Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
MARLOWE
M arlowe woke up Christmas Eve morning smelling breakfast. Curling up tighter in the bed, she inhaled. What was her aunt cooking up? Last night Aunt Cate had been so cute, warning them not to come down before nine o’clock. Marlowe had chuckled to herself at the time. Would any food be left by ten? She mashed her face into the pillow. How great was this to have someone else in charge?
Grabbing her phone, she saw that it was about nine thirty. What was this? Notice of a late-night call. Thank goodness her phone had been turned off. She really had some serious thinking to do. Being with her family had reminded her of a lot of things. Stuff that mattered. Even though she didn’t answer the calls, they kept coming. She needed time to think.
What a special Christmas this was, celebrating together with family. Years ago she had sometimes spent Christmas with Sam in Chicago. And then there was the year when Sam and Marlowe had flown out to New York for Christmas. Marlowe wanted to ice skate at Rockefeller Center. They’d sent Izzy a ticket to come join them, but something had come up for her. Maybe it was when she and her second husband were going through a divorce.
But this time? This year they were all together, thanks to their aunt and her persistent finagling. Throwing back the covers, Marlowe was determined to make the most of this vacation. As she crammed her feet into her slippers, she could hear Izzy’s voice downstairs. She must be in the kitchen with the baby.
Izzy has a baby . The first in their family. The wonder of that baby girl filled her heart.
Marlowe had slept in her warmup pants, heavy socks and a long-sleeved T-shirt. The room was so darn cold, despite the dry heat pouring from the vents. After pulling on a hoodie, she made her way down the steps and then she remembered.
Sam! Sam and her twisted ankle. She would need Marlowe’s help.
Dashing back up the steps, she slowly opened her sister’s bedroom door. With a brush of his bushy tail, Bogart escaped and she almost tripped on him. He must have been waiting at the door for his freedom. One look at Sam’s canopy bed and she knew her sister was still deep asleep. Flat on her back, she had her left leg out to the side above the covers.
The poor thing. That had been one weird accident. But maybe it was worth it when a guy like Josh McCall came to your rescue. However, her sister didn’t seem to feel grateful. When the opportunity came up, Marlowe wanted more information about Sam’s divorce. Was she still in mourning? Marlowe had read about that divorce stage in some magazine. The treachery of her former brother-in-law made her furious. But right now she needed food and this was not the time to bother Sam.
Leaving the door ajar, Marlowe crept down the front stairs. The smell of pine was calling to her. Passing the living room archway, she had to peek at the tree. It had been so long since she’d had a decent size tree like this beauty.
Someone had turned on the lights and the tree glowed a welcome in the dim morning light. What a good time they’d had the night before. Some popcorn kernels caught her eye on the rug, and she quickly scooped them up. The fireplace had died down and she pushed the screen aside. Reaching for the flue, she closed it with a dull thud. No use letting any heat escape. At least that’s what their father had always taught them.
The movies from the night before had left such an impression. She’d had dreams about them. And in those dreams, her parents were still with them. Loving them, supporting them, and yes, setting boundaries for them. Sam and Marlowe had both rebelled when they were in high school. Their poor parents.
There had been many a night when the two older sisters had crept out of Marlowe’s bedroom and onto the roof of the side porch. Down below thick pine bushes awaited, ensuring a safe landing. And then they were free. She was sure that her sister had tales to tell about Josh from those summer nights down on the beach. A group of them would build a fire and toast marshmallows for s’mores. Gathering around a fire, they’d talk about their dreams for the future. Being two years younger, Marlowe had done a lot of listening. How many of those couples had wound up together?
Spider had been her high school crush when they were up here for the summer. All legs, he’d been a runner, a rangy guy with taut muscles. He brought a beat-up guitar to the bonfires on the beach. That’s about all she remembered. Her decision to go to school in Florida had broken up that romance. She’d made friends with the kids who summered on Marco Island or Nantucket. No more Charlevoix for her. But everything had started here. She knew that now.
Sometimes Marlowe wondered if her college choice had less to do with the weather and more to do with trying to do things her way. Now she realized how hard those years must have been for Sam. Marlowe had adored her big sister. The past couple days had reminded her of how much fun they’d had together. How many good memories they’d shared.
Marlowe pushed through the swinging door and into the kitchen. “Good morning!” Aunt Cate greeted her. “What are you eating?” She was sitting at the round table with Izzy and the baby, nibbling at bacon and probably waiting for Marlowe and Sam to come down.
Embarrassed, Marlowe swallowed and swiped one hand on her sweatpants. “Popcorn. I found a few kernels from last night.” Although she hadn’t meant to eat them, she’d been lost in thought.
“Hug, hug.” At least that’s what Marlowe thought her niece was saying when she reached out her arms. Of course she couldn’t resist. Apparently Holly had been eating French toast with syrup and her hands were sticky. But Marlowe was going to shampoo her hair anyway after breakfast and had no problem with the baby embedding her hands in Marlowe’s long hair.
She pulled up a chair. Before long, she was eating French toast with some scrambled eggs on the side. The bacon was crisp, just the way she liked it, and she dumped a heavy load of peppermint creamer into her coffee. Aunt Cate knew how to make a hearty meal. Sometimes it was simple and parts might be store-bought, but always the food was tasty and filling. Uncle Monty had probably liked it that way. When everyone was finished, Marlowe helped Izzy clear the table but they let the dishes sit on the counter next to the sink while they talked about the family movies.
“I never realize that Mom looked so tired a lot of the time,” Izzy said with the innocence that always cracked Marlowe up.
“She worked hard for all of you,” Aunt Cate said with a chuckle. “That was her life. Sure she was tired.”
Izzy nodded. “That explains a lot. I mean, about myself.” Now that she was a mother, she probably was tired a lot of the time. Marlowe wished she could help her more.
“Was that a big adjustment for you, Aunt Cate?” Marlowe asked, curious about their past. “Coming to Naperville to be our mother for a while?”
“Maybe. But Uncle Monty and I felt privileged to step in.” She gave them a wistful smile. “Maybe you were the family who’d been gifted to us through your parents.”
They all seemed to turn that over in their minds. Although Marlowe’s older sister had seemed very grown up when they lost their parents, Sam had only been seventeen. She wasn’t adult enough to take over. Aunt Cate had taken a leave of absence and commuted back-and-forth to New York, which must have been a strain. Thank goodness Uncle Monty was back there to keep their law practice running. Eventually, when Sam was in college, she insisted that she could handle their family situation. Aunt Cate had agreed, and her visits became less frequent. Coming back to Sunnycrest had been so hard at first. But time heals and they loved the house.
“Marlowe! Marlowe, are you down there?” Sam was calling from the upstairs landing.
Pushing back her chair, she hurried to the stairs. “Ready to come down?”
But Sam being Sam, she hadn’t waited. No, Marlowe found her sister bumping down the steps on her behind, as if she was escaping a fire. Laughing, Marlowe leapt up the steps, scooped up the scooter and met her sister at the bottom. Aunt Cate had Sam’s plate ready when they entered the kitchen.
Sitting there together, the four women talked about the day. The caroling in downtown Charlevoix would be at six o’clock, so they worked their schedule back from there. Cheese fondue had always been their meal on Christmas Eve no matter where they were, and they decided to enjoy their traditional meal after the caroling. Izzy and Marlowe wanted to eat in the dining room, which had always been the setting for holiday meals.
Their grandmother’s Christmas china was stacked on the sideboard, along with her silver. Their mother had never taken it back to Naperville so that Aunt Cate could use it too when she was in town. Of course, usually Aunt Cate preferred the kitchen Fiestaware. But for Christmas Eve and Christmas dinner, they would be in the dining room. Everyone agreed on that.
To the girls’ surprise, their aunt had quietly been assembling the meals. She’d become quite skilled at using Uber. Despite their offers to drive her around, she overruled them. “I use Uber all the time in the city. It’s way more convenient than trying to work around your schedules with two cars.” And she preferred to have someone else drive. After all, she was from New York, where hardly anyone owned a car because they all walked or hailed a cab.
Aunt Cate had obviously made more than one trip into town and their pantry shelves groaned with holiday delicacies. Macaroons and sugared pecans, parmesan chips and figgy crisps. A ham and a turkey were tucked in the garage refrigerator, which was equally loaded with goodies.
Their aunt seemed to have an insider’s knowledge of freezer delicacies. She had stashed away boxes of egg rolls made of brie and plum jam. Crab Rangoon and small quiche cups. They appreciated her consideration. Marlowe especially was taking notes. She liked to entertain in Naples, but she was way too busy to cook. Her bacon, asparagus and cream cheese rollups were popular, but they were about the only appetizer she knew how to fix. Her aunt had good suggestions that didn’t require a lot of work.
After they finished washing the dishes, they moved back into the living room. The morning seemed perfect for lolling about. Marlowe built another fire and they watched more movies, this time their graduations. Content as could be after that breakfast, they lost complete track of time until the phone rang.
Pushing herself up from the floor, Marlowe scrambled to answer it in the front hall. They could pick up the house’s landline in the front hall and or upstairs in the master bedroom. “Hello and Happy Holidays,” she said when she picked up.
Dragging the long curled cord behind her, she peeked back into the living room. Everyone had turned to see who was on the phone. “It’s Josh McCall.”