A Nantucket Christmas Page 8

  “Not tonight, sweetie.” Kennedy smoothed her son’s ruffled hair. “You go with Daddy and Granddad.”

  “Nicole, too.” Maddox’s eyes were shining with excitement, his cheeks rosy from his run out into the cold.

  “My big boy.” Kennedy hugged him to her as well as she could. “I love you, Mad Man.”

  The others congregated in the front hall, pulling on gloves and coats while Nicole did her St. Martyr of the Household bit again, bringing Kennedy a pile of magazines and tucking a blanket over her feet. Maddox was jumping up and down with anticipation. Kennedy’s father helped Nicole into her down coat. Kennedy felt childishly miffed at herself. Everyone else was giddy and good-natured. She was like a fat female Scrooge.

  As soon as she saw the Grand Cherokee’s lights fade into the distance, she levered herself off the sofa. Trundling up the stairs to the second floor, she headed down the long hall to the last small room, used as a storage room. Turning on the light, she was pleased to see that nothing had changed. Her grandmother’s wedding gown was still zipped in a dress bag, hanging from the back of the closet. Her ice skates, skis, and rollerblades were in the closet, along with a few of her more memorable Halloween costumes and her father’s high school letter jacket. One wall was lined with shelves filled with books. Her favorite books from childhood had been pillaged to take to her home to read to Maddox. Her high school and college yearbooks were still here.

  The family photo albums were here, too. Ha.

  Kennedy had been a child before digital cameras hit the scene, so her parents had devotedly snapped shots, had them printed off, and slipped the best photos into handsome leather-bound albums. Getting to them now was difficult, because they lined the lowest shelves, requiring Kennedy to squat—not her easiest posture—to wrench them out of the tightly packed shelf. They were heavy, fat, and bulky. Still, she persevered, tugging them off the shelf until she had them in a pile. Then, two by two, she carried them downstairs to the living room coffee table. It was a time-consuming process. She could heft only two at a time, and she had to hold those against her body with one arm so she could grasp the stair banister with her free hand. Fourteen unwieldy albums, compressing so many years of her family’s life. Huffing, puffing, gasping, wheezing, Kennedy climbed down and back up, down and back up, her lower back cramping with protest at the weight.

  Finally they were gathered on the coffee table. Excellent. Nicole’s prissy Christmas room with its tree, stockings, and small wooden crèche was overwhelmed by the stack of albums. Kennedy dropped like a stone onto the sofa and caught her breath. Her back was a red hot coal of tongs squeezing her spinal cord, but she wasn’t ready to rest yet. She spread as many of the albums as she could, open, photos gleaming, on the coffee table. The others she stacked on the floor in small towers of memory.

  After resting, she scanned the albums until she found the one filled with pictures of herself at three, chubby and grinning from her father’s arms, her mother next to them. Oh, she had been such a darling baby. Her three-year-old self sat smiling on Christmas morning, holding a baby doll in her arms. Katya wore a red and green silk robe; she was astonishingly lovely as she sat on the sofa with Sebastian’s arm wrapped around her, both of them flushed with pleasure. Kennedy left that album open on the table so Nicole wouldn’t fail to notice it.

  Leaning back against the sofa, Kennedy allowed herself a great big helping of self-pity. Why did everything change?

  A few photos of her nanny, Patty, had been included in the album. Kennedy happily remembered the woman, who smelled of sugar, flour, and baby powder. Here Kennedy was, taking her first brave steps toward Patty. Here Kennedy was with Patty at the ocean. The reality of being so young floated just out of the grasp of Kennedy’s memory, but as she opened more albums, she began to warp back into some of the scenes.

  The Halloween when she was four, dressed as a princess. She’d never wanted to take those sparkling clothes off. In fact, she recalled having a fight about it with Patty because she wanted to wear the princess gown and tiara to school.

  The Christmas she was ten, memorable because Patty had been let go because Kennedy was considered too old to need a nanny. The family had gone to Aruba for Christmas. Such shimmering turquoise blue water, the palm trees, the cottage that had no television set.

  Changing years, changing holiday islands. Rain forests, thatched cottages without walls, hotel rooms with television sets, her mother lying on a beach lounge, eyes covered with sunglasses, turning deep brown in the sun, then dressing for dinner and dancing with Sebastian and their friends. Kennedy got to order room service and watch videos.

  Katya’s clothes. Swirling silks, a sleek black bikini, skin-sleek satin. Kennedy appreciated even more as an adult how beautiful Katya was and how hard she had worked in the service of that beauty. Not only the strict dieting and exercising, but the hours spent at the beauty salon, having her hair colored and styled, having her legs and eyebrows waxed—and Katya abhorred pain as much as Kennedy. All Kennedy’s friends had Brazilian waxes, but Kennedy couldn’t bring herself to do it. She could hardly bear to have her legs waxed.

  In all the photos, Katya’s nails were perfectly shaped and painted. Discreet but expensive gems gleamed on her fingers and in her earlobes, around her neck and arms. Her mother had not been completely self-absorbed, though. She had taught Kennedy well, and Kennedy was grateful. Katya had shown Kennedy how to eat healthily if lightly, so that Kennedy didn’t get caught up in the anorexia and bulimia of so many girls at her boarding school. That was a real victory.

  Katya must have loved Sebastian passionately to have sacrificed the glory that was her body to the degradations of pregnancy and birth. How Katya had gotten her figure back after her pregnancy, Kennedy did not understand. She was sure she would resemble an exploded water balloon for the rest of her life.

  “Mommy!” The front door burst open. Maddox ran into the room, forgetting in his excitement to be gentle with Kennedy, throwing himself onto her before even taking off his coat and mittens. “We saw Santa on his sleigh! We saw Rudolph! We saw Charlie Brown, and Snoopy on his doghouse! One house had lights ALL over!”

  James stalked into the room. “Hey, kid, remember to be careful with Mommy and the baby.”

  Kennedy kissed Maddox’s forehead. “Did Rudolph have a red nose?”

  “He did, Mommy!”

  Squirming slightly to shift her son’s weight, Kennedy asked, “Was there a snowman?”

  “Yeah! One house had a whole snow family!” In his excitement, he kneed Kennedy in the belly.

  Kennedy couldn’t help going “Oof!”

  James noticed. Swinging his son up in his arms, he said, “Let’s take your coat off, Maddox. It’s time to calm down now and get ready for bed.”

  Kennedy sensed her husband’s gaze resting on her, giving her a moment to offer to help put their son to bed, to ask about the outing, to send him a look of gratitude. She ignored him, staring intently at the album. She took care of Maddox ninety-nine percent of the time. It was James’s turn. Besides, she had a scheme to put into action.

  Sebastian and Nicole entered the living room, bringing a rush of fresh cold air with them. Kennedy shivered.

  “How are you, Kabey?” her father asked.

  “All right.”

  “Maybe tomorrow night you’ll feel like driving over to see the lights,” Nicole suggested. “They’re amazing—”

  Sebastian interrupted. “Kennedy, what’s all this? Good Lord, you didn’t haul all these albums down the stairs by yourself, did you?”

  Elated by her father’s concern, Kennedy ducked her head and peered up at her father from beneath her eyelashes. “I wanted to look at them. I wanted to remember all the wonderful times our family had during the holidays.”

  “But honey, you could have hurt yourself. You should have waited for us to come home and bring them down.”

  Nicole knelt by the coffee table, focusing on the album Kennedy had left open where Katya wa
s at her most young and staggeringly gorgeous.

  “Katya is such a true beauty,” Nicole said, touching the photo with her forefinger. “But you know, Sebastian, I think your daughter is even more beautiful.”

  What? Kennedy wanted to totally throw up. Was Nicole demented? Was she some kind of frontal lobe victim? No, she was a genius at pretense, she wasn’t going to let Kennedy get to her, she was acting like someone without a stick of jealousy, all gooiness.

  “Nicole’s right,” Sebastian said. “You are more lovely than your mother, Kennedy.”

  Kennedy’s lower lip trembled. “Thanks, Daddy.” Bracing herself, she began the awkward effort of elevating her bulging body from the sofa. “I think I’ll go to bed now. I did get tired, carrying all those albums. But they cheered me up, so it was worth it.”

  18

  Christmas Eve day, a storm was predicted by the Weather Channel, with rising winds toward evening, so after breakfast Nicole and Sebastian headed off to the grocery store. They needed to stock the house with perishables and last-minute goodies and pick up the fresh, twenty-one-pound turkey. Tonight Nicole was serving beef Wellington with lots of veggies and a pumpkin pie for dessert.

  First Nicole and Sebastian dropped James and Maddox at the wharves to watch the ferries come home. The wind-driven current was so strong it slammed the great behemoth car ferry the Eagle into the side of the dock, crashing like thunder. Fishing boats were tied up to the piers, bobbing like bathtub toys in the churning harbor.

  At Stop & Shop, Nicole and Sebastian loaded up the cart, lugging armfuls of bags out to the car.

  “We bought fresh cream?” Nicole wondered aloud as they left the parking lot.

  “We did. I checked it off the list. We’re set,” Sebastian assured her. “We have enough food to feed us for the next week.”

  “I hope so. If the storm is as bad as they say, the boats may not be able to make it over with fresh supplies for days.”

  Sebastian reached over and held her hand. “The storm might miss us and blow out to sea. If it does hit, we’re in a house that’s stood for over a hundred years. Twenty-five years ago, we had trouble with power going out, but the electric company installed an underwater cable, so we’ll be just fine.”

  “Oh, heavens, I hadn’t even thought about losing electricity.”

  “You worry too much,” Sebastian said.

  You don’t have five people to feed three meals a day, Nicole wanted to remind him, but she didn’t want to seem to be complaining. And she wasn’t. She loved cooking. She loved the holiday season. She adored Maddox, liked James just fine … and she was proud of the way she was keeping her cool with Kennedy. She was unaccountably nervous, though, she was on edge, as if her women’s intuition was warning her of trouble ahead. No doubt this was caused by the falling barometer, the increasing wind, and the frenzied ions or protons or whatever was invisibly frothing in the air.

  They picked up a windblown James and Maddox and returned home. James helped Sebastian and Nicole carry in the multitude of bags.

  Maddox ran straight to his mother. Kennedy was sitting in a chair by the fire in the living room.

  “It was awesome, Mommy!” Maddox squealed, throwing himself into her lap.

  “Ouch.” Kennedy recoiled as her son literally knocked the breath out of her. Seeing Maddox’s face flicker with anxiety, she reached out and pulled him up onto her knees, hugging him tightly. “I’m okay, sweetie. Now tell me all about the ocean. How high were the waves?”

  “This high!” Maddox proudly raised his arm as far as it would go above his head.

  “Wow.” Kennedy widened her eyes in appreciative astonishment. “I hope you held Daddy’s hand.”

  “I did, Mommy, I did. And the big ferry boat went crash into the—” He frowned, unsure of the right word.

  “The dock?” Kennedy suggested, lovingly smoothing her son’s hair.

  “Yeah! And—” Maddox wiggled with excitement, describing the adventure.

  Nicole hummed as she stripped off her coat and unpacked the groceries. It was good to see Kennedy happy. She put on Christmas music in her kitchen, and the sparkling arms of her holiday sweater brightened her mood as she worked. This was her favorite sweater, with Santa on his sleigh in the front, the reindeer prancing around the side so that Rudolph with his cherry-red nose glittered on her back.

  She prepared an easy lunch of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches (on whole wheat bread, of course).

  Maddox was still overexcited from his outing, almost jumping up and down in his chair.

  “Sit still, Maddox,” Kennedy told her son. “You’ll spill your soup.” She looked tired. “James, would you help him with the soup? It’s so difficult for a four-year-old to eat.”

  Nicole’s heart cringed. “Tell you what.” Quickly she rose from the table, easing Maddox’s bowl away from him. “I’ll pour your soup into a mug, and then you can drink it.”

  “Good idea,” James affirmed.

  Kennedy was silent as Nicole got down a Christmas mug.

  “The snow’s accumulating,” Sebastian reported, turning the conversation to the view out the windows. “We don’t usually have snow this soon,” he explained to James. “Thirty miles out at sea, we’re caught in the Gulf Stream, which keeps us warmer than the mainland.”

  “It’s ideal for Christmas.” Nicole set the mug in front of Maddox and resumed her seat. “It makes everything so pretty.”

  Kennedy rolled her eyes and sighed.

  James, with an impatient thinning of his mouth, shot his wife a glance. “Are you okay, Kennedy?”

  “As a matter of fact, no,” Kennedy puffed. “I think I’m coming down with some kind of flu. Or something I ate last night didn’t agree with me.”

  Sebastian leaned forward, concerned. “Perhaps you should go back to bed.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve,” Kennedy protested. “I don’t want to lie in bed today.”

  Nicole took a deep breath. She kept her mouth shut. Let the men sort Kennedy out, she decided. Nothing Nicole could do or say would help.

  “Want to read to Maddox by the fire?” Sebastian suggested.

  “Good idea,” James quickly agreed. “He’s had a good outing this morning—”

  James’s words were interrupted by a loud pounding at the front door.

  Nicole jumped up. “I’ll get it. It might be presents from someone!” Hurrying optimistically down the hall, she threw open the front door, letting in a blast of cold air and snow.

  A woman in a mink coat and hat strode past Nicole, slamming the door behind her, shaking flakes off her shoulders, stamping her leather high-heeled boots on the rug. She acted as if she were entering her own house.

  Well, in a way, she was.

  Nicole had never fainted but at this moment she had an excellent sense of how it might feel.

  “Katya?” She had seen photos of Katya before, but she’d never laid eyes on the woman in person, in her glorious Technicolor glamour.

  “Damn, it’s wicked out there,” Katya said. She stripped her leather gloves off her long hands and dropped them on the front hall table. “You’ve moved the front hall chair,” she said to Nicole. “Where am I going to sit down to take off my boots?”

  Nicole was speechless.

  “Mommy?” Kennedy hurried into the hall, eyes wide. “Mommy! What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, Kennedy.” Katya turned her back on Nicole and held her arms out to her daughter. “Sweetie, thank heavens.” She hugged Kennedy tightly.

  Sebastian entered the hall, a perplexed expression on his face. “Katya?”

  “Sebby.” Reaching out, Katya put her hand on her ex-husband’s chest. “I apologize for arriving like this, but I just had to be here with my family. Alonzo and I had a terrible fight.” Katya’s head drooped elegantly, like a tulip. “We’re finished.”

  Kennedy’s face lit up like a beacon. “You and Alonzo broke up?” Her eyes fluttered back and forth between her father and moth
er.

  Nicole allowed herself to tilt backward slightly, in order to be supported by the wall. She forced herself to breathe.

  Sebastian stepped away from his ex-wife’s touch. “Why did you come here?” he asked. His voice was cool, and for that Nicole was grateful.

  Katya simpered. “I’ve spent practically every Christmas of my life in this house. Kennedy’s here. My grandson is here. Where else could I turn for comfort?”

  “You did the absolutely right thing, Mommy,” Kennedy assured her mother.

  Sebastian’s face darkened. “Don’t you think you’re being rather insensitive?” he demanded.

  Katya gazed innocently, widening her crystal-blue eyes. “What do you mean?”

  Nicole’s heart fluttered so rapidly she was afraid she was going to hyperventilate, pass out, and slide down the wall to the floor.

  In three strides, Sebastian was next to Nicole. He put his arms around her shoulders. “This is Nicole’s house now, not yours.”

  “Daddy!” Kennedy cried.

  “Oh, surely—” Katya began to object.

  “Grandmama!” Maddox ran into the hall and stared up at Katya, mouth open in wonder.

  “Katya,” James said, following his son. “What are you doing here?”

  “James, darling. And precious Maddox, my own grandson.” Katya knelt to embrace the boy. “Grandmama’s here to spend Christmas with you, Maddox. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  19

  Her mother was here! Kennedy was breathless with amazement, and her heart seemed to be expanding alarmingly as emotions jostled within her.

  Rapture at seeing her mother, actually here in this house.

  Dismay at having her mother see her, Kennedy, who had allowed herself to relax. She hadn’t put on her makeup yet, and it was already after lunch. She’d been lying down in front of the fire and hadn’t brushed her hair since—well, she couldn’t remember. Compared to Katya in her camel-hair trousers and cashmere sweater, her heavy gold necklace and earrings, Kennedy was absolutely frumpy in her red maternity tent.