Cocoon (7 page)

“You getting plenty of rest?” Seana asked, nibbling a veggie omelet.

“Heck. I sleep like the dead,” she assured Seana. “What's that rash on your cheek?”

Seana reached up to touch it and shrugged. “I didn't know it was still there. It usually comes and goes. It doesn't hurt. Or itch that much actually. Maybe it'll go away again. Some kind of allergy, probably.”

“Try some calamine lotion,” Barth suggested, closely examining the rash.

“I will.”

“Dang, but it's cold outside.” Billie Jean shook her head of unruly chestnut curls. “I'd be surprised if we don't see ice before the week's over.” She sniffled and cast Brutus a look of scorn.

“Wimp,” she snarled at him across the den.

Brutus licked his chops and burrowed even deeper into his warm, pillowed bed. He'd foregone his morning romp with Billie Jean. Smart dog, thought Seana, and smiled to herself.

“How's the chemo going?” asked Barth.

“Okay,” Billie Jean replied and took a huge slurp of hot coffee. “Thalidomide twice a day. Along with my 375 milligrams of aspirin to keep down blood clots.” She shrugged elaborately. “So far, so good.”

“You're blessed having been diagnosed so early with the multiple myeloma.” Barth got up to refill cups.

“Yup.” Billie nodded in agreement. “No holes or cracks in my bones. At least not at that time.”

“Your walking is going well, too,” Seana added. “I'm proud of you, Billie Jean, for your upbeat attitude.”

“Well, the doc said that whatever I do, just don't stop exercising.” Then she laughed heartily. “Last time I saw 'im, I said ‘doc, don't ever use that F word again.'”

Seana peered at her, a little shocked. “What?”

Billie Jean chortled. “Doc asked if he'd said something dirty. I said , yeh, you did. You used ‘FALL.' You told me that whatever I did, to not fall.”

They all burst into laughter because one day after that medical warning, Billie Jean had tripped and fallen on the stairs, fracturing her ankle. “I'm just now getting back to brisk walking each morning. But I'm comin' along just fine.”

Seana warmed to the camaraderie in her kitchen.

Yet, she wished her children would visit. Neither had visited in the past weeks and months.

Barth caught her eye and smiled, bringing his dimples into play. She wondered again that he could read her so easily. He knew her heart. Silently, he pointed to himself then to her and winked. She got it.

She smiled back.

Together, they would make it.

• • •

Seana heard the doorbell ring that Saturday morning and rushed to answer it.

She spied Zoe's automobile through the window and her heart sped up as she flung the door open.

“Peyton!” she squealed and hauled him into her arms. That Zoe wasn't with him was disappointing, but not enough to dampen her joy at seeing her grandson.

“Come on in, darlin'. Long time since you visited.”

“Mama let me drive her car over here while she's doing some makeup dance lessons at the studio.” His long lankiness still surprised and delighted her.

They slid onto the den sofa together, looking at each other in wonder. “I've missed you, Nana,” Peyton said in his deepening voice. A man.

Yet, still so much her little boy.

“Ahh, Peyton, I've missed you, too. I know we see each other at church, but it's not the same as quality visiting time. How's your mama?”

Peyton shrugged. “She's – mama. You know.” He looked uncomfortable.

Seana nodded. “Yes. I know. I miss her, too.”

The silence settled thickly. Then Seana perked up. “Go play me something on the piano, honey. Something Christmas-y.”

Peyton smiled, shrugged, and sloughed over to the piano. He sat for long moments before he started playing Seana's favorite holiday tunes.

“Oh I love that,” she murmured, laying her head back and closing her eyes as “I'll Be Home for Christmas” rolled off his long artistic fingers then modulated into a fingery version of “O Holy Night.”

Suddenly, the notes grew so full and rich her heart seemed to expand, and when she heard Peyton's surprised chortle of laughter, her eyes sprang open. Barth had quietly entered and slid onto the piano bench, joining Peyton at the keyboard. Ten fingers now flew over those ivories, sometimes crossing over each other until they crescendoed and came to an impressive finish.

“Know this one?” Peyton immediately swung into a rousing rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock.” During it, he and Barth switched places twice without any discernable note gaps. This happened through three more lively holiday selections until, exhausted, the two halted the concert, looked at each other laughing, and high-fived each other.

“Say,” Barth looked at Peyton. “You got time to go down in the woods and help me find a tree for Christmas?”

Peyton hiked up his long arm, peered at his watch, and nodded. “Yeh. Mom's got several lessons to make up. Couple of hours at least.”

“That should do it.” Bart slapped him on the back, and Seana heard them laughing as they bundled up and headed out the back with Brutus trailing them.

She knew that Barth had not included her in the tree hunt because he wanted a male-bonding time with Peyton. How like Barth to find the icebreaker in the current arctic standoff. She sighed as she watched her two guys disappear into the forest, wishing Zoe were as open-minded as her son.

• • •

Happy Feet Dance Studio bustled that night with holiday cheer. Reds and greens emblazoned by sequins brightened up every nook and cranny of the place. Two large trees laden with tons of ornaments and lights illumined the place. Holly-based Yule candles centered the white-clothed tables and painted everyone romantic and festive.

It was still a week before Christmas, but Zoe had so Yuletide-spritzed the décor that one had to, in self defense, get into the spirit of things.

Seana and Barth had spent the afternoon trimming the freshly cut fir. Peyton had been a big help, Barth told her. They'd loaded the nine foot tree into the back of Barth's pickup – one that Seana had recently insisted on purchasing for his gardening activities – and hauled it to the house where the two men set it up in the den amid much grunting, huffing, and puffing.

Zoe had cornered Seana at church to express her disapproval of Barth's extravagance in demanding a pickup, at her mother's expense, she'd added. And though Seana had pointed out that it was she who'd insisted they needed the truck for farming, not Barth, Zoe was not mollified.

Seana pushed away the troubling thoughts and focused on Barth and Peyton securing the tree on its stand, still struggling with the sheer bulk of it, amid much laughter and silly jokes about imagined hernias.

After Peyton left, Seana had marinated in the lingering warmth of his visit.

Barth had insisted that they continue to attend the dance studio evening parties. “Zoe needs us to support her, whether she knows it or not.”

Seana agreed. So tonight, they'd dressed festively and arrived to find the place full. First person Seana encountered was Joanie, dressed to the sparkly red fingernails in a sequined, green pants outfit and gold dance slippers.

Barth migrated over to chat with Fred Johnson, the grocer, who wasn't very fond of dancing but came to please Elsie, his wife.

“Well look at you, Joanie!” Seana grinned and was rewarded by a twinkle of Christmas-y emerald eyes, the tint of the day. The two hugged and Seana spotted Zoe across the room, resplendent in a form-fitting silvery pants suit. Her long ebony hair was loose except for the front and sides, which were pulled up and tethered atop her head with sparkly silver ornaments.

“Like it, huh?” Joanie whispered as she caught Seana's pleased response.

“I do. Did you –”

“My handiwork. Wanted to give Scott Burns a little thrill, dontcha know?”

Seana chortled. “It worked. He looks like ol' Brutus at a barbecue cookout.” And heaven help her, he did, as he hovered near Zoe, who barely glanced his way.

About that time, Zoe's gaze collided with Seana's. Zoe quickly schooled her features and made her way over to her mother. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey.” Seana wanted to throw her arms around her daughter but the solid wall of resistance was up. It was in Zoe's stance, thick and impenetrable.

Manilow's “I Wrote the Songs” rolled from the speakers and partners began to pair off into a sedate foxtrot. What with all the ages and degrees of dance expertise, it proved to be entertaining.

“I was thinking, Mother,” Zoe looked off as if studying the crowd for their dance technique. “I want to have the family Christmas get-together here at the dance studio this year. It's already decorated.” She looked at Seana and shrugged, her expression bland but challenging. “For a change.”

Change.

Seana swallowed soundly, willing her emotions away. They'd always had the celebration at her house. Always, because as the kids had always said, “It's home.”

Now, even that was disputed. A sharp arrow pierced her heart. “Sure.” She nodded and forced a smile. “Fine with me.”

Zoe looked at her for long moments, like trying to decide something.

“Mom – I resent calling your house, only to have to go through Barth to get to you.”

“But, honey, he lives there, too.” Frustration flailed inside her.

“I know,” the reply was crisp. “But I called and asked to speak to you the other day and he said you were taking a nap. I told him it was important and he said he couldn't disturb you.” She threw up her hands. “He refused to let me speak to you. I don't have access to my mother anymore. It was important or I wouldn't have called.”

“I'm sorry,” Seana said. “But Barth is sort of – protective. I haven't been feeling well lately and he's insisted on my having more rest.” She didn't mention that stress over the family situation was the main culprit.

“He doesn't have to protect you from me,” Zoe fairly hissed. “And when I'm trying to talk to you, he's always there, hovering, injecting his own thoughts and – just intruding.”

As if fate were conspiring with Zoe, Barth appeared at Seana's side, smiling and ridiculously clueless. “Hi, Zoe. Nice party.”

“Thanks.” The reply was clipped. Cool.

“Dance, Zoe?” Scott Burns appeared at Zoe's elbow, his attractive face intent.

“Sure.” Without preamble, Zoe slid into his arms and made his night as they lilted away to the beginning strains of Elvis's “Blue Christmas.”

Seana would have laughed had she not felt so rebuffed just then. Zoe usually put Scott off, so this little interlude had certainly worked in his favor.

“Dance?” Barth smiled down at her, dimples flashing.

She stepped into his arms and danced away from the stinging hurt.

• • •

The family met at Happy Feet on Christmas Day, but it wasn't the same as in years past. Both Peyton and Ashley seemed subdued, whispering in Seana's ear, “I liked it better at your place, Nana,” making her feel infinitely nostalgic.

Some comic relief was provided when Ashley wanted to show off her progress with clogging lessons. Peyton partnered her with a routine they'd practiced for just this occasion. The hoedown music and lively steps and turns had them all tapping their feet and clapping. Seana's eyes misted with pride.

The performance was lively and entertaining. “I am so impressed,” Seana told Ashley afterward and gave her a big hug and kiss on her flushed cheek.

“Hey! I made her look good, dontcha know?” Peyton teased, and Seana gave him equal time and affection.

But the overall ambience of the gathering was disappointingly cool. The place swallowed up their little clan, leaving room for an army, like their voices echoed in the space. It was dispirited. Like everybody was simply going through motions. Zoe's influence hovered over the entire scene. Not surprising, thought Seana, considering her daughter's assertive strength of will. The impact definitely watered down the usual holiday cheer.

“I felt definitely shut out,” Seana said on the way home.

Barth was silent, but Seana felt his letdown.

Then suddenly, he said, “We
were
shut out.”

“Yeh.”

“But they're still coming to terms with the changes.”

Seana knew he was right, but Zoe had had months to adjust and, still, she lingered in a perpetual state of suspicion.

“Barth, I think I'm going to take a weekend and go somewhere with my daughter. A mother-daughter time, if you will. She feels – well, she feels pushed away. I want to somehow reach her.”

Barth was silent so long Seana didn't think he was going to answer. Then, he said quietly, “Go ahead, honey. It can't hurt. And it just might help.”

So Seana later called Zoe and proposed a weekend girls's getaway.

“I'll check my calendar, Mom, and get back with you.”

Though Zoe tried to sound distant, Seana heard the thawing in her voice.

She smiled.

• • •

Their trip took them to the little North Carolina mountain town of Brevard. The mountains took Seana back in time to life with Ansel. This had been their retreat when life had gotten to be too much. Here, they and the children took time out to relax and become one with creation once more, when the entire world's cares and baggage seeped away and peace flowed in and filled the gaps.

They rented their favorite suite at the Marriott, then went out to dinner. The first night, they avoided discussing anything controversial, focusing instead on each other and memories of bygone days. The next morning, they were up early and went shopping, selecting small gifts for the kids.

Midday, they picked up a huge sub sandwich to halve and headed back to the air-conditioned suite where they propped up bare feet and ate, listening to cable's Sirius Escape music. “Mmm.” Zoe smiled, lolling her head back on a cushion. “I'd forgotten how relaxing times like this could be.” She sighed. “It's nice that Peyton is old enough to entertain himself.” Then she snorted. “And beyond that, I can trust him to stay out of trouble.”