“Take your time. That fire’ll keep for a bit.”
Just the same, Carol hurried. The guest bedroom was charming with its white metal headboard and patchwork quilt in varying shades of sage green and lavender. As she sat in an old oak rocker and tugged the warm clothing over her chilled limbs, she checked out the room more. The celery-green walls were decorated with handsome pastoral prints of sheep, pastures, and peaceful landscapes. The braided rug gave warmth to the golden hardwood floors, and the antique oak armoire, topped with a large, white pitcher of dried lavender, added even more personality. Old-fashioned perhaps, but this motif worked nicely with the old farmhouse. It didn’t feel overdone or flashy like Carol’s mother liked to decorate. Aunt Maria had good taste.
Carol glanced at her image in the mirror above the dresser. Maria’s clothes were a bit loose but not bad. She nosed around the other upstairs rooms, hoping there would be a bathroom, and was rewarded with a big bathroom that was just as handsome as the guest bedroom. The sage-and-lavender theme continued. Only instead of green, its walls were a very pale shade of lavender. The white claw-foot tub and cushy towels were very inviting! Even if she was only here overnight, it would be an enjoyable visit.
She rushed back downstairs and found her aunt in the kitchen, struggling to fill a coffee carafe. Carol intervened. “Let me get that going for you.”
“Thanks.” Maria stepped back. “There are coffee beans inthat glass jar there and filters in the top drawer. Do you know how to use a grinder?”
“You bet. I always grind my own beans too.”
“Don used to say the only good coffee must be made within five minutes of grinding.”
“Smart man.”
“Looks like those clothes are working for you,” Maria observed from where she’d seated herself at the kitchen table.
“You were right. We are nearly the same size.” Carol paused as she ran the grinder. “By the way, I have to compliment you on your decor upstairs—and all throughout your house, for that matter. I really like your taste.” As she filled the filter and got the coffee brewing, she told Maria about her job in interior design. “I’ve mostly been doing staging though. Not exactly the career I’d hoped for, but I guess I’m paying my dues.” She told her a bit about all the holiday decorating she’d been doing the past couple of months. “That’s one reason I wanted to go to the Bahamas,” she confessed. “To escape all the ‘deck the halls fa la la.’ I guess I’m not a real fan of Christmas. Never have been.”
“But you’re a Christmas baby.” Maria’s brow creased. “Though maybe that makes some sense then. Anyway, that’s very interesting that you got a degree in interior design.” Her tone sounded a bit dreamy. “I always loved interior decorating too. If I’d gone on to get a degree, I might’ve pursued something like that. Don used to make fun of me. He’d say that he couldn’t be gone from the house for more than a day out of fear that I’d have our house rearranged and redone before he got back.” She chuckled. “But at least I’m a DIY gal. I never pay anyone for something I can do myself.”
“Well, you’ve done a good job,” Carol said as she wiped some stray coffee grounds from the obviously upgraded marble countertop. “Now point me to the firewood.”
“First I’ll point you to my snow boots.” Maria stood slowly, wincing in pain.
“Are you okay?”
“Well, it definitely hurts. I have an elastic wrap I might let you help me with after you get the wood in.”
“Hopefully I can still remember the first aid class I took in college.”
Maria led the way to a back porch and pointed to several pairs of boots lined up by a worn wooden bench. “Take your pick.”
“These look warm.” Carol picked up fleece-lined boots and then sat on the bench to put them on. “Since your slippers fit perfectly, I’m guessing these will too.”
“And get yourself a parka,” Maria nodded to a row of coats hanging on hooks. “That green one with the hood is the warmest. Just make sure to zip it up before you go out.” She sighed. “I’m sure glad you can help me, Carol. I’ve always been so independent. Notorious for not allowing anyone to help me. Even Don.” She looked down at her arm glumly. “Maybe the good Lord is teaching me a lesson, forcing me into an uncomfortable situation and making me needy.”
Carol wanted to echo “me too.” It felt possible that the good Lord was trying to teach her a lesson about neediness too. It was hard to admit it, even to herself, but this longing deep within her felt like a cry for family.
4
Carol didn’t have time to check the airlines until she got the firewood inside, had served and cleaned up a late breakfast, and wrapped her aunt’s arm securely. But flights were still canceled and, according to the weather channels, the whole country was snarled up with the “most widespread winter storm the country has seen in decades.” Whatever that meant.
“How’s your arm feeling now?” Carol asked as she encouraged her aunt to rest with her ice pack. She was worried her aunt wasn’t taking her injury seriously enough. “You still don’t think it needs an X-ray? I’m no expert, but I do think it could be broken. I could drive us—”
“Thanks. But we don’t need to go driving around in this blizzard,” Maria said firmly—and not for the first time. “Whatever is wrong with my arm will still be going on when the storm lets up. I’m in no danger.”
“I suppose driving would put us both in danger...” Carol thought of the cars strewn along the highway earlier that morning. “Especially since I’m not comfortable in these driving conditions.” She looked at her aunt, who was holding her arm very gingerly. “How about some more ibuprofen? It’s been almost four hours. And maybe some fresh ice?”
Maria conceded to both, and Carol scurried around playing nurse. She didn’t mind helping her aunt. In fact, it was kind of nice to be needed like this. Part of her was even relieved that flights weren’t going out yet. And she wondered what it would be like to spend Christmas here.
After Maria had fresh ice and ibuprofen as well as a mug of spice tea, Carol asked more about the fall that morning.
“Silly me.” Maria shook her head. “I was feeling guilty for not having any Christmas decorations up yet, especially since the Clarksons—that’s Victor’s family—are coming here on Christmas Eve. As well as some neighbors. I’m known for having the place decked to the nines, but I’m on slow speed this year.” She paused to sip her tea. “So, anyway, I forced myself to go up to the attic this morning. That’s where I keep all my Christmas decor. It’s all boxed and sorted and actually makes the process of decorating fairly simple. Well, usually. I started with the top shelf, which requires my stepladder. I had a box of garlands and lights in my hands. Not heavy, mind you. I like to swag them around banisters and doorways and over the porch railing. It’s very pretty in the snow. Well, not in a blizzard. But it would be after it all stops and the world out there is blanketed in white.” She glanced out the window, then pursed her lips. “It will quit ... eventually.”
Carol blew the top of the tea in her mug. It was some kind of cinnamon blend and warmed her nicely.
“Anyway, getting the swags up seemed like a festive way to start my decorating. I planned to come down and put some holiday music on and get into the spirit. So go the plans of mice and men.” She wrinkled her nose. “I had the box balanced in one hand and was going down the ladder in a way I thought was safe, but I miscounted my steps and—kaboom—down I went. I tried to catch myself, and I suppose my arm got mangled up beneath me somehow.”
