Wintergreen

two more artificial trees in the other rooms. She’d told Johnny before he was old enough to walk that it was impossible to have enough Christmas in the house…

“Can you believe it?” Johnny demanded, looking at his lopsided volcano.

“You’re a genius,” Lorna agreed, ruffling his tousled hair affectionately. “In the meantime, do you think there’s a chance that either of you geniuses might condescend to pick up a bit?”

“What does condescend mean?” Brian asked Johnny.

“She just means move it.”

Chapter 11

“I have no intention of leaving you with this mess,” Freda said stoutly.

Lorna held up her friend’s coat. “Don’t be silly. It looks lots worse than it is, and the two of us have all day.” She hugged Freda and then little Brian, and the Noonans scooted out the door, destined to be at least a few minutes late for their family Christmas gathering.

Lorna’s smile had been bright for Freda, and it remained bright as she turned back to Johnny…and the disaster zone of the living room. The sea of wrapping paper and ribbons and discarded boxes was at high tide. Something to do, she insisted to herself, and in the meantime she would determinedly pull herself together and stop feeling these ridiculous waves of aching loneliness.

“The thing is,” Johnny said, “to get it all located in one place.”

“Exactly.” Her eyebrows rose at the unexpected comment. Housekeeping had never been Johnny’s metier. “It won’t take us long, kiddo. Then maybe we can take ourselves outside for a good long walk in the snow and a look at the Christmas lights.”

As she bent over to gather up some bows, she felt something light and solid hit her backside. Pivoting, she saw a flash of color hit her in the stomach. “Johnny!”

He was bunching up wads of wrapping paper into balls and pelting her with them. Another three missiles hit her while her jaw was still gaping. “I’m just getting it all in one place, Mom. Stand still. At the same time that we get the room fixed up again, I can get my aim down just right.”

“Why, you little-”

She tossed one back; that made him giggle. It had landed five feet from him in the Christmas tree. Obviously, she had to try another.

“At least try to hit me!”

“I am!”

When the doorbell rang, Lorna was laughing. Amid a bombardment of colored-paper balls and streaming ribbons, she made her way, protesting, to the door. Hurriedly, she tried to brush a cellophane ribbon out of her hair as she opened the door. Freezing air suddenly rushed into her lungs, and the brilliance of sun on snow momentarily blinded her. Not for long. She didn’t need to see Matthew to know his laughter, to recognize the touch of his hand. He plucked the ribbon from her hair and leaned forward to tease her lips ever so lightly with the frosty smoothness of his own. “Merry Christmas, Misha.”

For just an instant, her heart stilled. Only for a moment. The sadness haunting her eyes abruptly shimmered tremulously, trying to escape all at once in two huge tears as she threw her arms around him. “You didn’t call, damn you!” she whispered. “Matthew, I…”

His eyes glinted past her, even as his arms were drawing her close. “Merry Christmas, Johnny! I found a package under my tree this morning with your name on it…” Lorna would have at least drawn back slightly, suddenly aware of her son standing so still, but Matthew wouldn’t let her. He cradled her close with one arm, and extended the shiny scarlet package with the other.

“Thank you,” Johnny said uncertainly. But he didn’t take it. “Matthew, I didn’t know I was supposed to buy you a present.”

“Because you weren’t. This isn’t even new, Johnny, I just thought you might like it.”

Johnny took another look at the long, powerful arm around his mother, but resentment was clearly doing battle with simple curiosity. Slowly, he came forward and took Matthew’s gift. “Can I open it?”

“I can’t imagine why not.”

While Johnny was very carefully removing the wrappings, Matthew took off his coat. “I missed you,” he mouthed silently. His hand reached up to touch her cheek, his thumb moving slowly back and forth on her soft skin. She leaned her cheek into the cradle of his palm. As if a huge bubble had suddenly filled her soul, she felt lighthearted, champagne-high. Matthew had understood her the other night. He would not have come back if he didn’t believe her. She could see the love in his eyes.

“Mom…”

Lorna pivoted back to Johnny, who was frowning worriedly at her. “I don’t think I’m supposed to take something like this,” he whispered anxiously.

The scarlet paper had covered a long, rectangular wooden box, exquisitely carved. Johnny opened it, to reveal a chess set with ebony and alabaster figures. Real ebony. Real alabaster. Her son’s surprise and delight were an easy read in those big dark eyes of his, but Lorna had engrained in him not to covet things that could not possibly belong to him.

“I warned you it wasn’t new,” Matthew said easily. He crouched down next to the boy. “I had it when I was a kid. So did my grandfather. I guarantee it’s a good set to learn chess with. And I just thought maybe you might have some interest in the game…”

Johnny did. Immediately. Lorna watched, like a statue, the two of them together. Matthew forced no closeness, and perhaps that was why Johnny gradually forgot that moment of resentment when Matthew had first walked in. Lorna could almost hear the little wheels in her son’s head turning. So Matthew was not always mean. Johnny had smarted over that incident with the neighbor. He was not going to commit any rash action again that he didn’t think out very, very clearly…but he wasn’t used to anyone really coming down on him hard when he misbehaved, any more than he was used to a man spending time with him.

Johnny glowed, eventually. And Lorna turned her attention back to Matthew. The gift to her son said it all. An heirloom that was passed down in the family… Matthew was wearing dark slacks and a cranberry wool pullover, a Christmassy shade that enhanced his dark coloring. His eyes never flickered to hers, but she knew he was aware of her. He reached for the coffee cup before she’d even set it down, tugged just for an instant at her wrist to ask her to stay next to him.

She did, with her white wool skirt tucked under her. At least she tried to keep it that way. She listened to Matthew explaining why the pawns were the most special pieces on the board, even though most of them would have to die. The queen’s incredible powers; the knight’s subtle ability to protect a piece. She listened to him talk about the queen and the knight and wondered vaguely how everything suddenly had a sexual connotation. She had to pull herself together, yet when she tried to get up to restore order to the drastically chaotic living room, Matthew tugged her skirt unobtrusively, and she settled back down again. She wanted to hear about queens and knights anyway. And in the meantime, she was within touching distance. Within at least smelling distance.

Matthew wrinkled his nose.

“Johnny gave me perfume for Christmas,” she informed him.

“It took my whole allowance,” Johnny admitted expansively.

“Johnny,” Matthew said gravely, as he moved forward a pawn, “you’re due an increase in allowance. You’re nearly ten, aren’t you?”

“In just a couple months.”

“Six months.” She smiled. So he liked L’air du Temps, and not Lily of the Valley. Unfortunately, she still had to spray on more before they all got up to leave. Matthew’s mouth twitched, but Johnny knew too well she always sprayed on perfume before going anywhere.

She wasn’t even sure where they were going. For a drive. Matthew vaguely promised Johnny something about seeing an electric train that took up an entire basement, but she hadn’t really listened. It didn’t matter. What mattered was being with him. Hearing his laughter blended with Johnny’s. He held her hand as they walked to the car, ignoring her son’s sudden silence, ignoring again the short spell of sullenness when Lorna took the front seat