Dear Emily. Fern Michaels
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you didn’t feel good.”
“Doing it made me feel better. I just have a scratchy throat. Really, I’m fine.”
“You’re the best, honey.”
Emily smiled and smiled. She smiled all evening long. She continued to smile when they made love far into the night. The smile stayed with her when she slept and was still with her when Ian nudged her in the morning and invited her to take a shower with him.
“I’m making breakfast for us this morning,” he said.
“In that case, I’ll have eggs, French toast, and bacon,” Emily called over her shoulder as she scooted for the bathroom. “Make the coffee dark and sweet and don’t forget the orange juice.”
“You got it. Last night was great, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, yes. I’m greedy, though. I want more.”
“Okay, same thing tonight. I’m going in for four hours. I have a kid I have to check. He’s worrying me. I might have to put him in the hospital.”
“Over Christmas?”
“I’ve been pumping him full of antibiotics but he isn’t responding the way he should be. He’s running a fever too. He’s a great little kid. Keeps asking me if I’m going to make him better. I tell him I’m going to try my best. He wants a pair of ice skates for Christmas. The family is too poor for gifts. I bought a pair for him, Emily, and a pair for his sister. Do you think it’s okay? I mean will his mother think I’m—you know.”
“Ian, that’s wonderful. His mother is going to be very grateful. Thank you for doing that.”
“Yeah, well, I did it for a few other kids too. Actually, twenty to be exact. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not. Christmas is for giving. I’m just grateful we can afford to do it.”
“Actually, the corporation did it. It’s a write-off, but that isn’t why I did it.”
“I know that, Ian. I knew I loved you for a reason.”
“Will you still love me if you have to wrap them?”
“Now, why did I know you were going to say that? Of course I’ll wrap them. Do you want them this afternoon?”
“Do I have a clean shirt for today; an ironed one?”
“Of course. They’re hanging on the back of the door.”
“Good girl,” Ian said, squeezing her arm.
“I have to go now. I’ll be back early.” The phone shrilled to life in the living room. “I’ll get it,” Ian said. “It’s for you, honey, it’s Heckling Pete’s.”
Emily’s stomach started to churn. He was ready to leave so why was he standing by the door? He’d kissed her cheek as she picked up the phone. He was deliberately stalling so he could hear her end of the conversation. “Hello,” she said cautiously.
“Emily, this is Pete. Listen, the workers managed to get the back room ready ahead of schedule. We scheduled three Christmas parties for this evening. I know I gave you a few days off, but I’m short of help. I’ll throw in an extra fifty bucks if you help me out.”
“I can’t, Pete. I have plans.” She wouldn’t look at Ian, she just wouldn’t.
“What about tomorrow?”
“Can’t, Pete, that’s Christmas Eve. Sorry.”
“Okay, no hard feelings. Have a nice holiday and I’ll see you after Christmas. Stop by and pick up your schedule and your year-end bonuses.”
“I will. Have a wonderful holiday.”
“Can you believe that!” Emily said, turning to face her husband. “He had the nerve to ask me to work on Christmas Eve. You have to set Pete straight in the beginning or he takes advantage of you. Is there anything special you’d like for dinner?”
“How about stew. I like to eat stew when it’s cold out. Put lots of carrots in it, okay?” He paused. “You’re going to be losing a whole week’s pay, right?”
“I really won’t be out that much. Pete is generous; he gives everyone a Christmas bonus.”
“Yes, but if you were working, we’d be that much farther ahead. What will he give you?”
“Probably a hundred dollars. That’s what he gave us last year. It’s generous. Most places don’t give waitresses anything.” She hated it when her voice turned pleading. Now she felt guilty for lying, guilty for not working the Christmas parties. She was letting Ian down. Her head pounded. “You better hurry, Ian, or you’re going to be late.”
All day, Emily was a whirling dervish, wrapping presents for Ian’s patients, and then her own presents, cutting vegetables, making sure she added carrots, cutting the meat into cubes, flouring it and then browning it. When it was simmering, the apartment tidy, she showered, did her best to tame her wild mane of hair, and had a cup of coffee. Ian would be in shortly. Maybe she should walk out back and bring in some of the firewood the landlord said they could use. Three trips would about do it if they wanted the fire to last all night. Ian did love a fire, but then so did she. Yes, she’d do a fire, turn on the tree lights, and everything would look toasty and cozy. Ian would be so happy, and when Ian was happy, she was happy.
Wasn’t that the way it was supposed to be?
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were everything Emily dreamed of. Ian’s gift of expensive perfume was a treasure to her. Secretly she liked the cut-glass crystal better than she liked the scent, but she doused herself to please her husband, who all but swooned when she put it on. The sweet, cloying scent gave her a headache.
When the Christmas dinner dishes were done and the apartment tidy, Ian drew Emily into the living room. They sat on the couch for a long time staring at the fragrant balsam. “I’ve never been happier, Ian. I wish this day could last forever. I just love Christmas, don’t you?”
“Hmmnnn. It was nice. We’re going to do this every year no matter what. We’re going to stop and smell the roses. We have our vacation to look forward to. Let’s go shopping tomorrow and get a few new clothes. You’ll need a few sundresses for the islands and maybe some shorts and sandals. We can afford to splurge a little. Make sure you bring that perfume. It drives me nuts. I’m going to make sure you never run out. I told the girl in the department store to call me at the clinic if it ever goes on sale. She said she would.”
Oh, God, Emily thought. He was tense and she wondered why. He was going to tell her something she wasn’t going to like. She could feel it coming because she knew him so well.
“It’s hard to believe a new year is just days away. Time is getting away from us, Emily. Opportunities have a way of knocking and people have a way of ignoring the knock on the door. I was never one of those people; how about you, Emily?”
She pretended not to know what he was talking about. “Oh, you mean like me enrolling in school? My opportunity, that kind of thing? I agree. And me getting pregnant? I think I’ll make a good mother, don’t you, Ian? I’m going to make a great teacher, too, because I just love kids. I can’t think of anything more rewarding than teaching little kids to read and write. I want to teach first grade. I’m really excited, Ian, that my turn is coming up.”
It wasn’t coming up, she could tell. Ian was going to spoil it. Still, she babbled on. “Remember our promise to each other, Ian. You promised me a baby and you promised I could go to school. That’s not going to change, is it?” She was tense now, nervous. She could feel a scream building up inside her. “I want to take courses all summer. June will be my cutoff date for work. Then in September I can start full time and maybe work a little, a few nights a week, maybe three hours a night twice a week.”
“You sound like you’ve really thought this all through, Emily,”