d brought to Coffee and Cupcakes. Passion equals success, or so Monty used to say. Cate sure hoped that this time Isabel would continue to enjoy success.

Sipping from her mug of coffee, Sam took the seat close to Holly. The baby was feeding herself chunks of a waffle Isabel had put on her tray.

“How about a fresh waffle?” Cate asked, already getting up.

Shaking her head, Samantha slumped into a chair. After a sip of coffee, she reached for a slice of the coffee cake. “This will do just fine.”

Isabel threw her sister a glance. “So were you surprised to run into Josh McCall yesterday at the shop?”

“Amazed would be more like it.” Samantha didn't look happy. “Surprised me that he’s a doctor. Who knew?”

“And now he’s a widower, Sam,” Isabel said softly.

“For heaven’s sake, that doesn’t change anything.”

“Doesn’t it?” Cate asked.

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