Chapter 30
It was Maddy’s first day back at work, called in for parent/teacher conferences for St. Bartholomew’s annual Open House. It had been a busy afternoon.
Now she sat down wearily in her chair, alone for the first time all day, kicked off her shoes, and stretched her legs. She leaned forward across her desk, flipped through her Braille calendar to December, and felt down to the twenty-third. She leaned back again and closed her eyes for just a moment.
She let her mind take her back to that special anniversary.
1965
It was the twenty-third of December, and Peter had taken Maddy ice-skating for the first time in her life. The Charles Moore Arena was lit up with hundreds of white lights, the ice so bright it was blinding, encircled by Christmas trees. Maddy had always been afraid of ice-skating, but when Peter parked in the lot and she saw where he had brought her, with all the lights and gaiety and laughing skaters, she took his hand, speechless.
“I am an excellent skater.” Peter bragged as he pulled Maddy by her gloves toward the doors. “At least, I played ice hockey for all four years in high school, so that should count for something. You don’t have to be worried because I’m not going to let you fall. I promise.”
He helped her with her skates and led her out onto the ice, then held her until she got her balance. He slid carefully along by her side as they skated slowly. It was all so charming, like floating through sparkling space. The loudspeakers projected Christmas music as the skaters danced, and she glanced at Peter under the lights, wishing time could stand still so the two of them could dance forever on the ice, figures in a tiny music box.
After only a few falls, Maddy learned to skate on her own a foot or so from Peter. They drank hot chocolate and laughed together, watching the other skaters fend for themselves on the ice.
When Peter drove Maddy home later, the lights from the Christmas tree in the Marsden front window sparkled through the curtains, and they stood outside a moment looking at the decorated homes up and down their street.
“I love Christmas so.” Maddy snuggled under his arm in the frost air.
“Me too.” Peter hugged her to him, their white breath mingling in the dark. “I always have. I guess it’s my mother and her obsession with it rubbing off on me.”
“I don’t think I could ever be with anyone who didn’t love Christmas as much as I do.”
“I know why I love it. What about you?”
“Aside from Santa?”
Peter chuckled. “Got to love Santa.”
“I love that everything seems possible at Christmas time. I always believed that if there was ever a time when miracles happened, it had to be Christmas. I love going to church on Christmas Eve, I love the music at Christmas, the smells, the food, the way everything’s transformed with decorations and lights. I think people are more mindful of the good they have. I don’t know if anyone’s ever done a study, but there has to be less crime during Christmas.”
“I don’t know about that,” Peter said, laughing. “But I agree with everything else you said.”
Maddy stood on her tiptoes and kissed Peter. They stared at one another, as a tiny snowflake fell between their faces.
“Did you see that?”
Peter looked up and smiled. “I did.”
More fell around them.
“It’s snowing, Peter!” Maddy clapped her hands. “It’s a sign. The snow is blessing us!”
“You are so cute.” He braced his arms around her, smiling down into her eyes.
When her eyes met his and she saw the look on his face, she felt like a Christmas angel. Snowflakes landed and melted on her lips. “Say it.” She laughed. “Say it’s a blessing!”
“It’s a blessing.”
Maddy laughed out loud and jumped, almost pulling him down as she held tightly to his neck. He spun her in his arms as she screamed and laughed. “You have to come inside with me. I don’t want this evening to end.” Maddy touched Peter’s arm and pulled it towards her. “Let’s make a fire and sit by my tree and pretend we’re married.”
“I don’t have to pretend, Maddy. It will happen. Wait!” Peter whispered. “I want to give you something out here first. I want us to be by ourselves when you open this.”
Maddy looked up at Peter, her eyelashes heavy with snowflakes. He put his hand deep into his coat pocket and pulled out a small box with a silver bow on it. She took it in her hands, opening it slowly.
“Oh, Peter, this is too much.” She gasped out loud. “We said we were only going to spend twenty dollars.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful.” She pulled out a thin silver chain, a slanted silver heart with a small diamond dangling from it. “Peter.” She put her arms around him and touched his lips with her fingertips. As the snow fell, they stood kissing long and soft, Maddy inside his warm coat, deep in his arms.
She looked up at him, her bright eyes sparkling. “This is the best Christmas I’ll ever have.”
“This is just the beginning.” Peter said softly as the snow came down around them.
1985
“Madeline, are you ready?” Betty stood at the door.
The sound of her voice startled Maddy. “I’m sorry. I was somewhere else. In the snow—”
“I could see that. Must have been some snowstorm.”
Maddy smiled, one hand moving unconsciously to her collarbone where no necklace hung. “It was.”
Peter sat on his front steps holding the newspaper in his hands. He flipped the pages towards the back, scanning the real estate section. He inhaled deeply at the thought of having his own home. He wanted a home like Amanda and Jake’s, where he could be the one building the fire every evening. A home where his children could play in the yard, and he could grill on the weekends for his—Peter exhaled at the thought of someday looking up to see Maddy in his own kitchen, his wife.
“Perfection,” he mumbled as he flipped through the pages.
He scanned the ads with his finger, looking at the price ranges first and then locations. Although he loved Boston, there was something about Chatham that always remained close to his heart.
His finger stopped at a four-bedroom, one and a half bath Cape Cod home in the reasonable price range. “Stone patio.” “West-facing lawn.” An image of himself mowing the lawn on Saturday mornings flashed through his mind, a picture of Maddy in a straw hat and gardening gloves working with her sensitive fingers among the flowerbeds.
Peter looked up and across the street at the wall of apartment buildings. “I want my own slice of heaven,” he said out loud. “I want to till the soil for a garden for Maddy. I want to grow tomatoes and pick them right out of the yard for last-minute salad.” He glanced back down at the ad. “I want a home in need of just a little carpentry so I can plan projects with Maddy and remodel or restore it all myself on the weekends.”
It was all so clear in his mind.
“I want that life.”
Peter folded the paper in his hands and stood to walk inside. He trembled a bit as he felt the cold front moving in. He looked up at the swiftly moving clouds overhead. November had arrived, and right now the most important thing he needed to do was to call the plumber back.
It was evening in Denver, Maddy was playing hand games with her little niece Lilly while Sam watched and Kate cleared the table. Lilly reached to slap Maddy’s hand and missed. Maddy laughed, Lilly shrieked, and before anyone could move Maddy’s wine glass wobbled and went over. Lilly burst into tears.
“Lilly!” Sam leapt forward with a napkin. “Did she get it on you, Madeline?”
Maddy stood and touched her jeans with her palms. “It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t cry. Aunt Madeline’s okay.”
Lilly climbed awkwardly out of her chair and ran crying into the kitchen.
“Katie, she’s fine! She just spilled something,” Sam called after her. “Are you okay?” he added softly across the table.
“Really. It didn’t get on me.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“She told you?” Maddy’s head came up quickly.
“It’s not like there’s anything to be embarrassed about. Don’t get mad. She was just worried about you. Kate loves you and so do I. You know that, right?”
“I know, Sam. I’m blessed.” Maddy reached for his hand.
Kate returned from the kitchen with a tray of coffee and cake, Lilly clinging to her leg. Kate glanced at Sam. Sam gestured with his chin, and Kate shook her head faintly.
“Madeline, would you like coffee?”
“Yes, please. But I would also like to know.”
“What?” Kate set the tray on the table.
“Why you invited me over tonight. You said you and Sam wanted to talk. So here I am. What’s it about? Spill it, Kate.”
Kate sat down and signaled to Sam with her fingers. “Sam wants to read something to you. Sam?” Kate smiled weakly at him, taking Lilly on her lap, and he got up from the table to reach for a newspaper on a shelf.
“My partner’s brother lives in Boston.” Sam sat down again. “I called him a few days ago to do a little research on Peter for me. I wanted him to find out a bit more about him and he did.”
“Is something wrong? Is it something bad?”
“Calm down, Madeline.” Kate touched Maddy’s hand. “Let Sam read the article.”
“Why would there be an article in the paper about Peter?” Maddy turned her face from one voice to the other.
“He made a copy of yesterday’s society page and faxed it to me.” Sam unfolded the paper and shook it out. “It’s about Peter and how he’s taken on this historical project that’s going to change Boston’s skyline. It’s big news.” Sam cleared his throat. “Here goes: ‘Peter Michaels of Rowland and Michaels Architectural Firm has been challenged with reconstruction of the Boston Historical Library Compound. Built in 1845, the Kessler and Brown edifice stood five stories high, its bell tower with ornate moldings a popular tourist attraction, until the fire of 1979. Boston Mayor Patrick Fleming, Massachusetts Governor Michael S. Dukakis and the Boston Historical Society signed Michaels after an extensive screening process. Michaels is excited about the project, especially as it coincides with his upcoming—’ ” Sam stopped reading.
“What? Why did you stop?”
Sam looked at Kate.
“Don’t do this to me.” Maddy took Kate’s wrist and squeezed it hard. “I have to know.”
“I’ll read it.” Kate took the paper from Sam and continued out loud over Lilly’s head. “ ‘Michaels is excited about the project, especially as it coincides with his upcoming wedding to socialite and entrepreneur Tara Spencer. Heralded as the event of the season, the wedding is rumored to include invitations to Senator and Mrs. Ted Kennedy.’ ”
Kate put down the paper and took Sam’s hand. They looked at Maddy.
She sat slowly back in her chair, twisting her napkin in her lap.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said quietly after a moment.
“We didn’t want to upset you.” Sam glanced at Kate.
“It wasn’t your fault, Katie. I’m glad I found out. This changes everything.” Maddy glanced up. “I was right.”
“Madeline—” Kate lifted Lilly quickly in her lap to pull her chair closer to Maddy.
“A mission of mercy.” Maddy’s voice was bitter. “Setting things right, making amends, finding closure, you know, before embarking on the next chapter in his life.”
“You don’t know that,” Sam interjected.
“The paper seems to. His fiancée? She must have been the woman who answered the phone when we called him, Katie.”
Kate handed Lilly to Sam, who rose and walked heavily into the other room, Lilly gazing back over his shoulder with her thumb in her mouth as Kate took both Maddy’s hands. “Sweetie, we didn’t want to upset you. But we thought you should know.”
Maddy pulled her hands away from Kate. “I’d like to go home now. I’m really tired. Can you take me home, Sam? Sam!” Maddy called his name out louder and louder, unable to stop, until her voice became hoarse.