The Book of Someday Part 25

It is Christmas Eve-chilly in the attic. In spite of that, Livvi is being slow in descending the attic ladder, taking as long as possible before arriving at the second floor landing. She wants to delay the moment that will reveal what's waiting for her on the ground floor of this house. At the bottom of the stairs.

Savoring the moment just before discovering a surprise, and being certain that the surprise will be something delightful, chosen especially for her, is new to Livvi. And yet, like so much else that has happened to her in this house, the sensation seems faintly familiar. Like something she once experienced. Long ago. In a dream.

There is stability here, and serenity. Livvi has been welcomed with open arms. It's as if after all these years she is in the home-in the peace and joy-that was Olivia's heart's desire.

Every morning since coming to this lovely old house on Long Island where David's grandmother lives, around nine o'clock Livvi has found a gift waiting at the bottom of the stairs. On the first morning, the day Livvi attended the Manhattan Literary Luncheon, the gift was an antique book of poetry. A slender volume holding the faded scent of cigar smoke and gardenias. It had as its bookmark a flattened length of gold braid-a delicate artifact that might have once graced a debutante's gown or the uniform of a das.h.i.+ng young naval officer. On another morning, the surprise had been a nosegay of holly and pepper berries, tied with a red ribbon. Yesterday, it was a glossy brown paper bag no larger than a drinking gla.s.s. Filled to the brim with hand-made caramels. Rich and mellow with sugar and b.u.t.ter, and sparkling with the taste of sea salt.

The gifts are from David. All of them small and thoughtful. And, each in its own way, perfect. He has never mentioned that he is their giver. And Livvi, although she has expressed how charmed she is by them, has never directly acknowledged that she knows who they're from. The giving and the receiving has become a sort of innocent flirtation. And the whimsical manner in which the gifts arrive, seeming to appear out of nowhere, at the bottom of the stairs, like magic, has created a wonderful antic.i.p.ation in Livvi. An enticing sense of possibility.

Which is why, now, as she's seeing that there's absolutely nothing waiting for her, she's feeling a twinge of disappointment. She wasn't ready-just yet-to lose the pleasure of those small surprises.

Livvi is holding a heavy lace tablecloth that she has just taken out of the attic. As she's starting down the stairs, she's wis.h.i.+ng that David's delightful gifts and her fun in discovering them could have gone on a little longer. And she's wondering if there's some particular reason that David chose today as the end-point for their lighthearted version of hide-and-seek.

Several moments pa.s.s before Livvi comes back to reality and realizes she isn't alone anymore.

David has just appeared at the foot of the stairs. Holding a little white dog in his arms.

The dog is young and bright-eyed, wearing a garland of miniature silver bells around its neck. And David is telling Livvi: "This is your Christmas present."

David seems to immediately understand the wonderment in Livvi. The unspoken question that's asking, "How did you know?"

And he's saying: "One day, right after we'd closed the publis.h.i.+ng deal on your book, we were at lunch and you mentioned that when you were a little girl you'd always dreamed of having a dog. A small white one, with a curly tail."

Livvi has now reached the bottom of the stairs-David is putting the dog into her arms. "This one doesn't have a curly tail but-"

"She's exactly what I wanted."

Livvi is overcome with happiness. Amazed by this gift-and its simple perfection.

It takes Livvi a moment before she can find her voice and ask: "What's her name?"

"She belonged to a guy in our office who just found out he landed a job in France. He only had her for a couple of days. She doesn't have a name yet."

"I think I'll call her Granger," Livvi says. "It's the name of someone...something...that was very special to me."

"A man?" David asks.

"No, a woman," Livvi explains. "A woman I didn't know, but dearly loved."

Livvi is looking into David's eyes. And at first, what she's seeing is fascination, as if he's intrigued by the things she's just said. Then she sees something else-centered exclusively on her. Something steady and pure. Like the glow from a sea of freshly lit candles.

It's as if she's being shown a beautiful piece of heaven.

Livvi's voice is soft, incredulous. "That lunch...when I told you about wanting a dog...that was more than two years ago. How could you have remembered? For all this time...?"

David's tone is as soft as Livvi's, and as full of wonder. "There was no way I could forget. I spend every day thinking about you."

All there is in Livvi is awed stillness. As if she is waking up in the dawn of an unexpected new world.

David seems worried by her silence-nervous that he's said too much.

Livvi has no words-only sensation-the sudden desire to be kissed by David. And to touch him.

But the moment is pa.s.sing; the silence is going on too long. David is filling it with small talk. "It's almost nine, you're dressed like you're headed out for a run. I thought you always ran first thing in the morning."

The s.h.i.+ft in the mood is both a relief and a letdown. Livvi's not sure where they should go from here-isn't sure where she wants to go. She's trying to figure out what it was that just happened between them. Was the expression in David's eyes, and her reaction to it, something real? Or something she simply imagined?

While she's working to put the pieces of this puzzle together, she's telling David: "I was out the door and running before dawn, I just haven't had time to change. I've been busy helping your grandmother get ready for tonight."

"Tonight will be unforgettable. Grandma's Christmas Eve dinner is always the best part of the holidays." David seems perfectly content to keep things light and conversational. He's picking up the lace tablecloth from the spot on the floor where Livvi dropped it in her excitement over the dog. "So the old girl has you bringing the lace tablecloth down from the attic, huh? Has she put you to work polis.h.i.+ng her great-grandmother's silver too?"

"I did that right before I went up to the attic..." Livvi's voice has trailed off. She's wondering if, in what happened between them a few seconds ago, David really was offering her more than simple friends.h.i.+p. And she's being startled by the discovery that some part of her may be open to that offer.

"Fetching the tablecloth and polis.h.i.+ng great-great-grandmother's silver...that's quite an honor. Grandma is obviously crazy about you. Those are ch.o.r.es she usually reserves for family."

The reference to family s.h.i.+fts Livvi's thoughts to Andrew. And to the awful afternoon in his parents' driveway. To his wife, and the way in which Andrew is shackled to her. It's making Livvi think about how sweet it would be. Being with a man available to love and be loved-without guilt or shame. A man who would truly include her as part of his family.

And in thinking about family, Livvi is thinking about the only relative she has. Her father. She's thinking about the fact that he's dying, that she'll soon be an orphan.

And in this same moment, David is saying: "Arrange the place cards at dinner tonight so you're sitting next to me."

The kitchen of David's grandmother's house is bathed in a clear winter's light, fragrant with the scent of rosemary and red wine. David has been gone for an hour or so. And Livvi is helping his grandmother, Evelyn, prepare for tonight's Christmas Eve dinner.

Evelyn is at the old-fas.h.i.+oned stove-adding the rosemary and the wine to a beef bourguignon already savory with pearl onions, and mushrooms, and fresh garlic.

Evelyn's eyes are a pale blue-gray. Her smile is radiant. Her skin, lined and thinning, pearly with age. She is tiny, barely five feet tall. Her hair is silver-white-and she is beautiful. And in the time that Livvi has been in her house, she has made Livvi feel beautiful too. Because she has made Livvi feel loved.

Evelyn is glancing up at Livvi, asking: "How are you doing, sweet girl?"

"I'm getting there," Livvi tells her. "But I don't understand why it's taking so long." She's methodically chopping carrots into inch-long pieces, each one diagonally cut at the top and bottom-doing her best to match the sample Evelyn has left on the cutting board.

"Well, I'd say you're doing just fine." Evelyn is at Livvi's side now, her hand closing over Livvi's, adjusting Livvi's grasp on the knife. Guiding it in a flowing motion that's sectioning the carrot into picture-perfect pieces. Evelyn's touch is warm-filled with affection.

And Livvi is imagining, just for a minute, that she belongs here. At Evelyn's side. Resting in her kindness. Wrapped in her caring.

For an instant, Livvi is able to capture the sublime feeling of being the daughter of a wise and loving mother.

But she can't hold onto it. There's too much going on. The puppy, Granger, is bounding in circles around Livvi's legs-and darting across the room to nuzzle Evelyn's fingertips. While Evelyn is saying: "It's nice to have new life in the house, especially at this time of year."

Then she's telling Livvi: "I'm glad you decided to stay with us for Christmas."

"Are you sure I haven't worn out my welcome?" Livvi asks. "I honestly thought I'd only be here for a couple of days, only as long as it took to go to the Literary Luncheon and have a quick meeting with my editor, but-"

"-but every day, either David or I have managed to find a way to keep you from leaving." Evelyn has slipped her arm around Livvi and is giving her a quick hug. "I've loved having you here with me."

There's a hint of wistfulness in Evelyn's voice when she adds: "That's one of the downsides of old age, it can get a little bit lonely."

Livvi is surprised by this. "But David is in and out of here all day. He has coffee with you every morning."

Evelyn's laugh is merry, spontaneous. "He's here because you're here, Livvi. David is a devoted grandson but his life is in the city. The only reason he's twenty minutes away, suddenly busy fixing up that old beach cottage, is because he wants to be near you. He inherited that place from a miserable old aunt who pa.s.sed away years ago-this is the first time he's set foot in it since her funeral."

Evelyn is moving away from Livvi, as if she wants to observe Livvi's reaction while she's saying: "David is in love with you. You do know that, don't you?"

There's a flutter in Livvi. For a moment she isn't in the kitchen anymore. She's at the bottom of the stairs hearing David's voice-"I spend my life thinking about you." And she's feeling that unexpected stir of desire. The desire to be kissed by him, and to touch him.

"Livvi? Did you hear what I said?" Evelyn asks.

Livvi nods. She has gone to sit at the kitchen table and is running her hand over its surface-wood worn smooth by the generations who have gathered around it to rejoice. And to grieve. To grow up and to grow old.

The knowledge that she may one day be invited into this house as part of this family and the feeling that she has no right to that invitation are making Livvi heartsick. As she's explaining to Evelyn: "There's someone else."

Evelyn takes the chair beside Livvi's and says: "Earlier this week when you asked if it was all right to have a package delivered to you at this address, did that have anything to do with the someone else?"

"In a way. He has a little girl, Grace. Her nanny sent me a text that Grace wanted to mail me a Christmas present."

The thought of Grace, and of how much Livvi loves her, and of how far away she is, is bringing tears to Livvi's eyes.

"This man, Grace's father," Evelyn says. "Do you love him?"

"I'm not sure. I used to. Without question. But I haven't loved him that way for a while. The way I love him now is different. It's complicated."

"Why are the two of you not together at Christmas?"

"He's in Bermuda with his family. He's still married, and his wife is very upset. He doesn't live with her but..."

Livvi isn't sure how to finish-there seems to be no way to tell the story and have it make any sense.

"I've heard you at night, crying out in your sleep," Evelyn says. "Is he the reason?"

Livvi shakes her head. "No, it's a nightmare I have sometimes. I see a woman with a silver gown and dark hair. And red, red lipstick. There's something horrifying about her and I don't know what it is."

Granger, the little dog, has jumped into Livvi's lap and is laying his head on Livvi's arm while Evelyn is saying: "I can only guess the nightmares you must have lived through."

Evelyn sees Livvi's surprised look and tells her: "I read your book. I'm eighty-nine, and I've figured out some things along the way. The pain, the level of loss in that book, was too raw. Too clear. It couldn't have simply been imagined, you had to have lived it."

Evelyn takes Livvi's hands in hers and holds them tightly. "It's such a terrible thing. No one deserves such a beginning."

"And I can't get away from it," Livvi says. "I feel like there's a part of me that's broken, and ugly, because of where I came from. Because of the things I learned there."

Livvi is aching as she's asking: "Evelyn, how does G.o.d decide? How does he choose who to bless and who to punish? Why did he say to your children, 'I want you to be born into light and love,' and say to me, 'For you, I want darkness. I want your mother to run away and never look back. For you, I want pain you'll never forget.'"

Evelyn puts her arms around Livvi and holds her. "No one knows the answer to that question. But I suspect that G.o.d, and the lives we're born into, are far more complicated than we can understand. Perhaps this life isn't what we think it is. Maybe it doesn't begin with our birth and end with our death. Maybe it's only a fraction of some larger story. And it doesn't contain enough information for us to really know, for sure, about G.o.d's love, or G.o.d's fairness."

Evelyn again takes Livvi's hand. "Deciding what sort of story is being told by our time on earth might be like looking at a few seconds of an intricately made movie. And a.s.suming we know all there is to know from having glimpsed only that tiny snippet. It's entirely possible we were somewhere else before we were born, and we'll be somewhere else after we die. And what appears to be senseless and unfair to us now may, in a larger context, take on quite a different meaning."

Evelyn stops and wipes away Livvi's tears. "No matter how painful your life has been, you have the choice to learn from your past and then leave it. You have the choice. Every day. To love and be loved. To find your purpose. To work and to give. And to shape your world into something that's quite remarkable."

The kiss that Evelyn places on Livvi's cheek is light and quick. "I've been watching you carefully in the time you've been here-and I know the person you are. You didn't come away from your beginnings broken, or ugly. Miraculously...you've come away strong and filled with love. Find your purpose, Livvi. Use the power of your love to fulfill it."

After a while, when there doesn't seem to be anything more to say, Evelyn leaves and goes into the dining room to arrange the place cards for Christmas Eve dinner. Livvi stays at the kitchen table. Thinking about the things that Evelyn has told her. Thinking about loving and being loved. About Andrew. And Grace. She's thinking about the past, and about the future. And she's thinking about David.

Being a part of David's family Christmas Eve dinner has been like stepping into a fantasy for Livvi. Every moment of it could have been taken from a greeting card. The long dining room table with its white lace cloth and s.h.i.+ning silver. The centerpiece of scarlet roses. The heirloom wine gla.s.ses, artfully mismatched, sparkling in the light of ivory-colored candles. The dinner-Evelyn's beef bourguignon and a b.u.t.ter lettuce salad scattered with candied walnuts and pomegranate seeds. The dessert-little, sugar-frosted ginger cakes.

All night long-the laughter of a big, close-knit family. Countless bits of conversation beginning with the phrase "Remember the fun we had when..." And the members of this same lovely family raising their gla.s.ses in a toast: "To Livvi, welcome!"

And as dinner was ending, there was Livvi catching sight of David's smile-and experiencing a happiness that could hardly be contained.

It's the same happiness that Livvi is experiencing now, when dinner is over, and she and David and his family are in Evelyn's living room, decorating the Christmas tree that's just been brought in from the outside. A tree that is snow-dusted and cold-filling the air with the smell of fresh pine.

David's mother, a woman with violet-colored eyes and a charming openness, is layering the tree with garlands of golden ribbon while she's saying: "Having you with us tonight is a treat. I hope you come back often."

David's sister, a pretty, young wife and mother, is calling out: "If you're in the city next week, Livvi, and in the mood to go shopping, let me know. I'll show you where all the good sales are."

David's father, affable and ruddy-faced, is near the fireplace with two of David's uncles-in a lively discussion about politics and sports. Several of David's aunts are nearby, exchanging pictures of children and grandchildren.

David is in a circle of cousins playing a boisterous game of Trivial Pursuit, talking about getting together in Manhattan tomorrow for their long-standing Christmas tradition, brunch at the Plaza and then ice skating in Central Park.

Evelyn, as she's pa.s.sing Livvi, is whispering: "Merry Christmas, sweet girl."

I'm in a dream, Livvi is thinking. And I don't ever want to wake up.

But someone is tapping on her shoulder. Calling her away from the dream and back to reality. One of David's nephews, a bashful middle-schooler, is informing Livvi: "There's a person at the front door asking for you."

While she's walking toward the door, Livvi is a.s.suming this must be a mistake. She doesn't know anyone on Long Island other than the people in this house, and no one outside of this house knows her.

But then.

Livvi sees who it is that's waiting for her. And she is flabbergasted.

It's Bree, Grace's nanny. Saying: "I wanted to make sure this was the right place."

Livvi has no idea what Bree is talking about-but she's noticing that a cab is idling in the driveway.

"I wanted to make sure this was the right address." Bree glances at the cab then back at Livvi. "It's been h.e.l.l. Andrew brought up the divorce the minute we got to Bermuda. Kayla has been screaming at him ever since."

Bree glances at the cab again. "This is my Christmas present to Grace."

Livvi's heart leaps. "Grace is here?"

"Yeah. We hopped a ride on the family plane. I'm kind of dating the pilot. It was like a two-hour flight. No big deal."

"And all of this was okay with Andrew? And Grace's mother?"

"Actually, I didn't tell anybody we were coming."