Chapter 34
Nell had prepared a simple meal of pasta with sausage and broccoli and tomato sauce she had made at the end of the tomato harvest back in September. As she set the kitchen table, she thought about the call she had made to Eric late that afternoon. He swore he was feeling much better and that nothing would keep him from joining the King family for Christmas. Nell smiled as she placed a fork by her plate. This Christmas was not turning out to be the quiet, private little holiday she had wanted it to be. She had gone into the season with expectations for one reality and now she was facing another, maybe even a better reality. Resiliency and optimism, Nell thought as she placed the last napkin on the table. Both were awfully useful tools to have in one’s hand.
The girls came into the kitchen then. “Just in time,” Nell said, as she brought a large bowl of the pasta to the table.
Felicity dropped into her chair, singing in her pretty soprano voice. “ ‘Later on we’ll conspire, as we dream by the fire, to face unafraid the plans that we made, walking in a winter wonderland.’ Remember when I was an elf in my second grade Christmas play,” she asked suddenly, “and I fell on stage because of those stupid elf boots? The toes were like a mile long.”
Molly smiled. “What I remember most was how you just picked yourself up and got on with things. When that little boy fell over the toes of his elf boots, he made such a howling racket!”
“That was Curtis Murray. His family moved to Portland when we were in sixth grade. I wonder if he’s still a drama queen.”
“I remember the Murrays. There was an older son who went to school with Mick.” Molly sighed. “I can’t help but wonder what Mick planned on bringing me today. Do you know his mother told me that when he was only ten he bought her a Byers’ Choice collectible figure for Christmas. He saved every penny of the money he’d made from his paper route and from shoveling snow and raking leaves for that old couple that used to own Spiny Ridge Farm. He’s always been so thoughtful and selfless.” Molly turned to Nell. “Mom? Do you think he was planning to propose tomorrow?”
Nell sighed. “Oh, Molly, I don’t know.”
“Try not to think about it,” Felicity said. “Think about something else, like the fact that a famous writer is spending Christmas with us!”
“Are you nervous about Eric’s being here tomorrow?” Molly asked.
“Why would she be nervous?” Felicity asked. “They’re friends.”
“They were more than that, once,” Molly said quietly. “And you know what they say about first loves.”
Nell reached for Molly’s hand. “That you never forget them.”
“Hey, you two,” Felicity said brightly. “I have an idea. Why don’t we go to church in the morning? I know we haven’t gone in a long time, but somehow this year it feels like the right thing to do.”
Molly nodded. “I’m in. A little prayer never hurt anybody.”
“I think going to church is a great idea,” Nell said. “A really great idea.”
Home safely. Merry Xmas.
Nell read Joel’s text with a sense of relief and returned to wrapping the final present. She had decided to give Molly her great aunt Prudence’s serving platter after all; there really was no reason not to. Once the platter was wrapped, the duties Nell had set herself this Christmas season would be done. The stockings were completed; the craft materials were put away; the baking supplies were stowed in cupboards. All that was left now was to enjoy every moment of Christmas Day with her family. And with her friends.
Nell affixed a final piece of tape to the package with a sigh of satisfaction. She felt calm and yet strangely excited. She put the package aside, went to the window, and leaned close to the pane. The scene she saw was odd, a strange play of light from the room behind her, darkness beyond, gray swaths in between. She remembered how Molly had said that white could be a more frightening color than black; she had said that the snow-covered world looked blanched and drained of life. An image began to form somewhere inside Nell, and she felt a strange fluttering throughout her body.
Abruptly, Nell turned from the window and hurried over to her desk. She reached for a pen and one of her old notebooks from the pile stacked atop the desk. She opened the notebook, and along a clean margin she began to write, her thoughts outdistancing her hand. She frowned and crossed out a word and scribbled three more, turning the notebook to follow the clean margin. She wrote until suddenly she stopped. She read what she had written and nodded. The resulting lines were perhaps not very good, but what was good was that the impulse, the need to write had returned. Nell laughed to herself. She would need to buy some new notebooks and a package of her favorite blue pens and maybe the good old-fashioned number two pencils she had loved to use. And a pencil sharpener. She would need a pencil sharpener, too.
Nell closed the curtains over the window, got into bed, and turned off the lamp on her bedside table. She knew now for a fact that even if tomorrow proved to be the last time she ever saw Eric Manville face-to-face, she would be okay. For an unbelievable second time in her life he had gifted her with energy and belief in her talents. And she was stronger now than she had been all those years ago, strong enough to finally live as she had been meant to live, with poetry in her soul. And with poetry in her soul she would never truly be alone.
Molly was right, Nell thought, her eyes beginning to close. You never did forget your first love. For some that could be a curse, but for Nell it had turned out to be a blessing.