Promises in Paradise. Sandra Kitt
Mostly,” she finally confessed.
There was a silence on the other end and Diane knew what was coming next. She’d hoped to avoid this conversation. Her father would have left it alone, never one to mix it up in her business. But her stepmother, in many ways, knew her better than Adam.
“I know what you’re going through right now. That’s why I want to know if you’ll be coming for Christmas. Bailey is driving me crazy asking every ten minutes when you’ll arrive.”
Diane smiled at the mention and image of her half sister.
“What should I tell her? And your father?”
She sighed. “Eva…I…don’t think I’ll make it down. I’ve waited so long to get a flight it’s going to cost me a fortune. Plus I have a couple of cases I have to keep close tabs on. Maybe I can see everyone for a weekend after the holidays are over. I mean, you live only a couple of hours from me.”
“That certainly hasn’t meant we see you any more frequently. Here’s the thing. We want to see you for the holidays, not after. We want you with us. Unless…are you going to stay with your mother this year?”
Diane shook her head even though Eva couldn’t see the action. “No, I’m not doing that.”
“I understand,” Eva murmured.
Diane knew that she did. Eva was kindness itself and would never dream of saying anything critical about Diane’s natural mother, even though it was common knowledge that Maron Fairchild was a bit of a drama queen.
“Listen. I know this is a difficult time for you, honey. One of the biggest family holidays of the year and you probably only remember Trevor telling you he’s leaving, two days before Christmas.”
Diane’s stomach roiled with exactly that memory…
At the end of a party they’d given. Their apartment had been jumping with wall-to-wall people, music and laughter. Most of their friends, an equal number of colleagues, his and hers, and even a few total strangers who’d somehow crashed. It was almost 2:00 a.m. when she’d closed the door on the last guest. Eva was wrong about one part of the story. Trevor had never told her he was leaving. After making a feeble attempt to clean up some of the debris and leftovers of their party she’d realized that it was suddenly very quiet and Trevor was nowhere to be seen.
“Trevor? Where are you? How about giving me a hand?”
She’d found him in their bedroom. Packing a suitcase.
Diane no longer remembered if he said anything just then or even what she’d said to him. But she would never forget his simple response to her annoyed accusation that he was being childish as he silently picked up the case, calmly walked to a hall closet and put on his coat. Finally, opening the apartment door.
“Goodbye, Diane.”
That was it.
You’ll hear from my lawyer had been posted in an e-mail to her several days later.
The echo of Trevor’s words still felt like a raw open wound. And just this week, a few days before Christmas, it felt worse believing she was destined to relive that awful moment, forever.
“I know you think that’s the reason, and I appreciate your concern, Eva. But the truth is, I do have some patients with serious issues.”
“I believe you but I don’t believe that means you can’t get away to spend Christmas with your family. Come down for just a few days. Leave the day after Christmas if you really have to.”
Diane silently chuckled. “You’re making me feel so guilty.”
“I hope so. You don’t need to be alone. You don’t need to punish yourself that way. Bailey is making all kinds of plans. Hayden keeps hinting at something in particular he’s sure you’re getting him. Adam wants to know if he needs to rent a second Jeep. We invited Simon and I think he’s coming, too.”
“Simon,” she repeated, surprised. “You’ll never see him. He’s going to be breaking hearts all over the island.”
“I know, but I trust your father to keep him in line, if that’s called for. And, honey, I really want to see you. Come home.”
Come home.
“I don’t want to make any promises…” Diane stopped and swallowed, stunned by the sudden lump in her throat and the uncharacteristic urge to cry. She cleared her throat. “Look…I took a moment to call you back so you wouldn’t think I was avoiding you…”
“But you were…”
“There’s a holiday party going on right now in the pediatric ward and I’m late.”
“Then go. Just don’t forget we’re all here for you.”
“Say hi to everybody for me.”
“Take care, sweetie. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Diane ended the call but just sat there. She couldn’t move just then if her life depended on it. She was a pile of tender nerves, confused emotions, convoluted but vivid memories. She felt perilously close to tears and hated that she could lose control while sitting pathetically in her car, in a hospital parking lot, just days before Christmas. Alone.
She muttered an oath and scrambled out of the car, snatching up the bag with the gifts. With her head high and any suspicion of tears swept away by the wind, Diane went to join the festivities in the children’s ward.
“Hey. You made it.”
“Hi, Ron. Sorry I’m so late but the children’s party at the hospital threw me off schedule. You probably thought I was going to stand you up.”
The burly black man, his dark face wreathed in a grin from cheek to cheek, let out a rumble of laughter.
“You could never be too late. I appreciate you could squeeze in some time for us. Come on in and sit a minute. But be careful.” Ron pointed meaningfully to a small bouquet of greenery taped just above his door.
“What is it?” Diane asked.
“Mistletoe. Only but two or three of us know what it is and what it’s for. Hasn’t been used yet.”
“Your idea, I suppose.”
“Hey, it’s a good way to teach about another Christmas tradition, right? It’s not all about the gifts and turkey.”
Diane shook her head wryly and did as she was told, maneuvering around the stacks of boxes, flyers, folders and other sundry this and that that pretty much filled Ron Jeffrey’s office. She sat on an inverted milk carton since the second chair in the office had transit files piled on it. She unwound the long scarf fashionably twisted around her neck and shrugged out of her coat. Ron squeezed his bulk around a corner of the desk and plopped into his chair. He pushed his glasses up his nose while quickly and efficiently checking e-mails on his surely about-to-die aging PC and answering his telephone. He dispensed with two calls and the messages and then pushed back in his chair to regard Diane with a warm smile.
“Thanks for coming, Diane. Hope I didn’t pull you away from anything important.”
“You didn’t. I didn’t need to spend too much time at that party. I nearly overdosed on Christmas candy and hot chocolate.”
Ron laughed again, the sound carrying out his office door and down the halls of the shelter where a valiant attempt had been made to make the place look festive and cheerful.
“Can’t offer you hot chocolate. Milk is too expensive. But the market two blocks away donated a couple of cartons of apple juice for our party. Care to have some? I can put a little fortifier in it, if you want, against the cold,” he said, winking at her.
“Not yet.” She laughed. “I’d like to first take a look at the