Chapter 53
Lucy
Back from the hospital, I pack slowly. It’s good exercise. I study the properties for rent in the local paper, but none is as nice as the ones in Brighton Court.
In my letterbox there’s a flyer for a Christmas concert – carols by candlelight – up at the old church on the corner. I message Phoebe and invite her, with or without Jaxon.
Christmas was always the network – the shows, the parties. Sometimes the network was at our home. We had at least three photo shoots around our huge tree in the living room. I’d love helping make our place into the set, decorating the tree and loading it up with gifts.
Phoebe and Jaxon are coming for drinks with me on Christmas Eve. I try not to dwell on the thought of them joining Bart and Mishelle on Christmas Day. I’m practicing using their real names, for Phoebe’s sake.
At night, the neighborhood around Brighton Court sparkles with Christmas lights. Donna and I have been busier than ever unpacking ahead of the holiday. Seems everyone wants to be home for Christmas, even if their home is brand new.
Donna will join her large family for the day, and I won’t tag along. She invited me – what a friend – but this is their time. Donna and I are practically welded together every working day in these busy weeks. We’ll take a break.
I’ll just be glad of a rest – glad for a break from scanning the internet for apartments to rent.
I go for a walk. There’s a frenzy of pre-Christmas interest at Jill’s and the other boutiques and I’m happy for them. I pick up a small plum pudding at the deli, and some smoked turkey – a feast for one.
As I round the corner, I see the little church. A Christmas banner advertises the choir. The concert is this evening; Carols by Candlelight. The church is so pretty, I rush home and dress, excited as a girl. I’ll carry the candle for my mother.
Darkness takes away my shyness with this crowd of friendly strangers. There’s a smell of cinnamon and spice.
“Stay for drinks,” says the older lady in a red velvet hat as I give my donation. “Mulled wine!” She winks.
“Thank you.” I wink back. Perhaps I will.
Another volunteer hands me a battery-operated candle. I suppose it’s safer than the ones that dripped hot wax.
The pews are hard but I barely notice as the church fills.
Organ music fills the darkness, an odd note or two making it all the more special.
An extended family sits alongside, the youngest daughter swinging her booted feet beside me, like something off the cover of a Christmas card. We exchange smiles.
The pastor welcomes us and invites us to switch on our candles.
The lights dim and the choir emerges from behind us, and I startle to see Dirk file past and take his place up there among the baritones, serious, shoulder to shoulder in his black robes, eyes on the conductor.
He stares at me and smiles, and I beam and sparkle my diamonds at him.
He turns his attention back to the conductor as the music begins.
I love this man. He’s more handsome than ever with his hair cut short. I make out his voice occasionally, the same one I overheard at the art gallery on my first night in the neighborhood.
The children beside me keep switching their candles on and off as we sing along when invited, but mostly I let myself disappear in the mellow darkness and let this Christmas blend with the best memories of all the others.
With my voice, I send my thanks out and up, beyond the stained glass windows, out into the universe.
Later, as drinks are handed around, I see Dee and Matt and Lexie and Theo at the edge of the crowd. When Dirk appears he grabs my hand and leads me across to them. When Lexie sees us, she runs to Dirk, and he lifts her in his arms.
“You remember Lucy, Dee?”
Dee hesitates; sees the way Dirk and Lexie smile at me.
It’s Matt who steps forward and shakes my hand. Dee follows suit, and then surprises me.
“Would you like to join us for Christmas lunch, Lucy?” Dee says.
“I’d love that,” I say. “Thank you.”
Theo claps his hands.
“More presents!” he says, and Matt shakes his finger at him..
“Would you like me to cook something?” I say. “And I’m really good at cleaning up.”
“In our family, everyone brings something for the table, and we share the clean-up,” Matt says.
“Thank you, Dee. Thank you, Matt. You must tell me what to bring. Maybe some of Davey’s sauerkraut?”
“Davey’s sauerkraut?” Dee asks.
“Long story,” says Dirk. “Tell you later.”
Dirk walks me home, his arm around me, as if he owns me. I love it.