He systematically went around the house turning on their Christmas tree lights, and the ones on the mantel wreath – setting the tone for a warm, festive atmosphere. He couldn’t deny it, he hadn’t felt this excited on Christmas morning since he was a child.
Reaching down to rearrange the presents under the tree, Greg guessed that there would be more when his father came over to join them later.
He disarmed their security system and walked to the front door, crossing his fingers on the way out that their paper delivery guy hadn’t decided to sleep in or skip his route that morning. That would certainly put a spanner in the works, and Greg didn’t fancy having to slip out to a newsstand to find a backup paper.
Outside, the air seemed to sparkle, as if he could see individual molecules floating around him. He admired the crisp new covering of the snow and the icy brightness of the sun as it reflected off the smooth surfaces outside.
Hoping against hope thatThe New York Timeswould be lying on the doorstep as usual waiting for him, he gave a sigh of relief when he saw that the blessed paper was exactly where it should be. At his feet, in its protective plastic wrapper, just waiting to be picked up. He would have to remember to give the delivery guy a good tip next time he saw him.
Greg picked up the paper and shook off the snow that had settled on the outer covering overnight. Now that he thought about it, maybe he should run out for another one – might be nice to have an unused ‘souvenir’ copy of that particular edition. Something to show the kids someday.
Greg glanced up at the clouds and he thought of his mother. Oh, how he wished she could be here to see this!
Easing back inside the foyer and shutting the door, Greg took a deep, cleansing breath and thought back to last Christmas. Their last Christmas together as a family.
Even though Cristina had been very ill at that time, due to the robust chemotherapy she’d been getting, she had been feeling very positive.
Two days before Christmas last year, her doctor had told her that it seemed the cancer was responding to treatment. By this time, she had lost her hair, and his normally curvaceous mother had been reduced to a shell of her former self, but she was there, smiling, and as always staying positive about the future. No matter what it might hold.
Greg smiled as he recalled her words. ‘If you live everyday like it’s your last then you have no regrets, because each new dawn is a blessing in itself – a gift you didn’t know you were being given.’
Her smile never even faltered when, a few months later, even after the encouragement from the doctor, a fresh piece of news was conveyed. Yes, while the breast cancer seemed to be controlled, a new mass had been found on a recent chest X-ray. They would have to operate immediately and another round of chemotherapy was ordered, with radiotherapy to follow.
At the time, Greg and Jeff had taken the news badly, but Cristina had simply said: ‘We just have to roll with the punches. It’s just another challenge and we’ll get through it.’
Greg sometimes wondered where his mother found her reserves of strength. A lesser human being would have easily crumbled under the stress and strain, let alone the fear, of dealing with such a disease, a disease seemingly dedicated to morphing and changing into a new type of monster every day. But still Cristina marched on, head held high.
Thinking of her words, Greg smiled as he edged back in the door and shut it behind him. Automatically his thoughts segued to their conversation in Cipriani about her missing bracelet.
After he got through today, it was next on his list of priorities. Hehadto find his mother’s bracelet. It was a family heirloom.
48
Karen awoke and stretched out her arms. A full night’s sleep for what seemed like the first time in ages had done her the world of good and she felt like a new woman today.
Glancing to her left she discovered that Greg was no longer in bed, and felt briefly thankful – she wasn’t in the mood for any Christmas morning nookie.
Karen swallowed hard as she thought about all that had happened recently and she tried to make sense of it.
There was no doubt she had been struggling with the idea of Greg becoming some sort of freelancer and, quite frankly, she would be lying if she tried to say that she was OK with it. There was no point in sugar-coating it any more.
She thought back to the countless times when Greg had said that they were partners, equal in everything. But he took that away from her when he decided to quit his job without even getting her opinion on it. It made her responsible for everything – the finances, the mortgage, everything. And that was not what she’d signed up for.
She had always imagined herself with a certain type of man. A man who was interested in the finer things in life, in being a member of a certain level of society and having possessions that were reflective of his status, not one who was necessarily interested in sitting in Central Park all day long selling photographs to tourists. She thought that she had found the former in Greg, and it frightened her that she might have actually found the latter.
It was fine to frequent galleries if you were there to rub shoulders with people who mattered, and buy conversation pieces that meant you had money, if not taste. But not if you were there hoping to sell your wares so you could pay this month’s rent.
Her iPhone beeped at the very same time the bedroom door opened. Karen jumped. She looked up to see Greg standing in the doorway, a huge smile on his face.
‘You’re up? I was just coming to wake you.’ He crossed the room and, sitting down on the edge of the bed, pulled her towards him in a huge hug. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I think it’s going to be a great day.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ she said, a little taken aback. He seemed weird … almost as if he was ready to jump out of his own skin. It worried her a little.
Breaking apart from him, she swung her legs out of the bed and found her footing on the floor. ‘I’ll be right down. Just give me a moment to get myself together.’
‘Take your time.’ Greg smiled and left the room, allowing Karen to put on her robe and retrieve her phone. Her gazed quickly scanned the message and she smiled, placing it carefully in her pocket.
She brushed her hair and washed her face, taking a moment to rub some Crème de la Mer onto her skin, which was certainly showing the effects of dehydration from her exploits a few nights before.
