C
HAPTER
24
“Rebecca?” I repeated, my eyes blinking but the image somehow remaining. I realized that was exactly the person who had just walked through the front entrance of George's Tavern. My unpredictable sister, wholly living up to her reputation right now, and behind her, equally surprising, was her son, Junior, a small, wiry kid with dark hair and glasses. Thrust into such unfamiliar surroundings, the din of the crowd and the music blaring, it was no surprise that he clung hard to his mother. I didn't remember him as the garrulous type. It must be hard to be with a mother as vocal as Rebecca.
Wearing a slinky dress and a wry smile, she made her way toward the bar. She caught the attention of more than one patron. I slipped out from behind the bar and grabbed her with more enthusiasm than I'd intended. As we pulled apart, I said, “You know, you look just like my sister.”
She punched me.
“Same personality, too,” I said. “Hi, Junior, how are you? Good to see you.”
He looked up at his mother, unsure of me. I hadn't seen Junior in over a year; which meant he hadn't seen me, either, and so his welcome was anything but enthusiastic. But he did finally shake my hand with a surprisingly firm grip, and in return I tousled his hair, hoping to get a smile. He tried a tiny one before giving up. My sister and I hugged again, which was rare, as well. But I was overcome by the fact that they had showed up; I had considered my parents coming a long shot and Rebecca an even further one.
“We would have been here sooner, but I got lost. Thankfully my headlights caught sight of the windmill you always talk aboutâotherwise I might not have known we had found what we were looking for. I blinked, nearly missed it. It's a really small town, Brian.” Then she gazed about the crowded room. “Not that you can tell with the number of people here. Let me guess, free booze?”
“Ha. Free food, yes. The booze you gotta pay for.”
“Even for family?”
I mixed a cranberry and vodka for Rebecca, then a Coke for Junior, and when they were settled with some food I called Janey over. Surprise was written across her face when she saw Rebecca, but at least she remembered her and politely said hello. I introduced Janey to Junior, glad to finally do so after Rebecca had failed to bring him to Thanksgiving. Junior was ten years old and just a couple of inches taller than Janey. He was way more shy, too.
“I'm playing with my friend, Ashley, but you can join us. Wanna pick out some songs on the jukebox?”
“Can I, Mother?”
Rebecca gave him a dollar for the music, saying, “Have fun, Junior. Take good care of him, won't you, Janey?”
The kids went running off, and after I served a couple of patrons some refills, I returned to my sister's side to sneak in a moment's conversation. Our parents had left for their cruise, her ex-husband was off to see his own parents somewhere out west, leaving Rebecca and Junior alone for the holidays. “So I figured, why not, Janey and Junior would meet eventually, so why not take care of it now? And I wanted to see what this windmill thing was all about. Though I'd like to see it up close in the daylight.”
“You couldn't see it with all those lights on?”
She had no idea what I was talking about, and then I realized that in my haste today to get everything ready for the party I had forgotten to flip the power switch. The windmill tonight stood shadowy against a dark sky, alone. Linden Corners was alive with the holiday spirit, but Annie was darkened, quiet. I wanted to dash out right now and light the windmill, but I had responsibilities here. So I assured Rebecca she would see the windmill before night's end, “and don't worry, it's quite a sight.”
While we talked and she drank, I learned that she had dumped that guy Rex soon after Thanksgiving. “We were never serious, I just brought him to piss Mother off. She hates the men I date; the ones I marry, too, which is not always mutually exclusive. It's nice to give her something to complain about. For us it's conversation. Ol' Rexy served his purposeâin many ways and many times.” Ignoring her innuendo, I happily changed the topic. I insisted that she and Junior stay overnight at the farmhouse, thrilled at the idea of having a houseful of guests.
As I'd been talking with Rebecca, a flushed Mark Ravens returned to his post behind the bar, and a short while later Sara resurfaced. Her hair was slightly askew and I didn't have to venture a second guess about where they'd been and what they'd been doing all this time. Good solid walls, indeed. But Mark's return enabled me to take a break myself. I wandered outside to get away from the noise and the crowd and take in some fresh air. I left Rebecca talking with, of all people, Chuck Ackroyd, who wanted to know, “Is this pretty lady from the city, too?” I decided to leave the discoveries to themselves.
Snow was falling on this crystal night, cars and sidewalks lightly coated. Though I didn't have a coat on, after the heat of the bar I welcomed the bracing air. I stepped off the porch and wandered away from the building, glad to have a moment to myself. There was no denying that the annual tavern party was a smashing success, and apparently I'd done a good enough job of telling my friends and family how important it was to me. That John and Anna were here was remarkable; Rebecca bringing Junior so he could meet Janey, that was one for the ages.
I was feeling the chill now and remembered my coat was in my car, so I went to retrieve it. Voices coming from the back steps halted my progress. I recognized one of them as Janey's. I was about to make a hasty retreat when I heard the word
father,
which made me stop in my tracks. If I made a noise, I might be discovered, and that would be far worse than what I was really doing. Because I was curious to hear what she had to say, and while eavesdropping wasn't in my nature, given all that had been going on between me and Janey perhaps I might gain a little insight. So I listened in.
“He's not, you know, my father,” Janey said.
“I didn't think so,” said Junior, his squeaky voice distinctive. “I mean, I haven't seen Uncle Brian in, uh, well, at least a year and I didn't remember him having a kid then. Or even being married. He was always the guy we saw at Christmas, or sometimes visiting him in his tiny New York apartment. So you can't just show up one day with an . . . eight-year-old girl and say âLook, I have a kid.'”
“Nope.”
“So what happened?”
“My real father died many years ago. And my momma, a bad thing happened to herânot so long ago. It's probably not nice to say, but I miss her more. My father I know more through the stories Momma told me and the pictures she showed me and just a few of my own memories of him. But Momma? There are lots of memories there. What about you, you're luckyâyou have both a mom and a dad.”
“Except they don't live together. It's because they always fight, and sometimes those fights are even about me,” said Junior. “I think you're the lucky one. I like Uncle Brian. He's . . .”
“Silly,” Janey said.
“Yeah.”
“But he's very good to me, Junior. He makes me pancakes for breakfast whenever I want, and he takes me on tripsâI went to New York City and saw the biggest Christmas tree everâand one day all we did all day was go sledding. He even took a turn. It didn't go so well. Then he made me the best hot chocolate.”
“Sounds like a dad to me,” Junior said.
“Except he's not.” There was a moment's pause and then I heard Janey say, “Do you think it's possible someone can have a father and a dad?”
“Maybe. I mean, my father will always be my father, but sometimes when my mother gets a new boyfriend she asks me whether I wouldn't mind having a âdad' around the house. That's what she calls them. Luckily she's in between âdads' right now, so it will be just her and me for Christmas.”
“Did you decorate a tree?”
“Yeah, even though we're not home to see it. She insisted, 'cause we had to hang our special decorations.”
“An ornament with your name on it?” Janey asked.
My ears perked up, hoping for some new information.
“I got mine the year I was bornâI'm supposed to think about my Uncle Philip when I hang the ornament, but I didn't even know him. So I just try and find a high branch and hope that I'm taller than the year before.”
I had heard enough, and fearing that if I lingered any longer they would discover me, I crouched back to the front of the building as quietly as possible. Before returning to the bar I wiped my moist eyes, not from the cold. Tears had started to flow as I'd listened to them, these two complete strangers, bonding over the saddest idea imaginable, the notion of lost parents. I was grateful to Junior, who had miraculously gotten Janey talking, thinking maybe now that he'd opened the gates, the flood might pass through the village and find its way home. So Janey and I could heal whatever rift had come between us.
The rest of the night passed in a blur, so focused on Janey was I. The food was gone, the pies had been served, and the number of guests had begun to dwindle down to the regulars. Ashley and her parents were long gone, but Janey had opted to stay. She and Junior were quietly playing cards at a table in the far corner. When the clock struck eleven, I realized they were still wide awake and I suggested maybe it was time to get them back to the farmhouse. They'd probably crash the moment we got back. I mentioned this to Mark, who offered to close up the bar.
“Maybe keep it open awhile, the tips are good.”
“Keep in mind, only regulars remain.”
“Oh, right, so much for tips.”
“We heard that,” said Marla and Darla.
“Okay, Brian, but before you go I have an announcement to make,” he said, and then, because he wanted the remaining crowd to hear him, he climbed on top of the bar and whistled for everyone to quiet down. Someone pulled the plug on the jukebox and suddenly the bar was filled with rapt silence, everyone staring expectantly at Mark. I caught a glimpse of Sara out of the corner of my eye, saw the smile that brightened her face and guessed what was coming. And indeed I was right, as Mark announced that not only were he and Sara moving into the apartment upstairs the first of the year, they were engaged to be married.
“I couldn't wait until Christmas morning,” he said.
“And I couldn't wait to say yes,” Sara said, joining her new fiancé atop the bar. They hugged and kissed amidst a chorus of drunken cheers.
As the crowd quieted down and the two of them hopped off the bar, the crowd encircled the happy couple, Martha taking the lead. I took a step back, found Cynthia coming up to me. Said she was going to take Janey back to her place.
“Stay and enjoy yourself, Brian. Janey can stay with me and Brad tonight, and if she wants she can even invite Junior over. We've had a nice chat, the three of us. Bradley doesn't mindâwhen does he, the saint. It would be good for us to have a house with a couple of kids near Christmastime, you know? That will give you more time with your friends and your sister. Rebecca is quite a character, Bri, I can't believe you're related to her.”
“I sometimes wish I weren't.”
“I think she's been flirting with Chuck all night.”
“Case in point.”
“I think he's completely in the dark about who she is, too, isn't that a riot?”
We shared a hearty laugh over that. Imagine Chuck's expression when he found out the sexy lady in the slinky dress was related to the man he despised.
Before I could give my blessing to this sudden sleepover, I pulled Janey aside and asked her if she was okay with it.
“Yeah, don't worry, Brian, you have other people to take care of tonight.”
Her words stung me deep inside, as though I had anyone more important to worry over or to take care of. She was my life and my world, and she was drifting away from me. With tomorrow being Christmas Eve, I felt uncontrollable fear grip my heartâthe hoped-for joyous holiday I had dreamed of wasn't happening. Just the reverse, actually, and there seemed nothing I could do to stop it.
“Sure, have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow,” I said, watching as Janey went out the door with Cynthia and Brad, Junior happily trailing behind them. Turned out they'd already checked with my sister. Rebecca hadn't had a problem with the arrangement, and I suspected she was gearing up for a night of partying.
Please don't hook up with Chuck Ackroyd,
that was all I hoped for. As for me, the party mood had seeped out of me. I tossed down my apron in frustration.
Mark had command of the bar, and Gerta offered to help him out. She had a lot of stamina tonight, and I was happy she had embraced the day with such gusto. A tribute to George for sure.
“Go ahead, Brian, you look exhausted,” she urged me.
I left the tavern ten minutes later, Rebecca and John and Anna in tow, my past life like a sudden invasion inside Linden Corners. We did not go directly to the farmhouse. Instead I drove them out toward the highway, parking at the edge of the open field where we could see the giant windmill in the beams of our headlights. Even though the snow continued to fall and the air was cold, I asked them all to sit on the hood of their cars and “just wait.” I went running across the field, quickly unlocked the front door of the windmill, and finally flicked on the light switch. I sent a silent apology to Annie, hoped she hadn't been too cold. Suddenly the world was lit with hundreds of bright white lights, and I dashed back to rejoin my friends and my sister, all of whom were awed by the magical sight before them. Tonight the sails spun, the falling snow like chilled fireflies dancing in the glow.