Home for the Holidays
This story is dedicated to the memory of the twenty-six children and adults at the Sandy Hook School in Newtown, Connecticut who will never return to their families for the holidays. Sandy Hook is barely three miles from my home and some of the families of that small town attend my church with their children. Please let your prayers be with all of them throughout this blessed season.
Prologue
The christening was over and now everything could return to normal for the Everetts. Rob Everett had never been as happy as he was the morning his sons Bob and Ben checked out of the hotel, the day after Maisie's christening, and went back to their own lives and work. It had been a long weekend and awhile those who were staying at the hotel viewed it as one big party, others in the family saw it for what it was, a sacred religious ceremony. The tension between the two perspectives had had a bit of a spoiler effect for those caught in the middle.
One of Phoebe's cousins was staying behind, but the rest also went back to their own lives. When they left for their evening flights back to England or wherever else they came from, only Sylvia remained, along with her mother Annabel. He was grateful for Annabel's presence. He saw her as an ally in his latest challenge with his wife.
David and Lewis had all the legal documents prepared and filed for the transfer of custody. Trelawney would go home on Christmas Eve so that she could be with her sister and family on Christmas morning. Everyone was pleased with the happy ending with one exception, his wife Catherine.
He himself had needed no convincing that Trelawney belonged back at home with Phoebe. She had been living in their home since January. She was a very good and quiet child most of the time. With only a few incidents, she had been very little trouble, but Rob wanted his house, not to mention his wife, to himself once again. Most importantly, the child wanted to be home.
When he and Catherine had moved to town a year ago to help Hal and Phoebe through a rough time, neither one of them had given much thought as to what would happen when things settled down again. Things had moved from crisis to crisis, but once the baby had born over three months ago, they had calmed down considerably.
Despite this fact, Catherine had kept herself deeply enmeshed with the family down the street. He himself had taken a step back. He wanted to reassess the present situation as it had evolved over the past three months. He could see that his son Hal's sabbatical had accomplished its primary task, which was to give him the opportunity to see how much his family, all of his family, needed him at home.
The heavy lifting of creating his blended family had essentially been completed. Hal had developed an excellent parenting partnership with Phoebe and they had both worked to enforce a schedule of chores for the children, each according to his own age and ability. Their discipline was sound and loving. Essentially, they all were thriving. With the exception of Butch, who was going through some personal issues, the children were all happy. He was confident that when Hal returned to teaching in January, he would continue to play this active role in his family's life.
Catherine's difficulty lay in the fact that she had really liked the way that the family had needed them throughout last year. And now, she liked her daily interactions with Phoebe, who enjoyed sharing with her all of the goings on in the household. She not only asked her advice, she accepted it unsolicited. But Rob was restless in his own way.
When he had retired six years ago, he had looked forward to the free time to read, golf, and putter around his workroom that he would now have. At that time, Helen was still well and Hal's family seemed as distant as ever. Ben and Bob had their own lives, but periodically did their filial duty and dropped by. Then Helen became ill and despite the fact that they would have gladly helped, Bernice went into full protective mode and insisted that they were not needed.
Since they had lost contact with the family on a regular basis during Helen's illness and then during the years of upset with the revolving door of housekeepers, he had not really factored his youngest son's family into the calculus of his life following retirement. They would make the annual weekend visit and then return to their own lives. Since Catherine and Helen had never hit it off, they had never really become close to the grandkids anyway.
Then Hal married Phoebe and suddenly they had the family of grandchildren that they had always wanted. He had absolutely no regrets about either stepping up when the family needed them most or moving their lives to the new community. In fact, he was enjoying his own role mentoring some of the high school kids that he worked with on the production team at the community theatre. Having grandchildren in town meant that they had developed social connections with other families. But he also missed the time that he had spent with his wife before.
He missed their own daily conversations. He missed their little spontaneous weekend jaunts. He missed his freedom. He knew that if they wanted to take off for a weekend, Hal and Phoebe would be only too happy to have Trelawney stay over to their house. But Catherine always had an excuse for not going, usually some commitment involving Trelawney.
He felt that it was exciting to be living so close to the grandchildren that he had never really known. But he also knew that it was time for a little more space in all of their lives. At some point he feared that Phoebe would begin to view Catherine as an intrusion into their lives. And if Catherine refused to let go of Trelawney graciously, the relationship might also be irreparably damaged by that.
His only concern about cutting the intimate bonds too quickly was his grandson Butch. It appeared that just as the other children were settling happily into their lives, he was almost taking pleasure in tormenting his father with his bad attitude. The years between Helen's death and Hal's remarriage had not been easy for any of them. They had always presumed that it was most difficult for Prudence, who had been left motherless and without any memory of her mother.
After a year of nurturing care by her stepmother and her Grandmother Bernice's reintegration to the family and willingness to step in and help fill the void left by her birth mother, she was now a happy and normal seven year old. She was not perfect. She was still a tattletale and always looking to deflect attention towards herself. But even in that she was normal and that was what mattered to the rest of them.
His grandson Hal had always had the benefit of sharing his father's interests in science. Even in the worst of Hal's difficulties in balancing family and career, young Hal had always been able to engage him. But Hal had been devoted to his mother and while he had come to love Phoebe as Nanny, it took him longer to fully accept her as his Mom. His transition to high school had been smoother than expected and he remained the mature voice of reason in the house, quietly stepping in to help when his father wasn't available.
Hal and Prudence, each in their own way, had lovingly accepted Trelawney into the family. They had taken to her as she was. Prudence loved having the imaginative older girl to play with. Hal, once he had decided that she was "crazy" and that he would never understand her, was very protective of her. Technically she was his aunt, but he treated her more like a younger sister.
But somehow, Butch had managed to put himself outside of the family. Rob still was unable to figure out what had happened. Butch had never had a close relationship with his father. They shared very few interests and as the middle child, until Maisie came along that is, he was always overshadowed by Hal and outdone in attention-seeking by Prudence. Still, since the first days that she had come to the family, Phoebe had always reached out to him in particular.
Beyond that, she had always gently nudged Hal in the direction of developing a deeper relationship with him. He was a baseball star. While Hal was athletic, his interests had always been in swimming and golf. Butch was not much of a student, but he succeeded where he was interested. Since he enjoyed working with his hands, Rob had taught him a lot about carpentry.
Butch was his favorite grandchild, probably because of this and the fact that he was all boy. As the father of three sons and a former scout master and Little League coach, he appreciated that. They were never at a loss for things to discuss. This past summer, when his part of the "family support program," was to drive him to his baseball games and practices, they had both really enjoyed it. But something had changed this year in school.
Butch was thriving in school under the guidance of his teacher Mr. McGough. Rob had only met him a couple of times, but he always had praise for whatever Butch was doing. He told him once that Butch was a classic underachiever. He liked to challenge and push buttons, but he was very curious and interested in everything around him. He was also full of energy and sitting still made traditional learning difficult for him.
Rob understood that and was glad that Butch was now making good grades, but his resentment against his father was unnatural. It was one thing to feel under-appreciated for who he was, but it was another to continuously refuse to accept his father's apology for that behavior and an invitation to start over. At first Rob had thought that the problem was McGough, but now he realized that it was something else.
Butch had been a friend of Tim Lenihan since the time when they had worked together on a community service project. Tim was essentially a good kid who had gotten caught up in the fallout from his parents' divorce. Like his older brother Mike, his father had rejected him and then made a very public fight over the money that he owed in spousal and child support. He had seen his father verbally abuse his mother and treat his older brother even worse. But the final straw came when his father's girlfriend moved in with him.
His father had the ridiculous idea that Tim's biweekly overnight visits could happen while he slept in the other bedroom with his girlfriend. Even if Lois hadn't put her foot down, Tim would have refused for his own sake. At his age, he had only a rudimentary understanding of what men and women did in bed together. What little he knew made him very uncomfortable at the idea that his father was not only doing it with someone other than his mother, they weren't even married.
Insulted by his son's "prudishness," his father refused to pay tuition for the Catholic school where Tim had gone since kindergarten. Early in the fall, Tim had to switch to his local public school. The result was disastrous. Unlike Franklin, where his grandchildren went, the principal and guidance counselor made no effort to help with his transition. He was thrown into a fifth grade class with over thirty other children who had been together since kindergarten. Not only was he the outsider, everyone knew why he was there. It was humiliating.
The end result was that Butch was his last friend left. He complained constantly about his father and all of the injustices in his life. Butch not only listened, he commiserated. As a result, he inflated his own past injuries by his father and was making him pay, so to speak. But actually, it was the whole family that was paying.
The Figalillys were shocked by his behavior, especially those who had known him before the christening. Such insolence and disobedience was simply not tolerated in their culture and more than one of them threatened to have a sit down with him. Rob thought that might be a pretty good idea, but Phoebe prevailed upon them to let it go.
It was then that Rob decided that he was going to get to the bottom of Butch's issues. He might not be able to solve the problem, but he was determined to get things on the mend. But once again, because Catherine was putting her entire focus on Trelawney and her issues, that came first. Ironically, that went against what Trelawney would have wanted anyway. Of all of them, it was Trelawney who still had the most patience with Butch.
Perhaps it was because she had lost nearly all of her own family, but Trelawney placed enormous importance on the bonds of family and the love of parents and children. Rather than being annoyed with Butch, the way that the rest of them were, she only seemed saddened. She was a child filled with contradictions in any case. Rob sometimes felt that she would never be truly happy again, yet being with her sister and niece brought her closest. And that was why Rob wanted to send her home to them for the holidays.
What to do About Mother
Hal was very relieved when nearly all the relatives departed. Only Phoebe's cousin Sylvia and her mother Aunt Annabel were left. Hal could not think of two relatives that he would have more preferred to stay. Sylvia was a kind and generous soul. She was a gentle person who quietly went about her life working to help others.
Wherever Sylvia went, she left behind good deeds in her place. And she never took credit for them. Sylvia was the same age as his wife Phoebe yet for some reason Phoebe had always been closer to Sylvia's younger sister Emmeline. Hal would have liked Emmeline more if she were not quite so bossy or cynical. Fortunately, Emmeline had a commitment elsewhere and would then go directly to the village for Liam's wedding.
Emmeline's mother Annabel had only come for the first time to visit them for Maisie's christening. As in the case of Sylvia, he had liked her the instant he met her. She too, was a kind and gentle person. Although she had originally been prepared to return with her husband once the festivities were over, she had prevailed upon him that she might stay longer.
She had promised her sister Meg, who was Phoebe's mother, to help her to look after her younger sister Trelawney if anything ever happened to her. Annabel, like all of their kind, took such promises very seriously. While there was no empirical evidence that anything was really wrong with Trelawney, it seemed that she had felt a deep attachment to Annabel as soon as she had seen her again.
Young Trelawney was especially happy that Aunt Annabel promised to stay long enough to see her portray the part of Clara in the Nutcracker ballet that was being performed by the girls' dance school. Trelawney had only reluctantly agreed to take the role. She abhorred the spotlight and it was only after her best friend, Francine, had prevailed upon her that she acquiesced. But now that her auntie would be present, she was a little more enthusiastic.
Another reason that Hal was pleased that she had stayed was that Uncle David had finally made the official decision that Trelawney would return to their home. She had been living up the street with his mother for the past ten months, but the challenges of their lives at home that had necessitated the move no longer existed. The baby was born. Trelawney was happily settled in a new school. The nightmares of the unicorn that had tormented her were over. And most importantly, the separation was making both sisters unhappy.
Mother had always been a strong-willed individual. It had caused problems with his first wife and to this day, she still held a slight grudge against her memory. Phoebe was much better able to handle her personality. In fact, what Helen had regarded as overbearing tendencies to meddle, Phoebe viewed as helpful suggestions and advice. But even she was not going to give in on this issue.
Her feelings for her sister ran too deep. She needed her as much as Trelawney needed Phoebe. Mother enjoyed her role in Trelawney's life. While the girl loved her very much, she still wanted to live with her sister. David had made his decision and he and Dad had filed the papers with the court so that custody legally reverted to Phoebe and himself. However Mother was still stubbornly refusing to discuss it.
Neither Phoebe nor Trelawney possessed the sort of personality to confront her. So while Phoebe worried, Trelawney blithely went on with her life. Hal knew that on Christmas Eve, as planned, she would have her possessions neatly packed and ready to move. Phoebe was deeply concerned that there might be a rift in their relationship with Mother because of it. Hal decided that since Phoebe was inclined to give it that old British stiff upper lip, he would approach Aunt Annabel to ask for her help.
One afternoon, while Mother and Phoebe were out shopping, Annabel was helping him babysit. Since Maisie was napping, they had a chance to talk alone.
"I'm not really sure of how to approach this," said Hal, after he had explained his concerns. "On the one hand, I don't know how we could have managed for the past year without her help, but there really is no longer the need for her to be so actively involved in our lives."
"Well," replied Annabel. "Your father made it pretty clear to David that he wanted her to become more disengaged. He wants to travel and he wants to put more space between you and them. But Catherine doesn't seem to want to let go. It's a little odd to me that she's not falling in line with her husband's wishes. Back in the village, such decisions are always made by the men. I tried to explain that to her."
"Well, here in the states, women have always had a more active role in family decisions. It's not like it's some new thing that's come in with women's lib. And Phoebe and Trelawney won't stand up to her," he sighed.
"Neither will you," she said sharply. "Don't forget that Catherine is your mother. If you don't specifically take Phoebe's part in this matter, then Catherine will take the view that you are on her side. How can Phoebe stand up to her if you are unwilling to stand with her?"
Hal felt uncomfortable. He hated confrontation as much as his wife did. But Annabel had a very good point. This was the kind of thing that in the past he had taken great pains to avoid in his family relationships. It occurred to him, and not for the first time, that if he had been more involved in the dynamic between Helen and Mother, they might have gotten along better, to the benefit of all involved. Still, he wasn't sure of what to do or say.
"You don't seem to have these kinds of issues with your oldest daughter back at home," he commented to change the subject. "You seem to respect a few boundaries."
"No, we don't have such problems" she said slowly. "But there's a difference. I have a very active life of my own in the village. I've lived there for my whole life. Your mother moved down here to help you and to be closer to the grandchildren. She has begun to make her own friends, but many of them are parents of Trelawney's friends. She is active at church and it would be good if she would cultivate more of those relationships.
"And she has told me on more than one occasion that it is thanks to Phoebe that she has finally become a grandmother in more than just name. There's no reason for her to be a mother again. She does tend to spoil the little one, you know. Even Rob told me that Phoebe has always taken a harder line with her when it comes to the discipline.
"And despite her protectiveness of her younger daughter, Meg never spoiled her. In fact, she was the one who taught Phoebe not to let her get away with too much. She may be sweet and simple, but like any child, she is capable of manipulating the emotions of others to get her way."
"That's all true," said Hal. "But I don't know how we can make Mother let go of Trelawney and develop more friendships with, um, women her own age."
"Well you can't," she replied simply. "But you can also only mollify her up to a point about the move. You all need to stop apologizing for bringing the girl home. I wish that David hadn't been so set on Christmas for it because a quick, clean break would have been easier for everyone."
"The only thing that I see as good in that timing," answered Hal. "Is that it will happen over a school break so that everyone, at our house anyway, can get used to the new arrangement before things get busy again."
"Yes, you're right," she agreed. "I had not thought of that. How do the other children feel about her returning?"
"Hal is looking forward to having someone to share the heavier chores with," he said. "And he would never admit it, but he really does love her. He certainly is very protective. Prudence loves having her to play with. If Maisie could speak, I know that she would be in favor of it. I can't tell you about Butch. Before she moved out, he wanted to get rid of her because of her various issues. I don't think that he cares much now."
"He doesn't seem to care much about anyone or anything in the family, does he?" she asked.
"You certainly aren't shy about speaking your mind," said Hal mildly.
Annabel smiled.
"The kids call it my 'blitzkrieg' approach," she explained. "As you know, we can sense the other's thoughts. Remember that I'm the mother of six and they were certainly a handful to raise. If I wanted to get something out of one of them, I had to drop the question very quickly and bluntly so that the answer popped into their heads before they could filter or conceal it. They know that I do it, but it still catches them off guard."
"I wish I had your powers," he said with a sigh.
"You know," she replied sharply once again. "I really wish that you wouldn't call them 'powers.' It makes us sound as if we are some kind of superhuman beings. Yes, we have strong intuitions and a great deal of prescience. We know things that others don't, but that does not make us 'powerful.' Trelawney has stronger intuitions and connections with the universal consciousness than anyone that I know. I have also never known one whose mental balance is more fragile."
"I apologize," he replied sincerely. "You are not the first family member who has taken me to task for my own perceptions of your abilities. Is that the . . . errrr, word to use? Emmeline gave me hell for referring to it as 'it' before."
"Well, I don't know why she did that," said Annabel shaking her head. "But I suppose that 'ability' is an unambiguous term with no other implications. Personally, I prefer the word 'gifts,' since that describes what they are most precisely. But if you use that other term then you should also realize that all of us do not have these abilities in equal measure. Sylvia's powers of perception are much stronger than Em's, Jimmie's, or Lew's.
"Christabel's don't seem as great because she lives at home in the village where they are less noticeable, but her's are quite strong as well. She will need them. She already has three children and she will certainly have more. Liam is a difficult read, but since he has decided to give up his galavanting and settle down, it seems that they are stronger than we first thought."
"Phoebe's are rather strong," Hal commented.
"Yes and no," replied Annabel. "The loss of her parents and then the situation with Trelawney has weakened her psychically more than you realize. She relies very much on your strength, which is why you must really step in where Catherine is concerned. As Maisie continues to grow and thrive and when Trelawney moves home she will develop a greater sense of peace and equilibrium.
"This will help her to mend emotionally. There really is a lot more to the stereotype of British stoicism than you may realize. Like all those of her temperament, Phoebe has always been inclined to put the needs of others before her own. That is the root of her problem with Catherine."
"Yes, that makes sense," answered Hal. "Being on sabbatical and having the time to place a greater focus on my family has made me realize how much they all need me, not just Phoebe. And you are not the first person to try to tell me about Phoebe's self-sacrificing nature. I understand now that as her husband, I am the one who needs to help her here.
"However, i have already decided to make changes in the way that I conduct my own life. When I return to work in January, I fully intend to be less career-obsessed and more family oriented. I think that I have finally come to realize that every time that I said yes to something at work, I was saying no in some way to my family."
"I'm glad that you see it," said Annabel approvingly. "It was our only real concern about you marrying Phoebe, you know. It wasn't just for the little one that David was worried, last winter. He was worried for Phoebe too. She's a homely girl and such girls need their husbands to be at home with them and their children. Her Mum was like that. Meg would often go out to the workshop looking for her Owen. She missed him although it might only have been an hour or two since she'd seen him. Christabel is like that too about her Freddy."
"What does her husband do for a living?" asked Hal, suddenly curious.
"He's a veterinarian," she replied. "He has his office in the front of the house, so he's there all the time except when he makes calls. Christy used to do his books for him, but since she has all the babies, his sister Gwyneth does now. She's a dear. I hope some lad will wake up and see all of her sterling qualities, and forget about the marriage portion."
"Yes, I had heard that the family was not well-to-do," he replied.
"They're not," she said simply. "But they're good people and right now that counts for more with us than money. Worrying about that got us in big trouble with Phoebe. Young Mary has a bit of spirit. I think that that is why Liam chose her. But she's still young and once she settles down to raise her babies she'll make him a fine wife. She'll also keep him in line so to speak."
"Then how did Christabel end up with Freddy, if there wasn't a lot of money to count on for her to live on?"
"Freddy was always a bright lad," she explained. "He went off to university and then came back home. That's unusual but he said that he wanted to work with the large farm animals. He could make a sight more money curing the colds of people's cats and dogs in London, but it wasn't the life for him. He and Christy live comfortably and he will be able to support a nice large family. That will make her happier than diamonds or furs."
"I guess that you could say the same about Phoebe living on a Professor's salary," he replied.
"Yes," she said. "But you also haven't touched the marriage portion, we've noticed. And the only money that has been taken for Trelawney's upkeep has been for the school tuition."
"Yes," he said. "However, I have a feeling that Christabel isn't the only one who will have more children. I haven't discussed it with Phoebe yet, but I foresee the need to move to a larger house or put an addition on this one. And I would prefer not to take out a second mortgage, if we enlarge. We're comfortable in this neighborhood and the kids are happy in their schools. I really would prefer to stay put."
"Then use the money, or part of it, for that," she stated. "You know that you don't have to ask Phoebe. It's not her money anymore. She won't be expecting you to."
"Well," he said. "With all due respect to your customs, since we are in America, I would prefer to talk it over with her before making any final decisions. As long as she is amenable to staying here and putting an addition on the house, I plan to move forward with it. I am sure that she will agree, but this is how I would like to handle it."
"Then that is how you should handle it," she replied firmly. "Now take that same firm stand with Catherine as you just did with me and you won't have any more problems there."
Yeah, right, thought Hal later. He was glad that he had his father on his side. Dad was itching to do some more traveling and he would like a little more freedom for the two of them. Mother had a tendency to prefer to stay home with Trelawney, despite the fact that she could always stay at their house, than do anything with him as a couple. Hal suspected that a part of her motive was that she was afraid that Trelawney would become too comfortable with them. But she shouldn't really be afraid of that happening. She already was, so it was a moot point.
The Nutcracker
Now that the christening was over, Phoebe was glad to have a brief respite before the very busy holiday season began. This week was Thanksgiving, which Catherine was hosting again. Then the following weekend was The Nutcracker Suite. The following Friday night was the Christmas concert at Our Lady of Mercy. Finally, there was going to be another Christmas Eve Nativity pageant among the four churches again, this time at Trinity. And it seemed that Trelawney was in everything, although Prudence came in a close second. Neither Hal nor Butch wanted any part of it.
She felt lucky that Hal's lovely girlfriend Sharon was so appreciative of such things. She was also becoming a good friend to Trelawney. Hal told her that he was happy to attend any of the events as long as Sharon came along with him to explain why he should be impressed with them. He had a genuine desire to begin to understand her talent in the arts. Since Prudence was showing interests in the same direction, it would also help him to understand her as well.
"I'm impressed with anything Trelawney does," he admitted. "But it's mostly because I can't do it. Sharon understands why she is such a good dancer and piano player. I couldn't tell it if my life depended on it."
It was especially gratifying that Sylvia and Auntie Anna were staying for the ballet as well. Sylvia of course had seen Trelawney perform in The Glass Menagerie but none of the other Figalillys had ever seen her dance or act. Prudence had been absolutely delighted to hear that another relative would be in the audience to cheer her on, but Trelawney had been shyly grateful. When she asked auntie if she was sure that it was no bother, she of course had said no.
Thanksgiving Day passed by uneventfully. After all of the excitement surrounding the christening only a few days before there was a sense of let down. Still, it was nice to share their new American customs with their relatives from England. She was looking forward to a quiet Christmas as well. Much to the children's disappointment, there were to be no more gifts from the uncles until birthdays. That was fine with Trelawney, who wanted nothing.
She had been very happy that Uncle David had finally brought her her own child's tea set, which now sat in a cabinet that Rob had made for her. She had also asked for the handmade quilt from their old bed at home for her bed here and several of the needlepoint pillows that Mum had made. But the most spectacular item that he had brought was the Noah's ark that Papa had carved for her years ago, complete with Noah, his wife, and all kinds of pairs of animals.
When Trelawney was born she had passed it down to her. Throughout all of the years, over twenty in all, he had continued to carve and add to the collection of animals. Now Trelawney wanted it for Maisie. Prudence's eyes had grown large when she had seen it, but Trelawney had insisted that it be wrapped as a Christmas gift. Phoebe had shaken her head when she had seen it and commented that between the tea set, the dollhouse, the books, and the Noah's ark, there would be no room left in the bedroom for the girls.
However, Hal had already been thinking about that very thing. He explained to her that Uncle David had made a full transfer of the marriage portion to his name. He had not realized that it was so large. He had spoken with an architect and explained that he could use a part of it to put an addition onto the house. It would also keep Catherine quiet about the tight quarters.
"We both know that there will be more children," he said. "The space in this house is limited, but unless you want to move to a larger one, I would like to stay here. In order to find a house of adequate size, we would need to move to a different neighborhood and the children would need to change schools. How do you feel about it?"
"If we can stay here," she replied. "That would be my first choice. Mrs. Fowler is not a very pleasant next-door neighbor, but the fact that Francine has become Trelawney's best friend mitigates that. What have you considered about doing with this house?"
"I was thinking of a two story addition," he explained. "The second floor would be a bedroom for Maisie and Trelawney and another full bathroom for all the kids. Five kids in one bathroom will be a challenge for a while. Four was bad enough. Then below it, we would put in a family room with a half-bath where the kids can go with their friends when they come over.
"Right now we only have the living room and that doesn't leave us with much space if one of them wants to have a few friends over. It was one thing when they were little, but I would not look forward to having teenagers all over the place. And the living room is essentially connected to my study."
"That makes sense," she agreed, liking the idea the minute that she heard it.
"And then we can leave the nursery as the nursery," he said mischievously. "I have a feeling that we'll be needing it again."
"Well, not in the next nine months, if that's what you're asking," she answered with a smile. "As you can see, breastfeeding is a very effective natural form of birth control."
"That's okay with me for now," he replied cheerfully. "After all, most of the fun is in the trying. It is not nearly as fun once it happens, especially in those first three months, for you."
She grimaced remembering.
"The doctor warned me that that would probably happen every time," she said.
"Every time." he asked in a teasing voice. "And how many times are you planning on?"
"As many as God blesses us with," she said serenely.
Taking her in his arms, he kissed her tenderly and then carried her upstairs. They were alone in the house except for Maisie who was napping in the nursery. Auntie Anna had wisely suggested that they put her down to nap in the crib in there for daytime naps so that she would become accustomed to sleeping in there before they put her there for the night. Phoebe doubted that Maisie would object to the room change since Trelawney would also be there. But it was nice to have the bedroom empty during the day.
When they were finished and Phoebe lay curled up in his arms, she gave a little sigh.
"I know," he said with a sigh of his own.
"What?"
"In a month or so," he said. "I will go back to work. It will be harder to snatch these romantic little interludes during the day."
"But not impossible?" she asked hopefully.
"No, not at all," he replied. "I'm a reformed man. I've got a beautiful wife, four loving children, and one sweet little sister-in-law counting on me to be here at home for them. I won't let you all down."
"So you really are happy about Trelawney?" she asked for what must have been the hundredth time.
"Darling," he said patiently. "I have lived through my mother's sulking for over a week now. But more than that, I feel a special connection to her. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's because you are so deeply connected to her. But I now feel as if our family will not be complete until she is here back home with us. I cannot explain it, but in many ways she feels as if she is another one of my children."
She looked at him and saw the clear blue, nearly turquoise in his aura that indicated that he was not only telling the truth, he was trying to heal what had been an unspoken rift between them. Then, she heard her baby daughter's cry from down the hallway.
"Little devil," he said. "Just when I had in mind to make love to you again. Maybe she's trying to stave off a younger sibling."
Phoebe laughed as she started to get dressed.
"She doesn't have to interfere with your romantic inclinations to do that," she said. "Her appetite is enough to prevent another little Everett any time soon."
"Still not interested in solid food?"
Phoebe shook her head.
"No cereal yet," she replied. "I've even tried making it with breast milk like Auntie suggested, but it was rejected."
Phoebe left and returned with Maisie already at the breast contentedly sucking away. She had a blissful look on her little face as Phoebe sat down in the rocking chair. Hal looked at them and shook his head.
"I guess if I were her I'd feel the same way," he said.
"She's just like Trelawney in this sense," commented Phoebe. "She hung onto breastfeeding for over a year. And she wouldn't really take solid food during that time. It took poor Mum months to wean her."
"Is she like Trelawney was as a baby in any other way?" he asked.
"Well, she has the same little solemn face," she said. "Trelawney waited a long time for her first smile too. It was almost as if she couldn't decide who the honored party would be."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well," she explained. "In our culture, the first person that a baby smiles at is very important. And so is the first word she says and the first person that she walks to. Other firsts of course are important of course, but those three are especially significant."
"So who won the prize?" he asked, obviously curious. "For the smile that is."
Phoebe herself smiled softly, remembering.
"I did," she replied fondly. "And her first word was Papa and she took her first steps to Mum. She chose to give the three closest people in her life, her three firsts. We were all very touched."
"Well then," he said. "We'll have to keep a lookout. But I think that I know what her first word will be."
"And what's that?"
"Mum," he replied. "And if I were a betting man, I'd put a million dollars on Trelawney for the smile."
"Why is that?" she asked.
"Well, it's interesting," he replied. "Even though she has not yet smiled, whenever she sees her little auntie, I get the feeling that she is smiling, even though she's not. It's as if she is very happy to see her."
"I'm sure that she is," answered Phoebe. "But I wouldn't count Catherine out."
"I would," he said bluntly. "I think that somehow she knows that Mother doesn't want Trelawney to return home. That does not please her."
Phoebe looked down at Maisie who was still sucking contentedly and clutching her breast. She had her eyes closed, but Phoebe got the distinct impression that he was right. Then they heard the door open downstairs.
"Prudence," she said. "Time for you to get dressed and make the bed. You're lucky that she's going to stop for a snack in the kitchen first."
Quickly he got out of bed, hastily made it up, and grabbing his clothes, jumped into the bathroom right in time.
The Friday night that The Nutcracker opened, Phoebe could not have been more proud. It was going to be a very busy weekend because in addition to the three night shows, there were two matinees. Since the matinees were being performed to raise money for the families of Vietnam veterans. The vets and their families had been invited as guests, so they were sold out, as were the three nights. She had insisted upon going to all five performances, however the rest of the family split up between the three nights. No one else wished to see the show more than once except for Bernice and Catherine.
Prudence, who was dancing in three scenes, did an excellent job in the first show. She was clearly improving in her dancing technique, although her acting, mostly pantomime, in the party scene demonstrated that she was also developing her acting skills. The mice did less dancing and more rolling around the stage in the battle of the Mouse King and the Nutcracker. And the angels did little more than prance out and sit on stage to watch the rest of the show. However, her parts gave her a lot of time on stage and that made her happy.
Phoebe could see Bernice bursting with pride. Once again she had her camera and carefully preserved her playbill. Someday, Prudence was going to be very grateful to her thoughtful grandmother for collected these souvenirs for her. She knew that Catherine was also doing the same for Trelawney. She would add this to the little album that she had started last spring when Trelawney had starred in The Glass Menagerie. And there was no doubt about it, Trelawney was the star of this show.
Having seen The Nutcracker Suite performed a number of times before, she knew that the most memorable parts were played by the dancers in the second act. In particular, the grande pas de deux between the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Cavalier was always a show stopper, as well as the Trepak. These beautiful numbers were both well choreographed and performed. It helped that the director had pulled in a couple of professional dancers for the male leads. But it was Trelawney as Clara who brought the whole show together.
Trelawney's dancing and acting was very sweet as she played Clara. When she had her skirmish with her little brother Fritz during the party scene she looked genuinely devastated by the breaking of the nutcracker. After Herr Drosselmeyer wrapped it in a handkerchief, she tenderly cradled it and soothed it while the other girls in the scene rocked their own dolls. Her emotions were authentic. Her golden aura turned a mauve color as she grieved. When she came out later to fall asleep and dream, it was delicate lavender.
However, in the second act, when she entered the Land of Sweets, it had turned gold again as she delighted in all the wonders. In the final scene when she "woke up" from the dream and retrieved the nutcracker from under the tree, it was difficult to tell whether she was truly awake or merely sleep walking. Yet when she curled up on the couch once more with the nutcracker embraced in her arms, she looked peaceful and the serene. It begged the question, had this all been a dream and did she want to return to it, or had it been real?
Her costumes in each act accentuated her delicate and pretty features. Her party dress was deep royal blue velvet, the only one of the party dresses in that color, with a white satin ribbon. She wore black "character shoes" with her white tights. Her long blonde curls were swept back from her face and tied in a matching white ribbon.
For the dream sequence, her "nightgown" was actually a white satin dress with an Empire waist trimmed in gold. Her curls fell loosely over her shoulders, held off her face by a simple gold band. The curls had been something of a nightmare to create. Her normally wavy hair was tamed into long ringlets with a curling iron and then hair sprayed to hold their full curl. Her white satin toe shoes had been an expensive purchase. Her feet were so narrow that they had to be specially made. If they didn't fit perfectly, then she might injure her feet.
It was the first time that she had ever performed in a ballet. Last spring, because of Mike's play, she and Francine had begged off of the spring performance. Phoebe had always known that the girl was naturally graceful, but she was amazed to discover that she had developed such wonderful technique in the past year and a half. Sylvia leaned over to quietly whisper that she looked as if she had been dancing for at least seven or eight years and that she was far better than most of the other girls who had been studying longer.
She looked over to see Mrs. Fowler critically evaluating her. Francine was a stunning dancer, dancing in both the Chinese tea scene with the thirteen year olds and the Trepak with the oldest girls. Sylvia commented that she was certainly better than Trelawney in form and technique, but that her niece had an inexplicable quality that drew all eyes towards her. While she and Phoebe knew that it was all in the aura, no one else could see it. Phoebe thought that it was a pity that Auntie Anna would not get to see her until closing night.
But all who watched were clearly taken in by her childlike purity and innocence. She looked younger than her twelve and a half years. Even from a distance, her pale blue eyes were expressive. They shone with joy and literally filled with tears when she was called upon to be sad. Her relationship with the nutcracker was fascinating. She truly mourned his injury. Just as when she played Laura in The Glass Menagerie that spring, she lived in the skin of young Clara.
She also stood out with her pale British skin. All of the American girls were tanned to one degree of another. The wear of the sun especially showed of the skin of the teenagers. And most of the girls were obviously stronger and more muscular. While her hair still held the natural pale gold of a child, many of the older girls achieved the same gold color was streaks and dyes.
In their midst, Trelawney had the look of some kind of exotic flower. Even if she weren't her sister, she would have found her beautiful. Just as her performance was very natural, so was her appearance. She even wore less make up than the other girls. Her flawless skin needed no foundation and her eyes needed very little accent. She mostly needed rouge and lipstick so that she would not look like a little ghost.
And when the show was over and the last curtain call taken, everyone could not stop talking about the little girl who had brought the magic of Christmas alive for them all. Phoebe found herself surrounded by friends who couldn't praise her sister enough. And then she saw a familiar redhead approaching her through the crowd.
Trelawney's old friend Mike Lenihan, visiting from his first semester at university in New York City, was fighting his way to her.
"Mrs. Everett," he cried. "She was stunning! Miss Figalilly, she was amazing! I can't believe how much my little Trelawney has grown up!"
Lois came rushing up behind him.
"Oh, Phoebe!" she exclaimed. "You must be so proud of her! She was incredible! She brought tears to my eyes."
Phoebe was grateful for Sylvia's steadying arm around her. Bernice and Tom were there but they were talking with one of Helen's old friends who was praising Prudence. Hal was home with the baby. She couldn't wait for him to see her tomorrow night. She knew that he would be very proud of her also. Then, pushing her way in, came Prudence. The little girl rushed past her Nana to come directly to her.
"Mommy!" she said in a low voice. "Trelawney is afraid to come out. Some of the mothers backstage scared her when they said that everyone wanted to see her."
"We should have expected this," said Sylvia nervously. "What are we going to do?"
Having overhead the dilemma, Bernice took charge.
"Prudence," she said authoritatively. "You can show Papa and I where the backstage door is. We'll go get the car and pull up there. Phoebe, you and Sylvia can get Trelawney and we'll bundle her out before anyone realizes that she is gone. Poor child! She's such a shy little thing. We should have thought of it earlier."
Phoebe was just grateful that she had thought of it now. It was one of those times when she was glad that Bernice was so forceful. She would make sure that Trelawney got out safely. Mike followed them backstage, determined to pick up his old role as bodyguard. When Trelawney saw him, she hurled herself into his arms. Phoebe watched as she buried her face in his shoulder and he stroked her hair.
When Tom and Bernice arrived, he carried her out to the car and put her in the back with Prudence.
"Goodbye, little angel," he said gently. "I will see you when I come back for Christmas Break."
She nodded tearfully. Phoebe knew that she just wanted to go home.
"We'll take her right home," said Tom. "Do you want her at your house or Rob's."
"Bring her to Phoebe's," said Sylvia firmly, before she could say a word.
Tom drove off and Phoebe turned to Sylvia.
"Why did you say that?" she asked.
"Mum is there with Hal and the baby," answered Sylvia. "She'll take care of her until we get there. I believe that there are still people in there who want to talk to you."
"What about Catherine?"
Sylvia got an odd look on her face.
"Hal can give her a call when she gets there. Catherine needs to see that she isn't the only one who is capable of caring for the child, especially when she is emotional like this," she replied. "Let's just say that this is the first step in the process of teaching her that."
When they arrived back at the house about a half hour later, Trelawney was sitting on the couch beside Auntie Anna with her doll Tessa in her arms. Catherine was sitting across the room with Rob, Tom, and Bernice. Hal was sitting in the chair beside the couch holding Maisie who gave a little squawk of relief when Phoebe walked in. She barely had time to take off her coat before Hal handed her over. Prudence was sitting on the floor beside Bernice. Despite the excitement, she looked sleepy.
"Well that was a lark!" said Sylvia. "That was some quick thinking on your part, Bernice!"
"Well it was a good thing that we had Mike there to help," she said.
"Yes," replied Trelawney, a bit petulantly. "I am happy that my gallant knight has returned. I knew that he was here to save me. I have so missed him since my other knight abandoned me."
It was the first time that Trelawney had even alluded to Topher in months. Phoebe noticed looks passing between Sylvia and her mother, but she was too focused on her sister to bother to read them.
"Well, yes," she said. "Mike was a comfort. But I don't know why you were so afraid. You didn't seem to mind it when people fussed over you after the play last spring."
"This was different," she said. "The theatre was quite crowded tonight. And there were just so many people that I didn't know. Must I do it again? I do have an understudy you know. Please, Phoebe, don't make me do it again."
"Why, little one!" replied Auntie Anna. "What would your Uncle David say to me, not to mention all those Chenowiths, if they knew that I had stayed for two whole extra weeks and didn't even get to see you dance."
"Oh," she said.
"And I haven't gotten to see you yet," said Hal. "I'm going tomorrow night and it just won't be the same without you."
"But you're going to see me too!" objected Prudence, as usual only thinking herself.
"Hush!" said Bernice firmly, laying a had on her shoulder.
"And Rob and I are both so looking forward to seeing you on Sunday night," added Catherine. "And what about Mr. Just Jim and your friends at the nursing home? Can't you imagine how disappointed they would be, not to mention the veterans and their families coming tomorrow afternoon and Sunday."
"Aunt Lottie and Mrs. Darmstadt would never let me forget it," said Trelawney thoughtfully.
"And you know that dear Mrs. Kaufman would never say a word," said Phoebe. "But she would be crushed if she didn't get to see you. Darling, so many people are looking forward to seeing you dance Clara. You don't want to let them down."
"And lovey," said Auntie Anna gently. "Your Mum and Papa would want you to do it. You know how proud of you they always were."
At that, Trelawney turned to Auntie Anna and began to sob in her arms. It was obvious that her emotions were now completely thrown askew. Phoebe looked at Sylvia helplessly.
"I want my Mum and my Papa!" she cried wildly. "Why did they have to go away? Why didn't they take me with them? Why can't I be with my Phoebe? Where are my gallant knights? Everyone that I love always goes away from me! Why am I always left alone?"
Phoebe felt the tears forming in her own eyes. Trelawney had begun to sob loudly and shake, almost violently, in Auntie Anna's arms. For her part, her auntie just held her close and kissed her. She seemed completely unsurprised by the outburst. It was obvious that she had seen the like of it before.
Hal came over and took the baby and gave her to Catherine. She had never seen this dimension of her sister's grief before. There was an aspect of desolation about it that worried her. It was heart wrenching. Something in the performance had released some of her pent up emotions. But for the life of her, she couldn't tell what.
Sylvia looked back her sympathetically.
"This was how she was after they passed," she said quietly. "When she thought that Dad wouldn't let her come to you, she refused to eat. And she wouldn't sleep. She said that she wanted to be with them, if she couldn't be with you. Emmeline never told you, but before the funeral she had told her that she wondered what it had been like for Laertes to jump in Ophelia's grave in Hamlet. It was a very frightening time for all of us."
"I knew that she had to go to you," recalled Auntie Anna, as Trelawney began to quiet herself. "And I told David. She's been so good for so long that you've forgotten what she can be like. We were truly afraid that she would do herself harm. You can never forget that she will always be a little fey. Right now something's broken open her heart. I can't tell you what it is because I don't know. But it was like this two weeks ago when we arrived. She's unsettled again."
"Why are you talking about me as if I am not here?" asked Trelawney. "I want my Mum and Papa. And I want my Phoebe."
Separating herself from Auntie, she went over to Phoebe and rested against her. She was now too large to sit in her lap. Phoebe encircled her in her arms. She could feel the energy flow between them. Auntie Anna made a soft noise.
"Trelawney, dear," said Catherine. "Please look at me."
Trelawney looked up. Her eyes were brimming with tears and she seemed barely able to focus. Phoebe knew that they were losing her. She was clinging to her as if her life depended on it. Perhaps at this moment it did. But if she couldn't perform in the ballet then everyone would wonder why. After her meltdown tonight, rumors might start and that would only make things worse.
"You will soon be coming home to your Phoebe," said Catherine slowly and carefully. "But if you need to come home sooner, then I don't think that your Uncle David would object. Do you Annabel?"
"No," agree Auntie, looking Trelawney more closely. "He made the same promise that I did on that night that you were born. Whatever was to happen, you would be with your Phoebe. My dear Meg knew that Phoebe couldn't do it alone. She knew that David would have control in such a case. But the heart of our promise was to keep you both together. If you need to be with her now, you do not have to wait until Christmas."
Trelawney looked around at them. She looked up at her sister, and Phoebe could see the light had returned to her eyes. She then spoke very clearly.
"No thank you," she replied. "I believe that I will do as my Uncle David has asked. I am sorry that I have been such a bother. I have forgotten myself again."
She looked back at Auntie Anna and Phoebe saw that a silent communication passed between the two of them. But she couldn't read it. Sylvia gave a sigh of relief. Trelawney stood and looked at them all uncertainly. Auntie Anna walked over and picked up her hand. Trelawney leaned against her and sighed.
"It has been a long night and we are all tired," said Sylvia. "Perhaps it would be best if we all went to bed."
Catherine got up and handed Maisie back to her. Unbelievably, the baby was sound asleep. Sylvia also got up and Trelawney stood still, clinging to Auntie Anna's hand. Tom and Bernice also prepared to leave. Prudence needed no encouragement to go to bed. Since she had two shows tomorrow and then another two on Sunday, that was good. After they had all left, Phoebe went upstairs and laid Maisie down in the cradle.
"She really is almost too big for it," she said to Hal as he walked in after making sure that the kids were all in bed.
"Yes," he said. "But when we move her on Christmas Eve, I am not inclined to put it away."
Phoebe smiled softly, wondering if the cradle would have a new occupant by next Christmas. She could feel Hal slipping his arms around her from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder and softly kissed her cheek.
"Maybe not next Christmas," he said, inferring that the next child would be with them soon. "But I believe that the next one will be more than a twinkle in my eye, to quote Aunt Agatha, by then."
"Boy or girl?" she asked.
"Boy, I think," he answered immediately. "I don't know why I think so, I just do."
"They say that there is less morning sickness with boys," she commented.
"I've heard that," he said carefully.
"Don't you mean that you read it in the "what to expect" book?" she asked playfully.
"Maybe," he replied. "I forgot where I heard it, come to think of it."
Phoebe shook her head at his rather innocent look. Of course he had read it in the infamous what to expect book. Of course, she knew that this little piece of information was also a bit of folk wisdom. She could only hope that it was true.
Maisie's First Smile
When young Hal Everett went to rehearsal for the high school's Christmas Spectacular, all everyone was talking about was the performance of The Nutcracker the night before at the community theatre. Some of the girls in the high school show were also in the ballet school. A few of them including the girl, who had danced the part of the Sugar Plum Fairy in particular, were miffed that a little girl had stolen the show.
Hal was glad that in addition to being only there to work on the technical aspects, he was a lowly freshman and so no one took any notice of him. It was also not the first time that he was glad that Trelawney's last name was different from his. It wasn't that he was not proud of her. In fact, he really was. And this whole thing made him mad. Sharon was working down on the stage fixing up some of the sets that still needed to be painted, so she was in the middle of it. Of course she wasn't going to say anything either.
One thing that Hal found interesting was that Topher, who was handling the wiring for the light board, looked up quickly when he heard Trelawney's name. Then, he went back to work, but Hal could tell that he was listening intently. The mikes were on on stage and they could hear the conversation perfectly.
"I don't know where she came from," whined the Sugar Plum Fairy. "But I guess that nobody told her that in this ballet, Clara is just a supporting player. And whoever heard of a crazy name like Trelawney Rose Figalilly before? If her grandmother or whoever that was wasn't making costumes, she would have been in the Dew Drop chorus with all of the other twelve year olds."
"Well," said another girl. "I have heard that she isn't a very . . . stable person. She goes to Our Lady of Mercy because she just couldn't cut it at the middle school. And last night she almost had a total meltdown after the show. I'll be surprised if we see her this afternoon."
"I heard about that," replied another. "In fact, didn't Mike Lenihan have to 'save' her by getting her from all the people who wanted to congratulate her?"
"Oh, yeah," said the Sugar Plum Fairy. "My mom was helping backstage in the dressing room and they had to get her family to whisk her away before she had a nervous breakdown or something. Poor Francine Fowler was stuck dealing with her until they showed up. I don't know how she stands being around her."
The more Hal heard, the angrier he became.
"Francine is her best friend and she loves her," he said through gritted teeth. "She was over at Grammy's house this morning encouraging her to go back to perform today."
Topher looked at him curiously but then looked away. Hal could not even imagine what he was thinking. Usually he was the knight in shining armor, but last night it had been Mike's turn. Of course, Topher hadn't been anywhere near them in months. Trelawney never asked about him anymore, although Dad said that she had mentioned him last night.
"Well," said one of the other girls. "It may be just as well if she backs out. You wouldn't want her to have a nervous breakdown on stage now, would you?"
The sound of female laughter rang over the sound system. Hal could bear it anymore. He was about to flip the switch, but Topher grabbed his wrist. His face was red. Hal had never seen him so angry before. He pulled his hand away.
"Hey, girls!" came the voice of Jeannie Jones over the mike. "Has anyone seen my man?"
"He's up in the booth," replied another girl. "He's probably making sure that everything is perfect for you. You are the star of the show."
Hal looked up in time to see the toss of the hair. All eyes were on her now, but the subject of Trelawney was not forgotten.
"Just be glad that you don't have some crazy, little English girl to upstage you," said the Sugar Plum Fairy. "These foreigners should all go back where they came from."
But before Jeannie could say anything, Topher's sister Rachel, who was in the chorus, spoke up.
"Why don't you just lay off?" she said bravely, being that she was only a junior. "The poor kid is an orphan. The only reason that she is here is because her sister is the only family she has left."
"What about the crazy Princess?" asked one of the other girls. "I heard that she is her 'auntie.'"
"I correct myself," said Rachel. "The only close family is her sister. It's not easy not having any parents. And she came from a very sheltered place. That's why she went to Mercy."
"How do you know so much about her?" asked one of the girls.
"My younger sister Sarah is one of her best friends," she replied. "She goes to Mercy with her."
"Oh yeah," said another girl. "I forgot that you were one of those goody-goody Tuckers. Saved any souls lately?"
Now it was Topher's turn to grit his teeth, but when Hal tipped his head towards the stage, Topher shook his.
"Rachel can take care of herself," he said tensely.
"Trelawney is in no need of redemption, unlike a few other people I know," she said. "But I suppose that in your mind kindness is a sin and not a virtue."
"And you're confusing 'spaciness' with kindness," said the Sugar Plum Fairy. "How many times during rehearsals did we have to hear, 'I am sorry, I do believe that I have lost my place?'"
The last words were spoken in an exaggerated, sweet British accent.
"Oh, why don't you pick on someone your own size?" asked Rachel, warming up to the fight.
"Like you?"
"Girls!" came the voice of Mr. Jansen the music director. "Can't I leave you alone for ten minutes without a cat fight starting? We have several numbers to go through and we don't have all day. Now cool it!"
The tone of his voice shut them all down. Hal was relieved. He had never heard anything like it before. He looked over at Topher, but his entire focus was on the wiring. The only indications that he had just heard the previous exchange were the two red spots on his cheeks. Hal left him alone in the booth to check the stage mikes.
Later, Hal talked to Sharon about it.
"Do you think that she'll be alright?" he asked her.
"I'm sure that she will be," she said. "Didn't you say that her cousin Sylvia was going to be backstage to keep her calm? And your mom is going to be in the audience every performance."
"I know," said Hal. "I'm afraid to tell Mom. She was still a little upset this morning about last night."
"So tell Sylvia," replied Sharon. "I'm sure that she can handle it."
Sharon was right of course. As soon as he got back from the high school, he tracked Sylvia down and told her what he had overheard. She sighed.
"Girls will be girls," she said. "Of course they're all jealous of her. None of them can even touch her for acting ability. And that's really the problem. But thanks for letting me know. I'll keep a close eye on her."
She kept her promise. Trelawney breezed through the matinee and when Hal and Sharon saw her that night she was amazing. The only other ballet that Hal had ever seen before was Coppelia last spring when Prudence was in it. He liked this one even better. And Trelawney was beautiful.
It wasn't even just her dancing and acting that made her performance beautiful, or the costumes and make up. When she danced she seemed to float on stage. And she just seemed to radiate with goodness. After the show, the woman sitting behind them commented that she seemed to embody the innocence of the Christmas spirit.
"I agree," said Sharon. "When you look at her, you forget about everything but the beauty on stage. She makes you believe in magic."
Once again, Trelawney was smuggled out the backdoor of the stage. When they met her back at home, she was completely calm.
"I was able to keep her in balance as long as she knew that she wouldn't have to see anyone after the show," explained Sylvia. "It's all the strangers who frighten her. She was much more relaxed at the matinee. She told me that she kept focusing on the fact that it was for the veterans. That seems to make the difference."
"That makes sense," said Mom. "Two summers ago, she was very excited about performing in the 'Love Out Loud' concert and that was also a benefit."
"It's a pity that she's so shy," replied Sylvia. "With a little bit of training she would be an amazing actress. She almost seems like a young Vivian Leigh."
"Who has always been your heroine," finished Mom. "But poor Miss Leigh always had some of her own health issues."
Hal looked at Sharon in confusion and she pulled him aside.
"You shouldn't repeat that," she said seriously. "Vivian Leigh was known for being mentally unbalanced, you know, terrible mood swings. That was what broke up her marriage to Lawrence Olivier. She was very fragile, like Trelawney. It was assumed that it was because she was so exceptionally talented. She had her share of tragedy in life. She had two miscarriages. It was really very sad."
Hal thought about that. He was glad when The Nutcracker was over because it meant that Trelawney didn't have to be out in public much. She was playing the piano at the concert at Our Lady of Mercy the next weekend, but that was different. The concert would be in the school chapel and really the only people who would be there were the parents and friends of the girls in it.
Aunt Annabel and Sylvia left the day after the ballet was over. Trelawney was so upset that Grammy had to keep her home from school. Mom said that she was also exhausted from the busy weekend, but she looked worried. For once, Dad stepped up to comfort her.
"Don't worry, Phoebe," he said. "In about two weeks she'll be back home and we'll be mediating the battles of the bathroom again."
"I know," answered Mom. "But I think that Auntie Anna was right. We did let her commit to too many things."
"Well we'll just have to pay more attention next spring," soothed Dad. "We won't let things get out of control again."
Hal was glad to see that his Dad was getting more involved and planning to stay more involved. The only thing that had him worried about Christmas was Butch. Everyone was getting real tired of his bad moods. Hal was especially mad because he sat through the ballet with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. And afterwards, when everyone was congratulating Prudence and Trelawney, he just kept rolling his eyes. Finally, Aunt Annabel told him that if he kept rolling his eyes like that, they would get stuck up inside of his head.
He walked away rudely, but no one said anything. Hal was beginning to think that that was a part of the problem. If he or Prudence acted like that they would get in big trouble. Butch seemed to be milking the situation for all it was worth. The night of the concert at Mercy, there was a confrontation before they went. Hal was glad that it happened at home and Trelawney didn't know about it.
It started when Butch announced at dinner that he didn't want to go to some dumb old concert at a dumb old girls school. Mom looked upset and Dad looked like it was the last straw.
"No one is giving you a choice, young man," he said sternly. "After dinner you will put on your jacket and tie and be ready to go with the rest of us."
Maisie, who was sitting on Mom's lap, gave one of her little chirps.
"Oh, brother!" said Butch. "Even the baby is against me."
"No one is against you, Butch," replied Dad reasonably. "On the contrary, you seem to be against the rest of us."
Butch looked around. There wasn't much that he could say since it was true. So he got up without asking permission and went upstairs. But he was ready and waiting when they went to go pick up Sharon for the concert.
As far as Hal could tell, it was a good concert. He actually like it better than the high school show. The music was all religious Christmas carols and according to Sharon, the harmonies were wonderful. Trelawney played piano off to the side where she looked happy. She hated for anyone to notice her.
Afterwards, there were punch and cookies in the school parlors. Sharon was fascinated by it all.
"Wow, Francine," she said. "You certainly are lucky to go here."
"So am I," said Sarah. "I have a scholarship or I couldn't be here. It's so different from public school, but in a good way."
"Sarah," said Sharon hesitantly. "I noticed that your brother is here. It's kind of surprising."
Sarah looked over to where Topher was standing and talking with their sister Rebecca.
"Well," she said. "You know how he broke up with Jeannie?"
"Who doesn't?" asked Hal. "But the way I hear it, she broke up with him."
"Yeah, well, whatever," she said. "Now that he's away from that witch, he actually has time to spend with the family. He came because I was singing in the glee club. He said that he had to see it to believe it."
"So did I," said Francine. "I can't believe that we were really able to convince you to join. You have a very nice voice."
"Well," said Sarah. "I feel like more of a jock than a singer, but I really don't mind it. Although I did think that I was going to get a break from sweating so much."
"It goes with the territory," said Francine with a shrug. "I can't tell you the number of times that I have soaked through costumes in shows."
"Good," replied Hal. "Because I'd rather not know."
They were all laughing when they heard the sound of Trelawney's voice from across the room.
"Look, Phoebe! It's Maisie's first smile! Look, Professor! She's smiling at Topher!"
"Oh brother," said Hal. "This is all we're going to hear about for the rest of the weekend."
"What do you mean?" asked Sharon.
"In Trelawney's culture," explained Francine. "The first smile is a very important first, like the first word and the first steps. They believe that the first person a baby smiles at is very important to them."
"Oh," said Sharon. "Does Maisie even know Topher?"
The other three looked at each other. It would take a very long time to explain the important role that Topher had played in the tragic drama on the night that Maisie was born.
"You could say that," said Sarah slowly.
Thankfully Hal was called over to look at the baby, who was sitting in Trelawney's arms and now smiling at everyone. Butch came over reluctantly to look at her and at first she didn't seem to know what to do. Then he scowled at her. But she just opened her mouth and gave him a wide toothless grin.
"Oh brother!" he grumbled and walked away.
Later when they got home, Prudence came bouncing into their room and jumped on his bed.
"What do you want, squirt?" he asked her.
"Why do you think that Maisie smiled at Topher first?" she asked.
"I don't know," he answered. "Why don't you ask Mom?"
"I did ask Mommy," she replied. "But she didn't answer me. It was funny because she didn't even seem happy about it."
"I don't see what the big deal is," said Butch. "Who cares who she smiles at first?"
"I care more about the fact that you don't smile at anyone anymore," replied Hal. "But Trelawney said that in their culture, it was important."
"Maybe she was smiling because Topher's not dating Jeannie anymore," suggested Prudence.
"Huh?" asked Hal and Butch together.
"Hannah said that everyone on their family is glad that he's not going out with the little tramp anymore," answered Prudence. "And Miriam told me that the little tramp was Jeannie."
"Oh," said Hal. "But how would Maisie know anything about that?"
"I dunno," replied Prudence. "Maybe Trelawney told her."
"And you think that she understood her?" asked Butch.
"I think that Maisie understands lots of things," said Prudence. "Just because she can't talk, doesn't mean she can't understand."
"Oh brother!" said Butch again. "She's not even here yet and you're already talking like her."
"Don't you want Trelawney to come home?" asked Prudence.
Butch looked thoughtful.
"Well, it has its good points and bad points," he commented. "On the one hand she's crazy. On the other, she does a lot of chores."
"Where did you learn to talk like that?" asked Hal, impressed by his brother's rhetorical construction.
"In school, dummy," answered Butch, rolling his eyes.
Hal and Prudence looked at each other and shrugged. Dad came in and chased her off to bed and told them to turn out the lights. Without a word, Butch shut off his light and turned his back to him. Hal looked at his father and saw the look of hurt in his eyes. If he hadn't done it a couple of times already, he would have clobbered Butch as soon as Dad closed the door.
He was just plain sick and tired of his brother's nonsense. But clobbering no longer had any effect at all on him. So he turned off his own light and lay down to consider everything that he had seen and heard tonight.
To be continued . . .
