Lovefest, p.18
Lovefest, page 18
“And? That doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to being your kids.”
“True. They’re busy. It’s always been that way. I’m sure they’ll miss me. Maybe it will be good for them,” Ellie offered.
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder?”
“Something like that.” Ellie sipped from the teacup in her hand. “It hurt—being apart from you—even for a short time.”
Jean nodded. “I meant what I said. I might not let you leave again.”
“What if I don’t?”
Jean’s brows knitted with confusion.
“Leave,” Ellie said.
“I thought we agreed to discuss how we should make things permanent after Christmas?”
“We did. I don’t want to wait. And I don’t want you to move to California. I don’t want to be apart again—not for weeks at a time, and not without knowing where we will both land.”
“I don’t want that, either. But—”
“Do you have a burning desire to live in California?” Ellie asked. “If that’s the case, we can talk about it. If not—”
“No. I don’t. I have a burning desire to be with you.”
“And I’m here.”
“Are you sure you want to move your life?”
Ellie took a deep breath. “My family will always be a part of my life. They won’t all stay on the West Coast. I’m confident Jordan will stay in New England. And who knows about the other kids? My grandchildren’s decisions will change things for Kathie and Jack, too. For most of my life, they were the center of my world, and I was theirs. Things change as people grow. Kathie and Jack are learning that lesson with Steve and Jordan. I’m no longer the focus of my kids’ lives, and that’s how it should be. My life—what I have left to live is about sharing it with you.”
Jean’s heart raced as she looked at Ellie, trying to grasp the weight of her words. She scooted across the sofa and touched Ellie’s cheek. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Do you mean that I’d leave sunny Southern California for blustery New England?”
“That you love a blustery old professor like me.”
“Oh, honey, I love your bluster.”
Jean’s laughter filled the room. “You’re sure?”
“I’m positive I love your bluster.” Ellie smiled and kissed Jean. “Yes. I’m sure.”
“In that case, I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me, too.” Ellie’s lips met Jean’s in an emotional kiss.
“Ellie,” Jean whispered.
“I know.” Ellie ran a fingertip over the curve of Jean’s cheek. “You can’t know how good it feels to be home.”
Jean stood and held out her hand.
“Yes?” Ellie asked.
“Come to bed, Ellie. I need to hold you.”
Ellie smiled and took Jean’s hand.
“You know, Jordan will be delirious when she finds out you plan to stay?”
“Only because hanging out with you improves her cool factor,” Ellie said.
“Hardly.”
“Oh, I think you underestimate your cool factor.”
“Do I?”
Ellie grinned.
Jean’s hand slipped underneath Ellie’s sweater.
“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.
“Establishing my cool factor.”
Ellie laughed. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Ellie.”
chapter eleven
NORTHAMPTON, MASSACHUSETTS
Wednesday, November 22nd
Ellie tried not to chuckle at the panic on Jean’s face.
“How did we end up with seventeen people coming here for Thanksgiving?” Jean asked. “Seventeen!”
Ellie shrugged and slid the turkey into the oven.
“That will never feed seventeen people,” Jean said.
“Which is why this one is going in the oven today. Beth will be here in a while with the one for tomorrow.”
“It’s only noon. I’m exhausted, and all I’ve done is play the role of a spectator. Tell me what I can do to help,” Jean offered.
“Jordan and Mary will be here in less than an hour to help.”
“You’ve done this before.”
“Oh, I’ve fed the masses a few times.”
“Seventeen people?” Jean asked.
Until Ed’s death, Ellie’s home was where everyone gathered. Their immediate family consisted of eleven people. “I’m used to it,” she said. “I suppose I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed it since Ed died,” Ellie said. She smiled at the confounded expression on Jean’s face. “Our house was holiday central.”
“Holiday central?”
“That’s the best way I can describe it to you. Everyone came to us—everyone.”
Jean nodded.
“Does that surprise you?”
It didn’t surprise Jean that Ellie would play host to the masses or that she would enjoy that role. Ellie possessed a creative spirit and an outgoing personality. “No. When you told me about spending the holidays with Jack or Kathie’s in-laws, I assumed you went to one of their homes.”
“That didn’t happen until Ed was gone. I think the kids wanted to take the pressure off me.”
“Why do I get the feeling you didn’t see it that way?” Jean asked.
“I appreciated their efforts,” Ellie replied. “But it felt like another strange evolution in my life at a time when I desperately needed normalcy. My world shifted when Ed died. I suddenly realized everything I took for granted—like Ed sorting the newspaper so I could read the arts section first thing in the morning while he read the front page. Changing traditions made me miss him more, and if I’m honest, it made me feel a bit irrelevant.”
“I’m sure Kathie and Jack don’t find you irrelevant.”
“No. I know, but that doesn’t change how it feels. This?” Ellie waved her hand around the kitchen. “Cooking and baking in waves, decorating—it’s what I’ve done since my kids were little. Back then, we had our parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews, and there were always a few stragglers—friends who found themselves alone for the holidays at the house. Once my kids got married, it became their families and extended families. Julie’s brother lives in Scotland, and Brett’s sisters live in Florida and Texas. Even when they made their way home for the holidays, they normally landed at our house.” Ellie chuckled.
“You’ve missed it.”
“I have, but it’s more than that.”
Jean lifted a brow.
“It’s also doing this with you,” Ellie said. “Something tells me this will be one of the smaller holiday gatherings we’ll host.”
“Oh, God.”
Ellie laughed. “Scared?”
“No.”
“Are you sure about that?” Ellie asked as she moved to start another pot of coffee.
“I’m sure,” Jean said. “It was never that way for me—not as a kid and not with Beth. We had people to the house, but until Bridget was in her teens, we almost always had holidays with Beth’s folks. And then—well, after we split, things changed.”
“For you,” Ellie guessed.
Jean nodded. “You know Beth. She always invited me—to everything, no matter who or where a celebration was held.”
“But you didn’t feel comfortable.”
“I wanted them to have time, Ellie—time to build their relationship and a bridge with Bridget. Bridget never outwardly displayed her pain. It hurt her when Beth and I split.”
“I’m sure.”
“And she was angry when Beth moved in with Ginny. She never said it. I could tell. My presence seemed to make that worse,” Jean explained. “So, I stepped aside. We always found time to spend together as a family. We didn’t start celebrating holidays together again until Hannah came along.”
“Is this too much for you?” Ellie asked.
“What? No. Not at all. I’ve just never experienced it—never. I told you when we first met, my parents didn’t spend loads of time with my brother or me.”
Ellie nodded. A late-night conversation years ago popped into her head.
JULY 28, 1969
PROVINCETOWN, MASSACHUSETTS
“Are you close to your brother?” Jean asked.
“Brendan? He’s nine years younger than me and a pain in my ass, but yes.”
“A pain in your ass?”
“He’s spoiled. I mean—spoiled. I don’t think my parents expected they’d have any more children. And a boy?” Ellie rolled her eyes. “I love him. He could burn down the house, and they’d likely say it was time.”
Jean laughed.
“But I love him. What about you?”
“Jim is okay. He’s three years older than me. It doesn’t seem like much, but sometimes I think we live in different universes.”
“He’s different?”
“Oh, he’s different. He voted for Nixon.”
“To your horror,” Ellie commented.
“Yes!” Jean groaned. “My parents have always been vocal about their beliefs. I think it made him uncomfortable. My dad hated Wallace and didn’t have much use for Nixon, either. He’s a Kennedy Democrat—a Bobby Kennedy Democrat. Jim’s friends? Most of their parents were all in for Nixon. And me? He was afraid of someone discovering that his sister was a lesbian.”
Ellie didn’t know what to say. She never thought about her sexuality—not until she met Jean. And her family rarely discussed politics. It wasn’t polite. She knew they could be judgmental. Ellie preferred to keep her thoughts to herself. She loved being at college and promised herself she’d never live at home again. Her family was as close as she imagined any could be. They never addressed their differences at the supper table or during holiday celebrations. Little comments about blacks, Jews, homosexuals, and hippies made Ellie cringe. When her mother or grandfather made a derogatory statement, Ellie found a reason to excuse herself.
“Ellie?”
“Sorry.”
“Did I upset you?” Jean asked.
“No. I admire you.”
“Why?”
“My family can be—a bit like your brother’s friends.”
Jean nodded. “Are you close to them?”
“Sure. I love them. I don’t always understand them. Are we close? I think so. My mom is—well, she has a lot of opinions. I wouldn’t say she’s overly affectionate. But I know she cares.”
“And your dad?”
“I think my mom speaks for my dad.” Ellie giggled. “He’d do anything for Brendan and me. And my grandparents—his parents are the best.”
“Then you’re lucky.”
Ellie shook her head.
“Believe me, I’m glad my folks don’t care about me being a lesbian,” Jean said.” We don’t talk about it. It’s understood. You know?”
Ellie nodded.
“They’ve always been busy with their careers. Holidays? That’s not really a thing in our house. TV dinners. That’s a thing.”
“But you spent time here, didn’t you?” Ellie asked.
Jean shrugged. “When I was a kid, everyone came here. But we didn’t spend time with the adults. I remember Jim watching me most days—even at the water. I think he resents that a little, too. I can’t say I blame him. He wanted to be with his friends, not play babysitter. He hasn’t come home for a holiday since his senior year of college.”
PRESENT DAY
Ellie busied herself with cleaning and peeling squash. “Jean?”
“Hm?”
“Have you spoken to Jim recently?”
“I called him while you were in California.”
Ellie nodded.
“I told him about us, if that’s what you wanted to know.”
“That’s not why I asked. We’ve talked about my family plenty. You haven’t said much about yours.”
Jean sighed. “Probably because there isn’t much to say. I haven’t seen him in six months. We’ve never been close, Ellie. That was true when you and I met. I mean, I care about him and know he cares about me. We’re different people. He’s mellowed. But he’s always struggled with me.”
“Do you mean your sexuality?”
“I think he accepted that decades ago. And he loves Beth and Bridget. He’ll love you, too. No doubt. I think it’s more how vocal I am.”
“Vocal?”
Jean grinned.
“You are impossible,” Ellie said. “How can you turn a conversation about family to—”
“Vocalization?”
Ellie shook her head.
Jean sighed again. “I suppose it’s because I don’t talk about it much—my brother and me. I wish he could be proud of me, even if he disagrees with my opinions.”
It never ceased to amaze Ellie how no one ever grew up—not when it came to what they desired most. She understood Jean’s feelings intimately. Ellie never felt she measured up to her mother’s expectations. She’d tried every way she could to bridge the gap between them, to foster a closer relationship with her mother. Ellie still wasn’t sure what her mother felt or thought about her. “Maybe you should call and invite him to spend Christmas here with us.”
Jean leaned forward and blinked. “You think I should invite Jim here?”
“I don’t know. Should you? Could you?”
Jean leaned against the kitchen island and massaged her forehead.
“Honey, if it will cause you anxiety, don’t ask him,” Ellie said.
“He’ll probably say he has plans.”
“Can I ask? What makes you hesitant? Are you afraid he’ll decline, or are you worried about tension if he accepts?”
“Both.” Jean groaned. “Truthfully?”
“That would be nice.”
“I don’t want to hear him tell me he’s sorry he can’t come when the truth of it is he doesn’t want to be here.”
Ellie set down the peeler and went to Jean. “Have you ever invited him?”
“Once. About twenty-five years ago.”
Ellie raised her brow.
“You think I should,” Jean said.
“No. But I don’t think you should assume anything based on what he said twenty-five years ago. If you don’t feel comfortable inviting him for the holiday, invite him down for a weekend.”
Jean took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It was almost eerie, the way Ellie understood her—how Ellie knew what she felt before she could examine it herself.
Ellie kissed Jean’s lips. “The worst he can say is no. And I know it will sting for a minute, but it will hurt less than regret.”
“Christmas, huh?”
Ellie shrugged.
“Maybe I will,” Jean said.
Ellie smiled and returned to her task at the counter when the front door opened with a bang.
“Mom!” Bridget called out.
Ellie laughed. “I was sure that would be Jordan.”
“Gram!”
Jean shook her head and chuckled. “Guess we got two for one.”
Jordan stepped into the room with Hannah riding on her back and Mary and Bridget following behind.
“Hello?” a voice called from the living room. “Gram?”
“I lied,” Jean said.
Ellie raised her brow. “It’s not two for one. It’s Hail, Hail, the Gang’s All Here.”
“We’re in here,” Ellie called out. Before she could say hello to Steve, another voice called from the front door.
“Hello!” Beth’s voice echoed.
Jean covered her face and laughed.
Ellie shook her head and started laughing, too.
Steve looked at Jordan, who looked at Bridget. “What’s so funny?” Jordan asked.
“Maybe we should have dinner today and dessert tomorrow,” Jean offered.
“Here you all are,” Beth said.
“Did we miss a day?” Ginny asked.
“What?” Bridget asked.
“I asked if we skipped a day,” Ginny replied. She held up a finger and counted the people crammed into Jean’s kitchen. “Ten,” she said. “Are we early?” she teased.
“A day early,” Jean replied.
Beth laughed. “I’m going to put the turkey in the basement.”
Steve’s eyes flew open.
“In the refrigerator,” Ellie clarified as she chuckled.
“Oh.”
“What can we help with?” Beth asked.
“You can take the masses out of my kitchen,” Ellie said.
Jean grinned. Ellie’s direction had no deeper meaning than clearing her workspace. It was said without thought or reservation. This had become Ellie’s kitchen. That made this house feel more like home to Jean than she ever dreamed possible.
Beth caught the twinkle in Jean’s eyes and smiled. “All right,” she said. “Everyone out of Ellie’s kitchen except me.”
“Why you?” Bridget asked.
“Because I agreed to help Ellie this afternoon.”
“So did I,” Jordan said.
Beth nodded. “Everyone out of Ellie’s kitchen except me and Jordan. Now.”
“What if we’re hungry?” Steve asked.
“The sooner you get out of my way, the faster you’ll get fed,” Ellie said.
Steve grabbed Kelsey’s hand. “That’s our cue!”
“Come on,” Jean said. “We can bring this into the living room.”
Jordan looked at Ellie. “Are you really going to feed everyone now?” she asked.
Ellie exchanged an amused glance with Beth.
“Yes,” Beth said. “I’m going to call and order pizzas.”
“Thank you,” Ellie said.
“Thank Jean. She’s paying.” Beth wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, entering the dining room.
“And I thought holidays at home were nuts!” Jordan said.
Ellie winked. We are home, Jordan.
The laughter from the kitchen flowed into the living room, making it impossible for Steve not to smile. He shook his head. “Kelsey will never be the same after this weekend.”
Jean nodded. “Safe bet.”
“Jean?” he asked.
“Hm?”
“Gram has told us a lot about meeting you. What was Gram like back then?”
“Oh,” Jean began. “She was a lot like she is now.”
