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The memory came at her unexpectedly. She stared at herself in the mirror, seeing the glitter of tears in her eyes, but, surprisingly, she didnt feel a drenching wave of sadness.
She felt . . . loss, perhaps. Or a quiet sorrow at what might have been.
"Oh, Matt," she sighed, shaking her head.
He was gone, and he wasnt coming back. For weeks shed put off thinking about that, realizing the truth of it. But now, standing here in front of the mirror, staring into her own eyes, she couldnt deny it any longer.
He was gone, and he wasnt coming back.
It was strange, really, how the realization made her feel. She should have been crushed, desperate. Two years ago—hell, two months ago—she would have been.
But somehow, sometime, in the past weeks shed grown up. It still hurt. She still missed him—she probably always would. But she could live with her past now, and go on. It wasnt like before, with Stephen. Then shed been sixteen and unable to face reality. Now she was older, wiser, and she was strong enough to survive. She didnt need Mad Dog. She loved him, missed him sometimes so much she ached for him. But she didnt need him.
Hed taught her to say good-bye. She turned away from the mirror and slipped out of her baggy brown dress. Tossing it aside, she put on the glorious Christmas dress and tied the wide white ribbon around her waist, cinching it tight. The velvet bodice fell in loose, blousy waves over her breasts and tucked into her waist, then cascaded to the floor in undulating sheets of fabric.
She quickly brushed the curly hair away from her face and tied it at her neck with Jakes frayed pink ribbon. She gave her cheeks a quick pinch for color, then hurried down the stairs.
The kitchen was filled with holiday scents—sugar-glazed ham, spiced apple cider, and pecan pie. She walked through the room, glancing quickly at the jams, jellies, pickles, potatoes, vegetables, and breads that sat crowded together in the center of the table.
Clasping her hands together, she strolled to the parlor to wait for Jake. The small room was wreathed in flickering light and draped in evergreen. In the corner, on a red-cloth covered table, sat the small Christmas tree, its boughs weighted down with spun-glass angels, gilded apples, glazed cherries, sugar plums, and twinkling with candlelight. Behind it, the window rippled with reflections.
"Hi, Mariah. "
She turned and saw Jake standing in the doorway. He was wearing a pair of Rasss old dress trousers, altered to fit him, and a stark white button-up shirt with black suspenders. A poorly knotted necktie hung at an odd angle from his collar. His coppery hair was slicked back from his forehead, and lay curled in an uncontrollable flip beneath his ears.
Her heart squeezed at the sight of him. He looked so handsome and grown-up and uncertain, standing there, awaiting her approval, with the tiny razor nicks on his cheeks.
"You look handsome. "
He beamed at her. "So do you. "
He walked up to her, smiling. She looped her arm through his and drew him close.
Wordlessly they crossed the room and stared out the window, waiting. Always waiting.
Mariah felt him lean slightly toward her, and she understood. They were doing everything right this year, trying hard, but the ghosts of Christmases past were all around them, clustered in every room, lingering in every activity. This was the first Christmas without parents for both of them, and everything they did hurt.
Mariah stared through the glass, seeing but not seeing the glowing circlets of ligh
t cast against the pane by the trees candles. Outside, the farm was a series of shadowy shapes, without form or substance. Moonlight streamed through the leafless limbs of a hundred skeletal apple trees, turning the snowy landscape into a powdery lake of crushed diamonds. The world was cold and still.
"He isnt coming back. " Mariah said the words softly, wishing she could take away the hurt theyd cause.
Jake sighed. "Yeah, I know that. "
"Im glad youre here, Jake," she said quietly, feeling a tiny catch in her heart.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah, me, too. "
The moment started to spiral into a familiar, quiet sadness, but Mariah refused to let it. She forced a smile and cleared her throat. "Well, how about we eat some f of that fabulous Christmas supper?"
He turned to her, slowly pulling his arm away from her. "I have a present for you first. "
She glanced at the tree. "You do?"
"Its not there. Come on. " He led her through the well-lit house and onto the darkened porch. Beyond, the world was a midnight blue smear of shapes and forms, all of it limned by the golden-white light of a full winter moon.
He took her arm and led her down the creaking steps. She stepped carefully into the crusty, ankle-deep snow. The cold air stung her lungs and brought tears to her eyes.
