Authors: Leen Elle
Nathaniel West died late in the afternoon near the end of November. It was an unspeakably grave day for all, though his death certainly hadn't been a surprise. He'd given them numerous scares before, countless times in the past. From the first day Gail met him he'd held no reserve when discussing his death. After all, as he'd said, we're all dying, aren't we? They'd known he was on the brink this
time, that
it was possible, yet it still shook them all to their cores.
The family boarded Violet for the funeral, heading far out into the ocean until only a sliver of land was visible on the horizon. The weather seemed to do him justice, which made Nat and Michael smile. The water was horribly chilly, splashing aboard the decks where the boys were leaning over the edge and turning their cheeks pink, and the wind was in a fury, its howling seeming to mimic Nathaniel's contentious attitude and terrible temper.
All dressed in black, they gathered at the edge to watch as his ashes were thrown into the ocean's waves. Ignoring her sisters' pleas that she ought to bury him in a cemetery, Gail wanted everything to be just as Nathaniel had wished it, for she'd always remember the day he told her about what he wanted to happen when he finally did die. So she didn't drag him to a cemetery or buy an expensive coffin or place a slab or marble on top that said something silly and untrue. And she didn't buy a bunch of pretty flowers to place over a man who was dead. For if he could see her now, somehow, she didn't want him to think she was a fool for wasting her money on a corpse. But she did weep, just once, when she returned to an empty bedroom that night and realized he truly was gone. With her body curled up into a little ball and her head nestled into the pillow, she finally allowed the tears to fall. And she hoped, oh how she hoped, that Nathaniel had seen and that he knew that his life hadn't been a complete waste.
The St. James Sisters
Each Christmas the five families would join together at Ethan and Mary's house, all the joyous sisters with their husbands and children in tow.
You could see Ethan at the front door, hammering in a loose nail, while Mary instructed him fretfully. She'd scurry into the house, running back with a wreath, and trying to get everything into place before her guests arrived. Amelia would sit beside the window with her nose pressed against the glass, her satin slippers tucked beneath her and her black curls pinned up atop her head, waiting anxiously for her cousins to arrive.
Sara always arrived first, knowing Mary would need some last minute decorating and cooking to be done. While Charlie carried in the sacks of gifts, fumbling to wave to Amelia at the window without dropping a parcel or ribbon, Sara would hurry in to give her sister a hug and help chop up some carrots or light one last candle. Then you'd see the children rush out: rowdy Royston throwing a snowball at his Uncle Ethan's back, Violet joining Amelia inside beside the fire, Thomas carrying the last few boxes his father had forgotten.
After that came the Wests, always in a flurry of shouts and laughter.
Nat and Michael bounded out first, desirous to be free of that cramped carriage and rumbling around in the snow. Then
came
Gail, never quite ready for the holidays and attempting to rewrap a few last minutes gifts before she emerged. She'd yell at the boys before rushing inside to join her sisters, carrying in a bowl of messy cookies she and Michael had baked. Then while Michael and fifteen-year-old Nat pulled out the wheelchair from the back, Ethan would hop inside the carriage and carry out Nathaniel, who thanked his brother-in-law profusely yet screamed at the boys not to damage his chair.
Brook and Emy arrived soon after, their hired hack so old its wheels were nearly falling off. Emy carried in the fig pies and apple tarts, all smiles as she greeted her sisters, before Caroline followed after with a crate of fresh vegetables. Then came Sophia, careful not to let her skirts dampen in the snow and quickly heading inside to join her cousins, followed by Brook and his sacks of and Colleen were always last, making snow angels and letting snowflakes drift onto their tongues before they entered the house.
By the time Sawyer and Nora arrived, carrying in loads of crates with all sorts of souvenirs from their latest journey, Royston, Nat, and Michael would already be engaged in a lengthy snowball fight that Raymond immediately joined. And Josephine, though giving a nod and wave to her female cousins couldn't help but join the boys. But as soon as they caught glimpses of the goodies in Sawyer's crate, carved shoes from Holland, little rag dolls from Mexico, decorated eggs from Russia, all the children would soon be rushing inside again.
One could see that they were a joyous family, to be sure, as they gathered around the fire beside the Christmas tree.
Gifts were thrown across the room, shouts
of gratitude exchanged, hugs received. Mary with her doctor, Sara with her professor, Nora with her diplomat, Emy with her artist, Gail with her invalid, and all the many children scattered about. They'd all overcome separate difficulties in the past, whether infidelity, refusal, superficiality, shyness, or illness, but in the end, they realized, all you need is love to help you get by.
* * *
The End