Page 72 of Nineteen Eighty
“My private girl,” Irish Colleen said, smiling. “I’ve always found it so hard to peek into the dark places you go.”
“Oh, they’re pretty dark.” Evangeline laughed.
“I know you’ll be fine, darling.” Irish Colleen patted her arm. “Just fine.”
Colleen struggled to see through the blur of tears and tiny lights. They’d come a long way since the days Mama did her best to see to a happy Christmas for the seven of them. All of them, now, married or on the path. Eleven little grandchildren, the breath of new life and new hope, played in their velvet dresses and mini tuxedos. Saddle shoes slapped against the marble and pitched voices called across the halls as they played their games.
Ten years was both a whisper across time and an eternity.
Ten years ago, Colleen saw no future for her that didn’t involve solving the problems of others. She had no room for love and light.
Ten years ago, Charles was one foot in the grave, throwing his responsibilities to the wind.
Ten years ago, Augustus existed quietly in the corners of their family, looking only to a future away from them, only to be broken by the loss of Maddy.
Ten years ago, Evangeline, the smartest of them all, struggled in school and socially, searching and failing to find her place in the world.
Ten years ago, Maureen’s temperament stifled her and pushed her into places that only caused her more harm.
Ten years ago, Elizabeth was still climbing trees by day and crying herself to sleep by night.
And ten years ago, Maddy was still alive.
Colleen glanced at the clock.
Ahh, but not for long.
“You have that serious look,” Noah said, handing her a glass of wine. “The one that usually involves some level of plotting.”
“Not this time,” Colleen replied, dabbing at her eyes. Charles and Cordelia huddled nearby, laughing. Connor stole a kiss from Elizabeth under the mistletoe, while, feet away, Edouard had a protective hand at Maureen’s waist. Across the room, Augustus practically glowed next to his new wife, Barbara. “Only a bit reflective, that’s all.”
“You always accuse me of being the nostalgic one.”
“That’s because you are!” They both laughed. “But there’s a time and place for it, even for an old pragmatist like me.”
“Old.” Noah wrinkled his nose. “Don’t count us out just yet. We’re still spry spring chickens, lass.”
Colleen reached one hand toward her lower back, wincing. “Speak for yourself, Jameson.”
Noah wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in. “I’ll give it a wee rub later.”
Colleen rested her head against his shoulder. “Keep talking in that terrible Scottish brogue and there might be something in it for you.”
Elizabeth buried her hands in the soapy sink, feeling around for the rogue silverware at the bottom. Beside her, her mother worked at drying and putting away the finished ones. They cleaned up together in silence, waiting as the others brought in more dishes from the dinner.
“I like Johannes,” Irish Colleen ventured.
“He’s perfect for Evie.” Elizabeth felt around until she grabbed a handful of something. “I think they’ll be very happy together.”
“A guess or a premonition?”
“I don’t know, Mama. I haven’t seen anything bad for them. But that doesn’t mean…”
“Yes, darling, I know.” Irish Colleen stopped for a moment, bracing herself against the counter. “You’ve changed, you know.”
Elizabeth answered without looking up. “Have I?”
“I can’t put my finger on it. It could be married life, I suppose.” Irish Colleen turned back to drying, nodding to herself. “Yes, it could be that.”