48. Alice
Chapter forty-eight
Alice
P anic climbed Alice’s throat, and she shoved a flap over it and stuffed it down like an overfilled duffel bag. Challenging Henry hadn’t been her intent. But something had to goad him out of this autopilot he was on.
He’d without a doubt stomped on Jay’s grief, and that was not okay. Not even a little bit.
Green eyes narrowed. His expression otherwise inscrutable, Henry tugged the card from her hand. “Certainly, if you’d like.”
“I think we’d all like that.” She smoothed Jay’s hair to hide her shaking fingers. He’d laid the truth bare like he always did—Mother’s heart attack was fucking scary. Alice knew all about running from fear. Henry and Jay had gotten her to turn and face her fears. If she did less for Henry when he had to be crammed full of terror, she didn’t deserve to be his wife. “And then we can see where the day takes us.”
He raised the card between his fingers. She hadn’t even glanced at the sketch, and now it hung upside down before her.
“My dearest loves.” One green eye spied her around the side of the fancy speckled paper. “We began this month seeking a bright green gem to serve as the heart of our home this holiday season. That repository for our hopes and dreams carries them forward into the new year. Now we gather in another home, one that I hope will also come to feel as dear to your hearts. Let us go out and bring in the green, set our wishes upon the star, and fill the house with laughter and song.”
His sweet baritone washed through her, soothing in its familiarity, blunting the edges of her determination. Her fingers slipped from Jay’s hair and rested atop Henry’s hand on his shoulder. She curled around his knuckles, squeezing as she swallowed hard. The numb, distracted man from last night might lie just below the surface, and she couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t return. She’d grown up trying to tiptoe around her father’s moods. Her marriage couldn’t be allowed to become a mirror of her parents’.
“Oh, that’s lovely, just lovely.” Mother reached past her. “May I? Is that the piano?” Henry relinquished the card, and Mother flipped the front down, turning the sketch right-side-up. “And you’ve nestled the tree into the curve beautifully.” She tapped the edge, her nails slightly ragged, and angled the sketch toward Alice and Jay. “That’s the way we’ve always done it, since Henry’s father and I married and moved in here. More than fifty years.”
Henry had drawn a corner of the music room—the tree set between the grand piano and the front window, with frost on the pane and a candle on the sill. Looking at the sketch was like stepping into an old-timey Christmas. They could have that bubble of happiness tonight. Alice just had to confess her sins of omission to Henry while also getting him to understand he didn’t have to do everything himself. No pressure. “It’s the perfect choice for today. Thank you, Henry.”
Jay echoed her thanks, tipping his head back, his hair tickling her hand. “We’ll pick out the best tree, promise.”
“I’ve no doubt you will.” Henry eased his hand free of Alice’s grip and returned to the stove, where he scooped up her plate and bowl. “A festive day awaits, but only after we’ve all eaten.”
Humming a fast, light carol, Mother spooned up a bit of oatmeal. “Yes, we do need a little Christmas to brighten the house. We’ll have to bundle up afterward if we mean to fell a tree.” Chasing a cranberry around the bowl, she finally landed it. “When I was a girl, my father would choose one from our woods. We’ll have to go farther afield, of course, but that will leave us plenty of time to tell stories in the car. Jay, perhaps you can tell me more about your Mrs. Eickhoff.”
Bending close, Alice pressed a kiss to Jay’s forehead. She squeezed both of his shoulders. “You told us some wonderful stories on our cocoa night. You could share those with Mother. Maybe we could bake something in Mrs. Eickhoff’s honor tomorrow?”
“Oooh, what a delightful thought. Was she a baker? Did she know what an excellent taste-tester you are, Jay?” Mother was everything Henry wasn’t right now—interested, questioning, leaning toward Jay and smiling gently.
“She baked so many things, you wouldn’t believe. Something new every week.” Jay stirred fruit and sugar into his oatmeal, and Alice left him to it, taking the place Henry had set for her. Eyes gleaming, Jay basked in Mother’s attention. He cupped one hand beside his mouth, blocking Alice’s view, and dropped into a stage whisper. “Most Tuesdays I had dessert with her before I met Alice for lunch. Don’t tell Alice!”
Mother mimed twisting a key at her lips. “Not a word. We sweets lovers must stick together. Henry is far less susceptible to the lure of dessert. He and his brother both get that from their father.”
Standing behind his chair, Henry raised an eyebrow at his mother. “Less sugar would be preferable, but perhaps Alice and Jay will stumble upon doughnuts during their tree search today. We sampled a surfeit of treats on our excursion earlier this month.”
“Which I successfully got Henry to try.” Alice swiveled to catch his eye. Even a glance might remind him of the day they’d had, the treats teased from her fingers with his tongue. But Henry cleared his dishes from the table without acknowledging her—or Jay, whose face fell as his usual task was stolen from him. “That was such a great day. We’ll try for a repeat.”
“I think it would be best if you and Jay helm the outing for the tree, Alice.” The sink sprayer spat over Henry’s words, rinsing the last scrapes of oatmeal from his bowl. “Mother and I will remain here and ready the music room to receive it.”
Jay swallowed in a hurry. “You’re not coming?”
Mother lowered her teacup. “Of course we are. Henry, it’s a family outing in the spirit of the season. Green trees and fresh air are perfectly in line with the care team’s recommendations. Watching Jay select a tree for us will be far less laborious than the exercises I completed in the rehabilitation class yesterday.”
“The exercises were indoors, climate controlled and under supervision.” Henry moved on to the dishes from the stovetop, adding suds to the oatmeal pot, his back straight. If his broad shoulders held tension, his sweater hid it. But neutral dom voice was making an appearance. “The tree farms are far from medical assistance, and the cold air could seize your lungs. We haven’t the portable oxygen to bring along anymore.”
“I have acres of scarves, darling. More than enough to keep me breathing heated air for a few hours.” Mother kept her tone light, but she wielded the same steel beneath as Henry did.
“A few hours on your feet, which could lead to dizziness and an elevated heart rate even with your medication.” The scouring pad scuffed across the metal again and again, Henry’s arm in constant motion. “Alice and Jay will do a splendid job selecting the tree, and staying home will conserve your energy for the decorating, Mother. We’ll have music and treats—mulled cider, perhaps?”
Alice’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Not from the oatmeal, but the indecision. Jay shoveled food in as fast as he could gulp it down. He couldn’t even be tasting it—just throwing glances at Henry doing the cleanup work that should’ve been his.
She should wade into the mess, but what could she say? She had zero information about Mother’s actual health status. Mother might be pushing herself to do too much because she was tired of missing out on activities. Henry might be leaning hard into overprotective mode because that’s what he did. Jay had joked about it after his accident last winter, how Henry insisted he follow all of the care instructions and stay off his bike and wait to heal. But the waiting hadn’t hurt Jay, and it might have helped him.
“You can tell me what kind of tree you want, Mom.” Jay let his spoon fall against his empty bowl. “Before we go.” Reaching back, he pulled his phone from his pocket and set it on the table. “I can take notes. When I…” He ran his thumb along the phone case, with its knobby rubber bumpers. “When I got to Mrs. Eickhoff’s, she was—like she’d fallen out of her chair, she was—the ambulance hadn’t come yet. Her neighbor was sitting with her. With her body.”
The sounds at the sink stopped.
Mother folded Jay’s hand in both of hers. Tears grew in her eyes, waiting for the surface tension to break and spill over. “I’m so sorry that happened, darling. It must have been very upsetting.”
Jay wrapped his other hand over the top of Mother’s. He leaned close, sitting on the edge of his chair and gazing straight at Mother with his endlessly deep brown eyes. “If the cold air and the walking is bad for your heart, I don’t want you to go.” A grimace pinched his lips; a thready plea wound itself in his voice. “I promise I’ll take real good notes. And I can send you photos, or call you with video and walk you around all the best trees. And you can stay warm and rest, and then we can decorate together.”
Glancing from Jay to the straight line of Henry’s back, Mother delicately swallowed. A bright smile spread across her face. “You boys are right, of course.” Tugging Jay forward, she insisted on a hug. She embraced him with wiry strength, lightly rubbing his back. “And you’ll tell me all about your Mrs. Eickhoff while we decorate. I want to hear all about her baking, and…” Past Jay’s shoulder, Mother’s gaze landed on Alice. One eyebrow lifted.
“And her gin rummy games”—quick, what all did she know about the woman?—“and her grandkids…”
Mother squinched her eyes in thanks. “And all of the other things that made her special, Jay.” As her grip shifted to his shoulders, he rocked back to arm’s length, his posture quasi-inspection except for his head—level, not bowed. “And I would adore having you vicariously share your tree adventure today, however seems best.” She tapped the back of his phone case. “These really are the most magnificent devices. Olivia and Natalie have taken to sending me ridiculous images to make me smile—”
Ollie. Ollie, who might have spoken to Mom, who might have mentioned Alice’s disaster of a visit. Ollie was in regular communication with Henry’s mom. The potential bomb she needed to defuse with Henry was now a land mine, and it could be set off at any moment by Mother solicitously asking how Alice was after visiting her parents.
“—and Emma and I have begun chatting—”
“When was this?” Henry swung back toward them, his gaze sweeping like a lighthouse.
“Naturally I had to thank her and William for the gift basket the other day, darling.” Mother patted Jay’s arm and let him go. He cleared their empty dishes and made a beeline for Henry’s side. “We spoke a bit when I visited for your wedding, and with nurturing, I believe our chats will bloom into an excellent friendship.”
Other people were so much better at maintaining relationships. Every damn time, Alice defaulted to not intruding. Assuming people would reach out when they needed to, which was laughable when she’d been the poster child for not reaching out, for not needing anything even when she desperately did.
Of course Emma, with her social networking upbringing, would be keeping in touch. Of course Ollie, who did all the heavy lifting with Mom and Dad and nagged Alice if she was quiet for too long, would be messaging “Mama Helen” to entertain her while she was sick.
“This is what you’re doing when you’re meant to be resting, Mother? Clandestine conversations?” Henry shifted sideways, letting Jay take over the sink duties and load the dishwasher. Maybe that counted as a victory. A full day here, and he would fold them into the rhythms of this household and stop treating them as outsiders. “How will that aid in your recovery?”
“I’ve turned off the noises; they don’t interrupt my sleep.” Mother toyed with the chain of the tea ball, but she didn’t start fixing a second cup. “And I find receiving messages of support and love from distant family and friends quite restful and comforting.”
One more way Alice’s certainty that she shouldn’t disturb Henry and his mom had backfired a thousand percent. Jay would’ve loved to have a daily call with Henry’s mom if he couldn’t be there in person. They both would have benefited, and she and Henry had been roadblocks instead of express lanes. Fucking hell.
“And I feel useful. Needed. Having a child to pour attention into can lift one out of dark places.”
Sagging against the counter, Henry closed his eyes briefly. “Of course. Yes.”
The dark places. If the very mention could get an actual emotional reaction out of Henry, then that’s where they needed to go today. Alice would share hers—Dad’s hurled accusations, her fears she’d made things worse for Mom—and she would ask, then insist, then demand that he share his. Something had made them fuck up the last two weeks hard , and they couldn’t let that continue.
Mother firmly slid the teacup and saucer away from her. “Olivia and Natalie are starved for adequate parenting—with no disrespect intended to either of your families, my darlings—”
Alice splayed her hands and shook her head. “No, I get it.”
Jay, swinging back to the table for her dishes, barked a cynic’s laugh. “That’s more than fair.”
Mother’s quiet hum carried a sad note. “And Emma and I do have more than a few commonalities, once we gently pick our way toward speaking of them. Shared pain is a burden halved.”
Henry hissed on his inhale and sighed on his exhale. His burden didn’t seem halved just yet. It hung across his shoulders and in the shadows beneath his eyes.
Alice smiled softly at him, trying to will her determination and newfound certainty to shore him up for a little longer. “Henry gets that wisdom from you, Mother.”
And passed it along to her. They’d both just forgotten from the moment Henry had gotten the call. She knew what her problem was—a thirteen-year-old in the driver’s seat. But she couldn’t guess at Henry’s; she would have to get him relaxed enough to tell her. Out of survival mode.
She couldn’t suggest he go with her to find a tree; that was Jay’s expertise. And she couldn’t suggest staying behind herself and sending Jay out on his own; he’d been alone far too much this week already. She could only create an opportunity to talk once that task had been accomplished.
Pushing up from the table, she dusted off her hands. “All right! Who’s ready to go find a tree with me so we can get this party started?”