Home in Time for Christmas (22 page)

“And you don't have a layer of fat encasing your body,” Jake said.

“All right, gentlemen, good, very good,” Serena said. “You may stop now, before I'm tempted to pull out the violin and start playing. I'm freezing! May we please go in? I do have a lovely Christmas dinner planned—I'd had high hopes that someone would be with me, though I didn't exactly plan on three guests. But, for now, the more the merrier. Come in. We can all catch our breath, and then get started.”

They all filed into the house.

Jake immediately decided to tend the fire, which was burning low. He added logs and stoked it to a tapering burn, then warmed his hands before it. “I'll cut more logs,” he said briefly.

“I'll help—hey, honest, I can cut wood. I did grow up in Massachusetts,” Mark said.

“I can even cut wood, and I'm telling the truth, too,” Melody said, looking at Jake. The way that he looked back at her…her heart jumped. But they weren't alone here.

And the atmosphere was simply tense. They were waiting for sunset.

She was seeing him again—when she thought that she would never do so.

But it was just a tease.

Still, he smiled at her and smoothed back his hair, and she felt the warmth of his smile suffuse her, and it was difficult to rue the fact that she was here.

Except that she was terribly worried about her parents. And Keith, of course, who was left behind to try to keep them sane.

“Oh!” she said. “Serena, I'll be back down in a minute. I have to write my mother….” Mark hadn't made it out the back door yet. “Mark—you got our letters, right?”

“Yes,” he said and looked at Serena.

Melody was too distracted to pay him much attention. She hurried up to Jake's desk and found paper and a pencil and sat down.

She looked at her letter. She started out of Jake's study and down the stairs, and then paused. Serena and Mark were close together, and Mark was speaking earnestly

“I am so sorry. I do believe that it was my interference that caused the three of us to be here—which is not bad, really. It's a delight to again be in your company. But Melody must go home. She has parents.”

“I know, I understand. I barely remember my own parents, but Jake's mother and father were like my own. I was never made to feel like the adopted child. They were so loving. I can only imagine that Melody's family is very much the same,” Serena said. “You mustn't be sorry. I know that you meant well.”

Mark touched her face. “I think that it is very fine to be here. I can chop wood, I swear it. I don't mind hard labor. Of course, I do love to write—fictional stories. But it might be a challenge and something incredible to see the people here, know about life during the war, and write about it.”

“I'm sure you would be a wonderful Patriot!” Serena told him.

Mark was silent again. “My parents are gone, too. And I… I've seen the way Jake and Melody look at one another.”

“You don't know my brother. He will never shirk his duty,” Serena said.

“Exactly, the British will get their hands on him again!” Mark said.

He stepped away suddenly and Melody realized that the back door had opened. “Excuse me, Mark. I thought you were going to come out here and help with the wood,” Jake said.

“On my way.”

“Tea is brewing!” Serena said.

The door shut. Melody ran down the stairs to the fireplace. She found the crack between the bricks and added her new letter to her old letter.

“Read it, Mom, read it, please!” she whispered.

 

“Mother!” Keith exclaimed.

He dropped his control stick.

Desperate times had called for desperate measures. Mona didn't want to go out. She didn't want to go to church. She didn't want to eat—she wasn't putting together a Christmas meal, because Melody had to be home before they had their Christmas meal.

And so he had taken out the Wii.

Mona had roused somewhat, beating him at three games of video tennis. His father had taken them at golf, and Mona had come back in for the boxing—bringing them both down as if she had the power of Muhammad Ali.

It was one way to keep her distracted.

Every once in a while, he would see a faraway look in his mother's eyes, and then there were moments he would see a tear trickle down her cheek. Then George or Keith would hold her, and they'd start a game over again.

George was doing fairly well. Only occasionally would he sit there as if in another world. And he would say, “My baby.”

Technically, I'm the baby!
Keith thought. But, hey, Melody was their girl. He knew only that it was good to keep his parents distracted, because that kept him distracted.

And he was afraid.

Last chance.

Somehow, they all seemed to feel that tonight was their last chance.

That's when he noticed the letter.

And pried it carefully from the stones and handed it to his mother.

Mona cried at first.

The she straightened her shoulders and stiffened and looked up at them both, fire in her eyes.

“Who wants me to beat the sh—sorry, the pants off of them in soccer?”

 

Christmas dinner in 1776 was no easy matter.

The cranberry sauce was made from preserved cranberries, and it had to be stirred and stirred and stirred as it boiled over an open fire. Potatoes had been carefully preserved in the cellar, and the bird—not a wild turkey, but a pheasant—had been a gift from the neighbor who looked after Serena.

Melody was quietly delighted that the bird had been plucked the day before. She wasn't at all sure that she'd have done well being a feather plucker. Nor did she think she would have done a decent job at the beheading part of the whole thing, either.

There were also vegetables to be boiled-greens kept in the root cellar. Amazingly, despite the hardships of war and the New England winter, Serena was able to put together an amazing feast.

They all worked to make it happen.

At about one, they came around the dining-room table. Jake said grace, thanking God for life and sustenance, and those in life who made it all worth living.

Serena, accepting a plate of meat after Jake carved, smiled. “I do know that while this is certainly distressing for your family, I must admit, it's rather nice for me.”

Mark reached across the table, taking her hand. “It's rather nice for all of us.”

“Jake is never here. Not since the war,” Serena said.

“If I were here, I'd always be here,” Mark said.

“Are there glasses? I think we forgot to put them out. And Serena has that lovely bottle of wine for all to share,” Melody said, rising.

In any other circumstance, she'd be terribly tempted to yell at Mark and Serena.

Get a room, will you!

But this was 1776, and Serena was Jake's sister.

She smiled, heading into the kitchen for the glasses. Keith, now…Keith had handed her right over. But then, Keith had gotten to know Jake. He had believed in him, long before she had. Keith lived in the twenty-first century.

And Keith knew that she had fallen in love with Jake.

As she reached for the glasses, Jake joined her in the kitchen. He opened his mouth, as if he would say something light.

She did the same.

But neither of them spoke.

She rushed into his arms, and her lips met his, and she pressed against him as if she could crawl beneath his skin, and she kissed him as if she might never kiss him again.

He pulled away from her, searching her eyes, cradling
the sides of her head with both hands. “Melody…your family. They love you so.”

“I know.”

He pulled her close to him again. He held her, and held her.

They kissed again, trembling, and then just stood holding each other tight.

“Do you need help in there?” Mark called.

Smiling ruefully, they pulled away from one another and retrieved the glasses. At the table, Mark had uncorked the bottle, and was ready to pour.

They finished dinner and cleaned up.

Around the fire in the parlor, Jake picked up his violin and handed his guitar to his sister. They played old tunes, entertaining everyone. Mark admitted that although he thought he was a pretty decent writer, he'd never learned to play an instrument.

“Too many diversions,” Jake said.

“I guess.”

“Come over here,” Serena told him. “I'll show you.”

Jake went up the stairs, mumbling something about his office.

Melody followed him. He was waiting for her. They didn't go into his office; they went into his room. They held one another, and watched the sun begin its descent.

 

“It's nearly…sunset,” Mona said.

“It is, Mom. But it's cold outside. We have a few minutes,” Keith said.

“I'm going to get the machines going,” George said.

“Dad, they're not leaving from here, they're coming here,” Keith reminded him.

“Doesn't matter. I want it to be optimum for those two to get back here,” George said.

“The rose petals! I must have the rose petals!” Mona said. “I want them to surround the well, I want to see them fly in the air, and fall in the snow. I want everything as Serena had it—when she saved her brother's life!”

“All right,” Keith said. “We'll get started then.”

He and his father dragged out the wave machines, and George turned them on. Mona took the roses, the gift from the priest, and walked around the circumference of the machines and the well. She chanted as she did so.

Or she prayed.

Keith wasn't sure.

Maybe she tried a bit of both.

Then it was done. The machines hummed.

And the roses were strewn.

So beautiful against the diamond glitter of the snow.

Keith manned the one machine while his father stood by the other.

Mona waited, holding a bowl with the remaining rose petals.

 

“It's time!”

Serena called them softly from the foot of the stairs.

Melody couldn't stand it; she clung to Jake.

But then, it was she who released him. She had to
go home. And she understood that he felt that he had to stay.

She kissed him one last time. Saying nothing, she turned and hurried down the stairs. Mark stood just behind Serena. They were both grave.

“Let's get done with the hugging and kissing now,” Mark said brusquely. “Once we're out there now, we have to move, and we have to be right, and there can be no interference, none at all.”

“Right,” Melody said.

So she hugged Serena fiercely, and they smiled at one another.

They could have been great friends.

Then, she turned to Jake. They stared at each other. She was about to take a step toward him when she heard Mark groan.

“Not him. Hug and kiss me goodbye,” he said.

“Look,” Jake said. “We've been through this. It's a noble sacrifice—”

“Thank you, brother!” Serena said. “You consider a life with me—a
sacrifice?
”

“Serena! I didn't mean it that way at all!” Jake protested. “He just—he comes from a different time. He doesn't understood what led up to the war, he…he has cable television, for God's sake.”

“But I'd rather have Serena,” Mark said. He looked at Melody. “Hey, kid, here's looking at you—except that you never loved me, and you loved him right off the bat, and that's all right, I really understand. I understand because the minute I set eyes on Serena…oh, and don't worry, Jake, you don't have to do any kind of fatherly thing and beat me to a pulp over her. We'll take it slow.
I know it's 1776, and I'd never dishonor her or you in any way, but we are going to get married.”

“The sun is starting to fall,” Serena said.

Jake turned to his sister. “Serena, is this a fantastic act? What if I want to stay? What if I am determined to do my part in this war?”

Serena smiled and hugged him. “I'm not a good actress at all. I've never done well with lying. I know that you are very much in love with Melody, who loves you very much in return. Why are we questioning any of this? We have it right now. And the sun is setting! This is it! Last chance.”

Jake took his sister into his arms, drawing her close. “Serena…”

“You won't be deserting me. Mark needs me. And I want him. And I want you to be happy. I know that you want me to be happy, and Melody wants Mark to be happy, right?”

“Of course. Of course, Mark. But I would never want my happiness to be at any expense to you!”

“Wonderful. Now I'm an expense,” Serena said.

“No, no, no, I didn't mean that!” Melody protested.

“I know you didn't,” Serena assured her.

Melody smiled. “It's going to kill Jake to leave you,” she whispered.

Serena looked at them both. “No, I think we will all be fine. Because what we wish for is the health and happiness of those we love, no matter where they may be. Now this is it, no changing minds, no interference, nothing. Drink those potions, you two.”

Jake and Melody looked at one another. She stared into his eyes.