Songs of Christmas Read Online Free Page B

perfectly truthful. But she had long since revised—and even reversed—that opinion. Now she actually envied his ever-sunny disposition. You could drop him in the middle of the Sahara, and he’d praise the sand dunes and sunshine.
    Lillian opened her napkin and spread it on her lap. It was going to be a long and trying day for her, but she would put a good face on it. For Ezra’s sake and for her family’s. After all, it was a holiday. She knew she should be thankful just to be celebrating another one, even if she didn’t feel particularly grateful right now. She would be happy when it was over and they were home again, just the two of them, in the quiet sanctuary of their own home. For which she was most sincerely thankful.
    Dear God, thank you for my mobility, the invitation to join this party—noisy and confused as it is—and sharing this meal today. Thank you for dear Ezra. I don’t know how he puts up with me. No one else will. And thank you most of all for our home and independence. I pray that we may spend the rest of our days there together.
    * * *
    LILLIAN WASN’T SURE WHY SHE HAD WOKEN UP. A DREAM, PERHAPS, that she couldn’t remember even as she opened her eyes and got her bearings. She soon realized Ezra was not beside her . . . and not in the bathroom either. She put on her robe and slippers and slowly made her way to the staircase. From the landing, she saw the lights on downstairs and heard the sound of newspapers rattling.
    She carefully made her way down and found him in the living room, sitting in a wing chair, working on a crossword puzzle.
    “Why are you up, Ezra? Don’t you feel well?”
    Ezra shook his head. “A little heartburn, that’s all.”
    “I’m not surprised.” She gave him a knowing look, but he ignored her.
    “Neither am I. I can’t possibly be the only man in America who’s up right now, feeling as if he ate too well.”
    “If you’d passed on that stuffing, like I told you—”
    “I wouldn’t be human,” he finished for her. “No stuffing on Thanksgiving? That’s positively unpatriotic, Lillian.”
    “It was loaded with sausage and those strange mushrooms she uses.”
    “It was delicious, every bite. And so was the second slice of pie. There, I’ve saved you the trouble of scolding me for that, too.”
    She sat on the sofa, across from him. “Well, now you’re paying for it. Something’s disagreed with you—maybe just the general mayhem over there. I like a quiet day, the kind I used to host here. Not a big hullabaloo.”
    Ezra put his glasses back on and picked up the crossword puzzle. “A little hullabaloo now and again isn’t the worst thing. Gets your blood up.”
    “Your blood pressure, you mean.” She sighed and shook her head. “How are we related to Matt and Molly Harding anyway? My son-in-law’s sister? That’s stretching it a bit, don’t you think?”
    “You know full well that Jessica’s husband, Sam Morgan, is Molly’s brother. Besides, Matt Harding is a good man and a fine doctor. I trusted him to take over my practice, you may recall. I think that counts for something.”
    “A tenuous connection, at best. I, for one, resent the way we’re just dragged along like baggage if we want to spend the day with our real family. Matt may be an excellent physician, but why does he need such a big TV? Shouldn’t the TV screen be smaller than the actual football field?”
    Ezra finally looked up from his newspaper, laughing. “Good one, my dear. I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy yourself, but I had a wonderful time. It’s good for us to get out and socialize. I just read the other day that social connections are vital for a long, healthy life. And to keep the gray matter healthy.” He tapped his temple with his pencil.
    “So I should regard these events as a necessary evil, like eating my vegetables? Isn’t my conversation stimulating enough to keep your mind keen? You were buzzing around me like an amorous bee for years before we