Chapter 11
“Would you grab the paper?” Nell asked her older daughter the next morning when they had finished breakfast and were gathered in the living room. “It wasn’t there earlier. Our paperboy must be running late.”
Molly went to the door and a moment later returned with the Yorktide Daily Chronicle under her left arm and a square box wrapped in bright green paper in her right hand.
“From Mick?” Nell asked unnecessarily.
Molly nodded.
“I wonder why he didn’t ring the bell,” Felicity said. “He was probably in a hurry. Well, aren’t you going to open it?”
Molly dropped the newspaper onto an end table and slowly removed the green wrapping paper. In the box and carefully nestled in tissue paper was a Wedgwood blue Jasperware disk ornament depicting the image of a turtledove. Threaded through the top of the ornament was a white silk string with a tassel.
“It’s lovely,” Nell said.
“It is,” Felicity agreed. “You know, I bet you’re going to miss Mick when you’re having a wild and crazy time in Boston.”
“I didn’t say it’s going to be wild and crazy,” Molly said testily.
“No,” Felicity agreed. “You’re not the nightclub type. In fact, I think you’re going to miss Mick so much you’ll decide to come home after a few weeks. Why don’t you just move to Portland instead of Boston? Portland’s only like forty minutes away, and it’s a lot less expensive than Boston. It would be way less of a hassle to move there and back.”
Nell restrained a sigh. Now she felt as if she were betraying her younger daughter by allowing her to go on blithely as she was, assuming that nothing in her sister’s life had changed while the reality was something quite different.
Molly closed the lid of the box and put it on the end table next to the newspaper. “Don’t mention my going to Boston when you see Mick, okay?” she said, ignoring her sister’s suggestion.
“Why?” Felicity asked. “Is he upset that you’re going?”
“Let’s just respect Molly’s wishes,” Nell said quickly.
Felicity shrugged. “Sure.”
“So,” Nell went on, “haven’t either of you noticed the crèche I set up last night?” She gestured toward a small end table on which sat a three-sided wooden barnlike structure with a thatched roof. At the apex of the roof, which stood about nine inches from the base of the structure, Nell had attached the figure of an angel holding aloft an undulating banner proclaiming “Peace on Earth.”
“I bought it the last time I was in Portland,” she said. “The Nativity is such a sweet scenario. What’s lovelier than a newborn baby and his mother?”
Felicity went over to the scene and picked up the figure of an older man carrying a staff. “Don’t forget Joseph,” she said, moving the figure closer to the baby in his cradle of hay. “The father is a big part of the story, even though he’s not technically the father.”
“Yes,” Nell said, with a twinge of guilt. Had she been aware of excluding the father from the heart of the scene? “The father, too. I know we’ve never had a crèche before, but I thought it would be a nice addition to our home.”
Molly shrugged. “Whatever. It’s your house, Mom, you can do what you want.”
Nell felt stricken. “No,” she said. “It’s our house. It’s our home.”
“You know what I mean,” Molly said. “Fliss and I won’t be living here forever. I’d better get going.” Molly reached for her backpack and coat, both flung across a chair.
“Aren’t you going to put Mick’s gift somewhere safe?” Nell asked.
Molly, at the front door, looked briefly over her shoulder. “It’s fine where it is,” she said. In a moment she was gone.
“What’s up with her these days?” Felicity asked. “She’s never been moody and short-tempered, except for the time she had that really bad flu that took forever to go away.”
Nell picked up the box with its green wrapping paper still partly attached. “She’s under a lot of strain with school,” she said evasively. “I’ll put this under the tree.”
“Well, whatever’s bothering her, I hope she gets over it before Christmas. Oh, I almost forgot,” Felicity cried. “I know I said I’d go to the Christmas fair at Saint Pat’s with you later, but I can’t.”
“Why not?” Nell asked. “We go every year.”
“The thing is I’m going to the fair with a bunch of girls from school instead. Don’t be mad, okay? It’s just that after the fair we’re going down to the outlets in Kittery.”
Nell didn’t see what one thing had to do with the other, but she didn’t argue. “Sure,” she said, managing a smile.
Felicity grinned. “Thanks, Mom. Bye.”
And then Felicity was gone as well, the front door slamming behind her.
Alone, Nell suddenly had the strange feeling that the grinning faces of the cherub figurines that sat on either end of the mantel were mocking her. She wanted so badly to make this Christmas perfect but try as she might, her efforts didn’t seem to be garnering the results she had hoped for. And what results are those? Nell asked herself. My daughters declaring they’ll never grow up and leave me? With a shake of her head, Nell strode from the living room.