during dinner, I saw Kate’s lively face look with concern at her son’s great-great-aunt; and when we moved back into the front parlor after dinner, I pulled Kate aside to ask if Mrs. Lattimore was ill.
“I’m afraid so, but she won’t admit it. She’s ninety-one and she says she’s not going to spend her last few months in chemo with a bald head. Worse, she’s made me promise not to say anything to Anne or Sigrid, but I don’t know, Deborah. Maybe when you—” She clapped her hand over her mouth like a guilty child.
“Maybe when I what?” I said.
She grinned. “Never mind. You’ll soon find out.” Then raising her voice, she said, “Okay, everybody. Who’s ready to open presents?”
“Me,” cried Nancy Faye’s daughter Jean.
“Me, too!” Cal and Mary Pat sang out at the same time, which made them dissolve in giggles.
Soon the living room floor was awash in torn Christmas paper and discarded ribbons and bows.
There were the usual sweaters and scarves for the adults and toys and books for the children, but what blew me away was the gift that Kate and Rob gave us.
Elaborately wrapped in a small gold box was what looked like two brass house keys.
Puzzled, I said, “What do they unlock?”
“My New York apartment,” said Kate with a happy smile. “You guys never got a honeymoon and you’ve never been to New York together. The apartment’s going to be empty for most of January because my tenant’s going to Italy then, so I asked if you could housesit for part of the time.”
“Really?” I looked at Dwight. “Can we do this?”
“Well,” he said as a slow smile spread over his face, “I’ve got a lot of vacation time coming and you haven’t taken off much this year.”
“Here,” said Miss Emily, handing Dwight an envelope. “This goes with it.”
Inside were tickets to a Broadway show that was getting good reviews. I hadn’t spent much time in New York since shortly after Mother died when I ran away from home and did some stupid things. Suddenly my head was filled with images of the city: the crowded streets, the delicious-smelling delis, the small funky clubs, the graffiti, the library where I first met—Well. Never mind
“Oh, golly, Kate!” I jumped up to give her a hug. “And all we got you was a sweater.”
“Which I love,” she assured me.
By nine o’clock, all the presents had been opened and the little ones were yawning. As Dwight and Cal were taking some of the gifts we’d received out to the car, Mrs. Lattimore pulled me aside and thrust into my hands a small heavy package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. “I’ve been so worried about what to do about this,” she said. “When Kate told me she was going to lend you and Dwight her apartment, I knew this was the answer. I can’t trust it to the mails and Dwight
“Excuse me?” I said, bewildered by both the package and her words.
With a hint of her old imperiousness, she lifted her chin and fixed me with her crystalline gray eyes. “Please take this to my daughter Anne in New York. She’ll know what to do with it.”
Before I could protest, she turned back into the room and called for her coat.
“I’m ready to go now,” she said, and Rob, who was to drive her home, immediately escorted her down the steps.
There was nothing else to do but to slide the package into a shopping bag with some of Cal’s toys and grab my own coat.
Once home, Cal announced that he was going straight to bed so that Christmas morning would come sooner. With a self-conscious grin, he hung his stocking on a hook over the fireplace and went and got into his pajamas. Dwight and I tucked him in and Dwight said, “Sleep tight, buddy. Sure hope Santa leaves you something besides switches and coal.”
“Not funny, Dad,” he said with a big yawn.
Because we had to wait till he was asleep to help Santa come, I went and put on my own pajamas.
When I came back out, Dwight was sitting on the floor watching his train circle the tree, its small headlight shining and an occasional low
I sat down on the floor beside him. “That’s a pretty amazing gift from Kate and Rob.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“You do want to go, don’t you?”
“A week in New York? With you? Of course I do. It’s such a great city.”
I was surprised. “You sound like you know it pretty well. I didn’t realize.”
“Guess I never talked much about it. After Jonna and I split up and she left D.C. to move back to Virginia, I used to take the train up to New York two or three times a month. Hey, why don’t we do that, too?”
“Do what?”
“Take the train instead of flying.”
“I’ve never been on a train,” I said.
Now it was his turn to be surprised. “In that case, then, maybe we should splurge and get a compartment.” He gave me an exaggerated leer. “Get an early start on our honeymoon.”
I leered right back at him. “You saying there are even more things I don’t know about you?”
