Carrie King
Lee stopped short as the door closed, his coat still hanging from one arm. “What happened to you, Jamie?”
He sighed and shrugged. “I fell down.”
“Really? That’s your story?” Finishing with his coat, he looked pointedly at the wrapped wrist. “You forget to keep your thumb outside your fist when you threw those punches? I know I’ve told you about that.”
“Lee,” said Amanda. “He didn’t throw any punches. He fell on it after being pushed down. We’ve already talked it through.”
“You were pushed down?” he echoed. “Why?”
“I said,” repeated Amanda, “we’ve already talked it through. I’ll tell you about it later.”
As Carrie hung his coat in the closet, he shot Amanda a disbelieving look, but then relented. Then Lee looked back toward Carrie, and he must have seen something in her face, because he stopped again. “Whoa,” he said quietly. “What’s going on?”
She shook her head, flustered that he’d noticed. “It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing. Is it about Jamie’s — whatever it was?”
Now Carrie understood why Amanda sometimes reacted to his facial expressions the way she did. When they were pointed at you, they had a good bit of intensity.
Carrie took a breath. “Some,” she admitted. “Although not all. We can talk about it later if you want.”
His eyes narrowed. “All right. We will.” Then he turned and shook Joe’s hand before crossing over and greeting Amanda with a kiss. “Hi, beautiful.”
“Hey, big fella.” Their eyes locked and the love was so strong Carrie could feel it from halfway across the room. Even Joe smiled a bit.
Lee turned back around. “What is that fantastic smell?”
“Oh, my goodness!” Carrie cried as she remembered what she’d started when Jamie had gone upstairs. “It’s going to burn!”
Turning, she raced into the kitchen toward the oven. Fortunately, the casserole had only been in there for about five minutes too long; its color had darkened, but she was able to slide a fork in easily and nothing was actually burnt. She’d already chopped the bacon and shredded the cheese, so she should have been able to start work on the topping immediately, but her hands were shaking so badly that she knocked the bowl of cheese over onto the counter. “Oh, damn it!”
Hands slid around her waist. “Calm down and take your time. It’s all right.”
“It’s not!” She pulled free from Joe and began sweeping her hand across the counter, pushing the spilled cheese shreds into a single pile. “I’m lucky I got to it in time, but we’re still at least fifteen or twenty minutes from eating and the emotions out there are already strong and having a bad dinner would only make that worse. I don’t even know if any of them are going to like this, anyway, and —”
“Carrie.” Taking her hands, Joe turned her around. “Marie-Caroline. They’ve already moved on to talking about Christmas decorations, chérie. And even if they don’t like it, no one’s going to shout or curse at you. Not here. I won’t allow it.” His lips brushed her forehead. “Neither will Amanda.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, holding it a moment before she exhaled. “All right. But I do want to finish this as quickly as I can.”
“What can I help you with? Or is there something else you need?”
“No. Well, yes. See to everyone in the living room and let them know how much longer it’s going to be?”
“I can do that.” He gave her another kiss. “Dinner’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”
Forty-five minutes later, Carrie had bitten the inside of her lips so much that they’d begun to bleed. Dinner wasn’t fine. Or, at least, everything felt more than slightly odd. The conversation, while genial, was superficial and full of awkward silences, as if it were being forced. Everyone cleaned their plates, but she’d noticed Amanda hesitating a few times, and she’d been the only one who’d also gone back and finished her salad. Was there some sort of an aftertaste or something?
Lee met her eyes from across the table, and she flicked hers to Amanda briefly, hoping it would throw him off her own thoughts. He answered with half a smile before breaking eye contact, dropping his eyes to the empty plate. “That was great, Carrie. Thank you for making enough for all of us.”
“Of course,” she answered, frustrated at still feeling like she was in the dark. They’d all kept their silence about the exact nature of Lee’s and Amanda’s jobs, after all, until Joe had been forced to explain after Lee had called, speaking in French, across the Thanksgiving break. At least now she knew that Joe knew Lee could speak it, but annoyance still crept across her shoulders. Why didn’t anyone in this family trust her? She knew about secrets. They had a way of coming out at the worst possible time.
Which was why she hated knowing that she and Joe were still keeping one.
After dinner, Lee and Jamie helped her clean up before they settled into the living room. Joe had gotten a fire going, and when she sat on the couch next to him, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close and dropping a kiss at her hairline. “I told you,” he whispered. “Everything was fine.”
Carrie felt herself begin to relax, especially after she glanced over and saw Lee and Amanda sitting close together on the love seat. Whatever the tense undercurrents were, they weren’t occurring between them, or between her and Joe.
They were still definitely there, though, and Jamie seemed to feel them, too. He appeared to be enjoying the fireplace and the ambiance at first, but it wasn’t long before he began to fidget. Finally, he got out the deck of cards, dropping back onto the floor before laying out a game of solitaire. The first two games went fine, but the cards started refusing to line up during the third hand. By the time he finished the fourth, he was actively grimacing, his face pale and his mouth a thin line.
“Hey,” said Joe from beside Carrie. “Your hand hurting again?”
“No.”
“The cards, huh? Why don’t you pick them up and we can do Crazy Eights instead.”
“Whatever.” But he made no move to pick up the cards.
The uncharacteristic response got Carrie’s attention, and her focus sharpened. “Do you want to talk about what’s going on, love?”
“No,” he grumbled. “Since you guys already made up your mind without asking me.”
Amanda leaned forward. “About transferring you to Swanson?”
“Yeah. And selling the house, and Rockville, and changing everything around. I’ll bet you’re going to tell me we’re doing Christmas different, too.”
“Of course we are,” said Amanda slowly. “We’ve already agreed it’ll be over here with Joe and Carrie. I know they’ve told you that. But, ah…” she glanced over at her son’s stepmother. “I had meant to talk to you about the menu anyway. We should plan it.”
“Menu?” asked Jamie. “What menu? We always have the same thing. Roast goose and cranberry sauce and green bean casserole with corn pudding and then homemade pies. None of that’s all that hard. Why can’t we have that?”
“We can,” said Carrie. “I would just need the recipes.”
Amanda shook her head. “It —” her voice caught, but it didn’t quite break. “Mother always made the roast goose, and this year, that’s just…that’s just a little too much. We might make it next year, but for this Christmas I think it’d be better to try something different.”
“A little different?” Jamie sprang to his feet. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Everything’s different now! I know, Phillip and Grandma are dead, and we’re living in these townhouses, but you — you’re not keeping up with anything we used to do! It’s almost like you’re trying to forget them or something!”
Amanda fell back against the cushion, a stricken look on her face.
“Why can’t we do something the way we always have before!” continued Jamie, his voice rising. “Can’t we just be normal for one night and do one thing like decorating the tree all together? Or are you going to tell me you’re doing that differently, too? And when do I get a vote in any of this?”
“Jamie,” said Joe sharply. “Don’t raise your voice at your mother.”
“Why not? Nobody hears me any other way!”
Lee spoke up. “Hey, sport. That’s not true and you know it. Simmer down.”
“Simmer down!” Now Jamie spun toward Lee. “You’re the one who signed the lease and moved into that other townhouse.”
“Now, see here,” Joe broke in. “You know full well we have to make some changes, if nothing else because we’re not at the house in Arlington this year —”
“We could be! Mom hasn’t sold it yet.”
“But they’ve already moved out,” reasoned Joe, “and they moved your things, too. Besides, everything changes over time.”
“Over time!” he yelled. “Not all at once. And not because of this!” He flung his hands out, the gesture encompassing all four of them. “I know, I know, I’ve been staying here, but I have a room over there and I’m supposed to be moving back after the holidays are over except that now I’m going to have to go to a different school where I don’t even know anyone and then I find out you’re changing the menu and maybe other things without even asking me as if we aren’t a family anymore and…and…” he was spluttering now, tears running down his face. “It’s not that I don’t like you, Carrie and Lee, but I just wanted something to be the way it always has been!”
Silence greeted the outburst.
Carrie allowed herself a steadying breath before she spoke. “There’s still a lot that’s the way it always has been, Jamie. Your parents still love you. We’re still having Christmas together as a family, even if it’s in a different place. And I…” she trailed off, turning toward Amanda. “I’m willing to try doing the goose. I’ve done them before, so I know the general idea. I’d just need a list of the spices and trimmings you like. And I could do one of the side dishes, too. Maybe the cranberry sauce. That could help.”
The other woman’s face was pale, but she nodded. “It’s not written out. I’ll see what I can remember and write that down for you.”
“It’s not her recipe!” Jamie interrupted. “It was Grandma’s! She and Aunt Lillian always made the goose, and they argued about it the whole time, but it was always perfect.” He wiped his face angrily with his good hand. “That’s what I want. Grandma’s recipe, and if you were really a part of this family, you’d have already known that’s who always did it!”
The words hit her like a gut punch, and Carrie understood why Amanda had fallen backward earlier. She found herself fighting the same thing, even as Jamie dashed up the stairs.
Joe turned toward his wife. “I’m sorry. I —” but he was clearly distracted by Amanda running up the stairs after Jamie.
“It’s all right,” Carrie choked out as she sought emotional equilibrium. She couldn’t get her voice above a whisper. “This isn’t about the goose. It’s not even about me.”
“That doesn’t excuse his behavior. I’ll talk to him when they come back down.” He glanced over at Lee. “We all will.”
Carrie shook her head. “No. No, this needs to come from you and Amanda.” She took a shaky breath. “Go upstairs. Talk to him there. We’ll wait down here.”
“But —”
“She’s right,” said Lee, his gentle tone contrasting with the fierce emotions in his expression. “This needs to come from you and Amanda, not the four of us. We’ll mind the fire and…oh, I don’t know. But I’m sure there’s something.” He paused, his shaking hands briefly clenching into a fist and then unclenching. “Go on, Joe.”
He stood up slowly and made his way across to the stairs, turning to give them one last unhappy look before following in his ex-wife’s footsteps.
Author’s Note:
- Carrie’s bacon cheddar corn casserole recipe can be found on the Pillsbury web site.