Chapter 8
Like a child, Mara was awake early on Christmas Day. I could hear her out in the living room, so figured she was plugging in the Christmas tree lights and shaking the packages. When I smelled coffee, which I craved right now, coming from the kitchen and heard her slippers scuffing down the hall toward my room, I ducked my head under one of the pillows, only to have her grab it and scream “Merry Christmas” in my ear.
“Wake up, it’s Christmas Day. Let’s open our gifts to one another, then have breakfast before getting dressed to go and share the rest of the day with my parents and Blake at his apartment.” She was now jumping up and down on my bed with her legs on either side of me.
“Speaking of crazy, you’re a perfect example of it. But Merry Christmas, my friend. I’ll be right out to have a cup of coffee with you while we open our gifts.”
“Meet you in the kitchen in thirty seconds or less,” Mara chirped.
Mara drank her cup of coffee at warp speed, then adjourned to the living room to search under the tree for our gifts to each other. I took a couple sips of my coffee, then joined her. I recognized the bright Christmas wrap the store had used for Mara’s gift, but the Christmas wrap on my gift from Mara had to be an original created by none other than Mara Holbrook. It was bright, it was cheery, and it said Christmas all over it. Mara had her gift half open by the time I sat down.
“Oh, Anna Louise, I love it.” She held up the bright-green tote bag with the colorful, iridescent butterflies flying about that I’d gotten her. The bag could hold a few of her paintings. She wouldn’t have to carrying them under her arm anymore. “I’ll be right back,” she sang out as she ran into her room and returned with a couple of her paintings, slipping them into her new bag.
I opened my gift to find a framed five-by-seven-inch black and white sketch of Mr. Cutler and me smiling together in front of a baby grand piano. I began to cry as I dug in the box for the easel to set it on. “This is beyond precious,” I said to Mara through my tears. “Thank you. I’ll have to take it to the Emporium with me to show Thomas. Has Daniel seen it?”
“Yes. I showed it to him before I wrapped it. He cried too.”
“I know what I’ll do. I’ll ask Thomas if I can set it on the small writing desk by the phone so I can see Mr. Cutler every day. His smile always encouraged me to do the best I could.”
“We’d better get dressed to go to Blake’s now. Let’s put their gifts in a couple of bags and set them by the door so we don’t forget them,” Mara suggested.
We both chose slim dresses for the day that touched just above the knee. Mine was red and Mara’s was green. Original, huh? Lunch was to be served at noon, so as soon as we were ready, we threw on our long, warm coats, grabbed a scarf, then the gifts, and made our way out the door and into the waiting cab. Mara knew I was nervous, so she chatted away at how Blake not only attended Julliard, but how he performed in concerts all over the United States and abroad now. That I’d probably find his apartment grand in comparison to ours, but he was still Blake Holbrook from Wisteria, Kansas, as if that would calm me down.
Mara sent Blake a text that we were arriving, so he met us in the lobby of his apartment building, which had a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling. “Merry Christmas to both of you,” he said cheerfully. “Follow me and I’ll take you up to my apartment where Mom and Dad are waiting.”
As he opened the door to his apartment, I was in awe. I wasn’t even sure if I should step on the plush, gray carpet. Mara rushed in and hugged her Mom and Dad. There were Christmas greetings all around. They made me feel right at home, as if I were part of the family. I only tensed up again when Blake came over and sat down on the piano bench near the sofa loveseat Mara and I was sitting on.
“So, Anna Louise, I believe you said you’re taking lessons at The School of Musical Arts.”
“You remembered. I am. Have you heard of it?”
“I have. One of my best friends went through the program before enrolling at Julliard. He said the program is run by a Mrs. Kristina McKenzie.
“That’s right, but the school is supported primarily by Mr. Samuel J. Cutler in honor of his wife. She died some time ago, but Mr. Cutler was just recently killed in the bombings near the Piano Emporium, which he owned, and where I work. He hired me. His son, Thomas, owns it now.”
“I was sorry to hear about Mr. Cutler. I bought my piano from him.” He paused for a second, then said, “I’ll have to be sure to tell my friend Adam that you’re in the program at The School of Musical Arts.” Standing up, he strolled toward the kitchen to check on lunch.
Returning, Blake asked us to be seated at the table. It seemed he had hired a cook and staff to serve us Christmas lunch. We were presented with a scrumptious crown rib roast surrounded by cranberries. There were a number of side dishes, including wild rice pilaf and cashew-peach sweet potatoes. Warm rolls and breads also made their way around the table. Ice water in crystal glasses and goblets filled with a delightful, red punch sat above our plates. As we ate, I listened to the Holbrooks reminisce about past Christmases and to the barbs they exchanged about good-old Wisteria, Kansas. They laughed and told jokes. Mara being the funniest, of course. I smiled and laughed right along with them. After thinking we couldn’t eat another bite, one of the staff asked if we’d like dessert, a Devil’s Food Caramel Torte.
“It sounds delicious,” Mrs. Holbrook said. “Could we maybe have it later with our coffee?”
“Sure, ma’am,” came the reply.
Blake’s apartment must have been professionally decorated for the holidays. It was magnificent and the whole place smelled of pine and cinnamon. His tree was tall, like ours, but that was where the similarities ended. His was beautifully decorated with white lights, all turquoise ornaments, with gold ribbon threaded throughout, and a shining star on the top. The tree sat in between two windows that looked out on to one of Manhattan’s streets. I didn’t see many folks on the sidewalk below, which seemed strange to me now that I’d lived in New York for a while.
Mr. Holbrook played Santa Claus and passed out the gifts to each of us until there weren’t any left under the tree. There were oohs and ahhs from everyone as we opened our gifts. Mara let out a screech when she saw that her parents had given her an amazing array of paints, canvases, and a new easel. She hugged them both with tears in her eyes. I had received a couple of lovely, soft wool scarves, one in a red paisley and one in green, to wrap around my neck this winter while making my way back and forth to the Emporium.
The day ended with a small slice of the chocolate dessert along with coffee or tea. Blake and his father also shared what I guessed were spiked glasses of eggnog.
“Merry Christmas,” Blake said as he hugged Mara and I before seeing us down the elevator to the street where a cab was waiting to take us back to SoHo. “What’s your phone number, Anna Louise? Maybe I’ll give you a call one day soon. We can talk pianos and maybe play a duet or two.”
“I’d like that, Blake. Thank you for a wonderful Christmas.” I gave him my number as he entered it into his phone. I thought about what a far cry this day had been compared to what Christmas in Wisteria with my family would’ve been like.
Mara raised an eyebrow as we climbed into the cab. “Blake must like you. I’ve never known him to date much. Always too busy with his studies and concerts.”
“Do you think I dare tell him he’s the reason I’m taking lessons and writing music?”
“Maybe over dinner sometime, but not right away,” Mara replied.
“Your family is so kind and considerate. I always liked coming to your house growing up.”
“They are great parents,” Mara replied. “I feel so bad about how your mother treated you, but you’re free now and doing amazing things with your life. You’ll make it, Anna Louise.”
“Thanks, Mara. You’re the best friend anyone could ever have.”
“So are you, Anna Louise.”
~ ~ ~
Even though I’d enjoyed spending Christmas Day with the Holbrooks and treasured the gifts I’d received, I thought about Savannah spending the holiday in the hospital alone. As I changed out of the dress I’d worn to Blake’s and into my jeans and a sweater, I asked Mara, “Would you like to go with me to visit Savannah in the hospital? She’s probably all alone. I bought a gift I’d like to take to her.”
“Of course. I haven’t seen her since the Christmas festivities at the hospital. I know you have. How is she doing?”
“She seems to be doing better, but a lot of things still scare her. Beth and Ashley spend as much time with her as they can too. Savannah and Ashley are becoming friends.”
“Ashley is so caring. She may be the one to get Savannah to talk about herself and her family. Is Savannah’s arm still in a cast?”
“She’s still in a cast, but I think she’ll be able to navigate what I bought her. I’ll grab the present, then we can head to the hospital.”
“I’m going to text Daniel about where we’re going. He’s coming by later so we can exchange gifts.”
“Can I ask what you bought Daniel?” I questioned, retrieving Savannah’s gift from my room.
As Mara slipped into her dark-purple down jacket, she said, “Don’t laugh, but I bought this big popcorn bucket and filled it with bags of his favorite sweet treats, a package of combs, a bottle of good smelling shampoo, a gift certificate to Bloomingdale’s, two tickets to a Broadway show, and a booklet of car wash tickets. He takes me everywhere and I thought maybe I could at least wash his car for him.”
“That’s a great gift, Mara. Daniel will love it.” The cab pulled up and we climbed in. “Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital,” I said to the driver.
At the hospital, I paid the cabbie as Mara and I walked up the sidewalk and into the hospital. Savannah was watching a kids’ show on television as we came into her room. “Merry Christmas, Savannah,” I said. “I have something for you. Hope you like it.”
“Thank you,” she said, looking closely at the gift wrap covered with lots of different frolicking snowmen. “They look like Frosty the Snowman.”
“They do, don’t they?” Mara said. “Hi, Savannah. It’s good to see you again. Do you remember me doing all of the face paintings at the Christmas festivities not long ago?”
“I remember you. You’re Anna Louise’s friend.”
“And roommate, but don’t tell anyone, okay?”
Savannah smiled at Mara and started to open her present. I’d bought her a purple kid’s computer tablet so she could play games and learn how to do some other things on it, too. I had checked with the hospital to be sure they had Wi-Fi so Savannah would be able to use her tablet right away. Her eyes grew huge when she saw what it was. “I’ll set it up for you, if that would help.”
“Yes. I wouldn’t know what to do.” Before long, we had it running, then she picked out her favorite game she’d played on my phone coming to New York. “This is awesome. Thank you, Anna Louise.”
“You’re welcome, Savannah.” I hugged her tight. “Do you know when you’ll be leaving the hospital and where you might be going?”
“I don’t know when, but Ashley said the other day she’d like to take me home with her. Wait until she sees my tablet. She and I can play together.”
“It sounds like you and Ashley are becoming good friends. Is that right?” I asked.
“I’ve never had a friend, but I think Ashley is my new friend.”
I gazed over at Mara and she looked back at me. I could tell Mara’s heart was breaking as much as mine was. “Mara and I have to go home now, but I’ll be back to see you soon. I’ll play one of the games with you when I return.”
“That would be fun. Like we did on the bus.”
“Exactly. You get well in the meantime,” I said, giving her another big hug.
Mara hugged her too. “I’m glad I got to see you again. Get well soon.”
Back in the cab, Mara said, “That was the perfect gift for Savannah. I could tell she loves playing games.”
“Thanks, Mara. I wasn’t sure if I should get her a tablet or not. But I think it will help her make friends while she’s still in the hospital. Kids love to play games.”
“Big kids, too.” Mara laughed.
“I’ve never mentioned this, but Savannah’s mom reminded me so much of my own mom when I saw her treating Savannah badly on the bus. I knew I needed to reach out to Savannah or it was going to be an awfully long ride, and when I found out they were going to be getting off at the same stop in Manhattan, I was glad Savannah was sitting with me and not her mom.”
“It’s so hard for me to understand that kind of treatment, having the loving parents I do,” Mara replied. “Why would anyone want to harm their own child?”
“Anger and poverty are two reasons I can think of right off the top of my head. My mother is an angry person and I think Savannah and her mom lived in a kind of poverty we can’t even imagine.”
“I guess that’s why we celebrate Christmas every year,” Mara said. “There’s a reason you and Savannah were brought together when you were. Merry Christmas, Anna Louise.”
“Merry Christmas, Mara.”