“I was so happy for your mother when she had you that following Christmas.” Maria’s smile looked forced. “I sent her a gift for you but never heard back. I continued to try reaching out, but Rosa wanted nothing to do with me.”
“I know you always sent us Christmas cards,” Carol said weakly, afraid to mention that her mother always tossed them in the trash. Sometimes unopened.
“Birthday cards, too, although I wasn’t sure if they reached you or not.”
Carol didn’t know what to say. “Well, no matter now.” Maria looked down at the little lamb. “It really is a cute ornament. I think I’d like it to go on the tree this year.”
Victor returned with the ladder and, with Carol’s direction, proceeded to string up the lights, followed by garlands of red wooden beads that looked like ripe cranberries. As she helped him with the lower strands, Carol mulled over what Maria had just told her. Her aunt’s pregnancy coincided with the year Carol had been born. She wondered if her unborn cousin had been a boy or a girl but knew she couldn’t ask. Instead, she focused on decorating the tree. With Victor’s help—and his ability to follow her direction—it didn’t take as long as she expected. Soon the emptied boxes were stacked by the stairs, and the big moment came.
“Look,” Carol said quietly to Victor, pointing toward Mariawho was soundly asleep, the little white lamb still in her good hand.
“Should I plug it in yet?” Victor asked.
“Maybe we should wake her first,” Carol said. “I hate to, but she’d need to go to bed, anyway.”
Victor nodded, then gently nudged Maria. “Hey, beautiful, time to wake up. We’re about to light the tree.”
Maria slowly blinked and came to life as Victor returned to the outlet. “Ready?”
Then just as Maria turned toward the tree, Victor plugged it in. “Ta-da!”
“Oh, my!” Her eyes were as wide as a child’s on Christmas morning. “That is beautiful. The best it’s ever looked.”
Carol was impressed too. “I was worried we put too many things on, but it does look festive.”
Now Maria broke into “O, Christmas Tree,” and Victor and Carol did their best to sing along with her, humming when they couldn’t remember all the words. They broke into laughter partway through.
“Never mind,” Maria said. “Thank you both. It’s lovely.”
“I hate to be a party pooper, but I am seriously tired.” Carol let out a sleepy yawn. “Despite my afternoon nap and the time difference, I don’t think I recovered from spending last night at the airport.”
“I don’t have those excuses, but I’m tired too,” Victor admitted. “Again, thank you, ladies, for allowing me to join you this evening.”
“Thank you for the tree and the dinner!” Maria began to ease herself up from the recliner, and Victor stepped forward to help her. Then Carol escorted Maria to her bedroom as he got his coat and things and exited out the front door.
“Do you need help getting ready for bed?” Carol asked her aunt.
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“But your arm? Won’t undressing and everything be difficult?” She pointed to Maria’s plaid shirt. “Especially with those buttons?”
Maria smiled sheepishly. “Yes, I suppose that could be painful.”
“Plus you need some more ibuprofen,” Carol reminded her.
It took a bit of time, and some careful manipulating, but Maria was finally in her nightgown and ready for bed. “I suppose I did need help,” she confessed after Carol pointed out the pills and a glass of water on her bedside table.
“If you need me, you can just call out.” Carol wasn’t sure she’d be able to hear all the way upstairs. “Or maybe you have a bell? You could ring for me?”
“No, that’s silly. I’ll be fine.” Maria eased herself to the edge of her bed. “You get to sleep, Carol. You must be exhausted.” She smiled wearily. “I hope that bed is comfortable. I replaced the mattress last year, and my sister-in-law claimed it was too soft.” She rolled her eyes. “But then again, Cynthia complains about most everything.”
“Well, I like a soft mattress.” Carol peeled the quilt back even farther so Maria could climb into bed. “I’m sure it’ll be just fine. Good night, Aunt Maria.”
Maria’s face lit up. “Sweet dreams, dear.”
As Carol went up the stairs, she felt bittersweet. She already loved her aunt—loved being in her home and in her world—and that roused some fresh new hostility toward her own mom for how coldhearted she’d been to ignore her older sister their entire adult life. Carol had no idea what had originally caused the estrangement, but as a child, she’d sided with her mom, assuming she had an “evil older sister” who’d done something horrible to make her so bitter. Now Carol realized there were two sides to this story, and she suspected her sympathies would lie with her aunt. But that didn’t feel very good ... especially since Carol had been trying to forgive her mother.
6
