The Gift of a Charm Page 25

  Feeling content and toasty on the sofa while a fire raged in the hearth and festive noises on the TV sounded from the corner, the two women sat in companionable silence as each read their own section of that morning’s New York Times.

  After a time, Kate averted her eyes from the paper and looked at her friend. ‘So, are you feeling OK now? About Danny, I mean. You were a bit … unglued when we were at the hospital.’

  Holly put down the entertainment section of the paper and smiled easily. ‘Well, I could only feel better once I knew he was resting comfortably. It’s just such a terrifying thing to get a call at work saying your son is in the ER. All kinds of dreadful scenarios were running through my head.’

  ‘I can imagine, and sorry again to have been the bearer of bad news.’ Kate peered across the room and watched Danny alternate his attention between the TV and his new Christmas gift. ‘He looks fine now. In a technological wonderland.’

  Holly laughed. ‘Yep, there’s no denying he is Nick’s son,’ she said with affection, for Danny, if not for his father.

  Although to be fair, while they were still at the hospital, Nick had phoned being apologetic about having to leave the ice rink, and had also been suitably horrified to hear about Danny’s accident.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ he told Holly. ‘We were having such a blast – in fact I took some shots on the phone…’ And much to her surprise (and delight) he sent through a picture he’d taken of Danny on the ice that day, her son grinning with his thumbs up, looking happier than she’d seen him in a very long time.

  Her heart had melted when she saw it, and then late the night before, he’d turned up at her door with the iPad, gift-wrapped and everything. Maybe he really was trying to turn over a new leaf.

  Holly ran a hand through her hair and her charm bracelet jingled, reminding her of something.

  ‘Oh, I forgot to tell you. I was asked out the other day. By a very handsome gallery owner. He’s Italian,’ she added, chuckling.

  Kate’s eyebrows rose. ‘Well, I hope you said yes!’

  Holly laughed. ‘Just because you’re all loved up at the moment,’ she said and Kate smiled coyly. She and Dr Chapman, the handsome physician who’d tended to Danny at Lennox Hill, had hit it off, and a big date was planned for the following week. Holly so hoped it worked out for her friend; the doctor seemed like a lovely man and her friend deserved someone special.

  ‘As it happens, I didn’t say yes or no,’ she continued. ‘I am waiting on some information from him, and really, this guy was such a Romeo, I’m sure he’s already forgotten all about me.’

  Kate shook her head. ‘Not possible. Any guy would be insane to forget about you. And what “information” exactly are you waiting on from him? Sounds very covert.’

  Holly went on to update her about the information she’d gleaned so far from the charms on the bracelet, and how she hoped Gennaro would be able to help her get even closer to finding the owner.

  ‘’Course, I don’t know if I will be able to find the time to keep searching for her much longer. After all, with Danny in the condition he’s in now, I can’t exactly be traipsing all over Manhattan.’

  Hearing his name, Danny approached them on the sofa. ‘What about my condition?’ he asked.

  Holly smiled and put her arms around him, pulling him close. ‘I said that I needed to be paying more attention to you, playing nursemaid and getting you back to health.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Mom, I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me.’

  ‘Even so, I can’t very well continue this wild goose chase, not with my only son injured.’

  ‘But you already have so many clues!’ Danny insisted. ‘So I cracked my skull open a little bit … no big deal. I’m OK.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see…’

  Holly idly turned her attention back to the newspaper and opened it to the crossword. She picked up a stray pencil nearby and started reading through the clues.

  ‘I agree with Danny – you certainly can’t give up now,’ Kate persisted. ‘Think about it. Someone is out there, frantic about losing their precious bracelet, and searching high and low for it. You are the person who is going to make that happen. You know, if you think about it, there’s a reason this ended up in your hands, Holly. It’s karma or something. You are the perfect person – the vessel even – to deliver the treasured memories associated with that bracelet back into the hands of its rightful owner.’

  Holly’s eyes widened. ‘Seriously, Kate, you should run for office with a speech like that.’ She laughed. ‘And of course I’m going to try my best to get it back to the owner but, right now, I’m going to try my best to finish this crossword.’

  Kate got up for another refill, and Danny once again turned his attentions to his iPad.

  Holly sat back on the sofa and immersed herself in following yet another line of clues – this time from the crossword. It seemed far simpler to uncover those mystery words than finding a proverbial needle in a haystack in New York City.

  But as she started to decipher the crossword, her inbuilt radar for intrigue and mystery began to go off as, bit by bit, she uncovered the clues. As she gazed at the page, something was becoming clear, but she wasn’t sure what.

  Five across: Singer of ‘Two Lives’. Five letters. KAREN (Carpenter)

  Seventeen down: Mr Darcy’s maiden. Six letters. BENNET (Elizabeth)

  Two down: Editor of NYT crossword. Four letters. WILL (Shortz)

  Sixty-four across: Not I, me, him, or her. Three letters. YOU

  Fifty-two down: ‘_____ the Night’ by Gaga. Five letters. MARRY

  Fifteen across: Not I, him, her, or you. Two letters. ME

  Ten down: Barry’s Westdale high-school student. Four letters. GREG (Brady)

  When Holly finally finished encoding the message plain for all to see in the crossword, her eyes widened. ‘Oh my goodness…’ she swooned, putting a hand to her mouth. ‘Kate, you have to see this. How romantic … What an absolutely amazing thing to do.’

  Kate came and peered over Holly’s shoulder. ‘What is it?’

  She held up the newspaper. ‘Look, someone’s being proposed to via the NYT crossword. On Christmas morning, can you believe it?’

  Kate read the message aloud. ‘“Karen Bennet, will you marry me?” Oh wow, that’s so amazing!’ Ever the softie, tears appeared in her eyes. ‘That’s possibly the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen – or read even. What a way to pop the question! I hope she sees it, this Karen Bennet.’

  ‘I’m sure she has – or will. She must be a crossword addict, otherwise why would –’ she looked back down at the message – ‘Greg do it this way?’

  Kate was staring dreamily into the distance. ‘Oh, I really hope she says yes!’ she exclaimed, getting carried away by the drama of it all.

  Holly read the message again. ‘Well, of course she will. Clearly this guy went to a lot of trouble putting this together, just for her.’ She looked at her friend, for once sharing in Kate’s mushy sentimentality. ‘What woman would say no to a proposal like that?’

  Chapter 28

  Greg was up on Christmas morning just as the sun was starting to emerge above the horizon. He had barely slept the night before, so nervous was he in anticipation of what would unfold on this day. Still, he felt wide awake and completely alert. Not to mention excited.

  He gingerly got out of bed, slipped on a robe and padded silently across the bedroom, stealing a glance at Karen’s sleeping form. He didn’t want to wake her until he was absolutely sure everything was ready to go downstairs.

  Quietly opening the closet door, he sought out the jacket he’d been wearing a couple of nights before at Cipriani. Reaching into the inside pocket, he found the ring box and slipped it into the pocket of his robe. He momentarily considered changing out of his pyjama pants and getting ready for the day, but that wasn’t how they typically did Christmas morning here and he didn’t want Karen to suspect anything amiss.

  Smilin
g, he patted his robe pocket and left the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him.

  He systematically went around the house turning on their Christmas-tree lights and the ones on the mantel wreath – setting the tone for a warm, festive atmosphere. He couldn’t deny it, he hadn’t felt this excited on Christmas morning since he was a child.

  Reaching down to rearrange the presents under the tree, Greg guessed that there would be more when his father came over to join them later.

  He disarmed their security system and walked to the front door, crossing his fingers on the way out that their paper delivery guy hadn’t decided to sleep in or skip his route that morning. That would certainly put a spanner in the works, and Greg didn’t fancy having to slip out to a newsstand to find a backup paper.

  Outside, the air seemed to sparkle, as if he could see individual molecules floating around him. He admired the crisp new covering of the snow and the icy brightness of the sun as it reflected off the smooth surfaces outside.

  Hoping against hope that the New York Times would be lying on the doorstep as usual waiting for him, he gave a sigh of relief when he saw that the blessed paper was exactly where it should be. At his feet, in its protective plastic wrapper, just waiting to be picked up. He would have to remember to give the delivery guy a good tip next time he saw him.

  Greg picked up the paper and shook off the snow that had settled on the outer covering overnight. Now that he thought about it, maybe he should run out for another one – might be nice to have an unused ‘souvenir’ copy of that particular edition. Something to show the kids someday.

  Greg glanced up at the clouds and he thought of his mother. Oh, how he wished she could be here to see this!

  Easing back inside the foyer and shutting the door, Greg took a deep, cleansing breath and thought back to last Christmas. Their last Christmas together as a family.

  Even though Cristina had been very ill at that time, due to the robust chemotherapy she’d been getting, she had been feeling more positive.

  Two days before Christmas last year, her doctor had told her that it seemed the cancer was responding to treatment. By this time, she had lost her hair, and his normally curvaceous mother had been reduced to a shell of her former self, but she was there, smiling, and as always staying positive about the future. No matter what it might hold.

  Greg smiled as he recalled her words. ‘If you live every day like it’s your last, then you have no regrets, because each new dawn is a blessing in itself – a gift you didn’t know you were being given.’

  Her smile never even faltered when, a few months later, even after the encouragement from the doctor, a fresh piece of news was conveyed. Yes, while the breast cancer seemed to be controlled, a new mass had been found on a recent chest X-ray. They would have to operate immediately and another round of chemotherapy was ordered, with radiotherapy to follow.

  At the time, Greg and Jeff had taken the news badly, but Cristina had simply said, ‘We just have to roll with the punches. It’s just another challenge and we’ll get through it.’

  Greg sometimes wondered where his mother found her reserves of strength. A lesser human being would have easily crumbled under the stress and strain, let alone the fear, of dealing with such a disease, a disease seemingly dedicated to morphing and changing into a new type of monster every day. But still Cristina marched on, head held high.

  Thinking of her words, Greg smiled as he edged back in the door and shut it behind him. Automatically his thoughts segued to their conversation in Cipriani about her missing bracelet.

  After he got through today, it was next on his list of priorities. He had to find his mother’s bracelet. It was a family heirloom.

  * * *

  Karen awoke and stretched out her arms. A full night’s sleep for what seemed like the first time in ages had done her the world of good and she felt like a new woman today.

  Glancing to her left, she discovered that Greg was no longer in bed, and felt briefly thankful – she wasn’t in the mood for any Christmas-morning nookie.

  Karen swallowed hard as she thought about all that had happened recently and she tried to make sense of it.

  There was no doubt she had been struggling with the idea of Greg becoming some sort of freelancer and, quite frankly, she would be lying if she tried to say that she was OK with it. There was no point in sugar-coating it any more.

  She thought back to the countless times when Greg had said that they were partners, equal in everything. But he took that away from her when he decided to quit his job without even getting her opinion on it. It made her responsible for everything – the finances, the mortgage, everything. And that was not what she’d signed up for.

  She had always imagined herself with a certain type of man. A man who was interested in the finer things in life, in being a member of a certain level of society and having possessions that were reflective of his status, not one who was necessarily interested in sitting in Central Park all day long selling photographs to tourists. She thought that she had found the former in Greg, and it frightened her that she might have actually found the latter.

  It was fine to frequent galleries if you were there to rub shoulders with people who mattered, and buy conversation pieces that meant you had money, if not taste. But not if you were there hoping to sell your wares so you could pay this month’s rent.

  Her iPhone beeped at the very same time the bedroom door opened. Karen jumped. She looked up to see Greg standing in the doorway, a huge smile on his face.

  ‘You’re up? I was just coming to wake you.’ He crossed the room and, sitting down on the edge of the bed, pulled her towards him in a huge hug. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I think it’s going to be a great day.’

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ she said, a little taken aback. He seemed weird … almost as if he was ready to jump out of his own skin. It worried her a little.

  Breaking apart from him, she swung her legs out of the bed and found her footing on the floor. ‘I’ll be right down. Just give me a moment to get myself together.’

  ‘Take your time.’ Greg smiled and left the room, allowing Karen to put on her robe and retrieve her phone. Her gaze quickly scanned the message and she smiled, placing it carefully in her pocket.

  She brushed her hair and washed her face, taking a moment to rub some Crème de la Mer onto her skin, which was certainly showing the effects of dehydration from her exploits a few nights before.

  Karen winced, thinking about it.

  Having approved her appearance, she got ready to join Greg.

  Based on the way he was acting, you’d think Santa himself was downstairs. Yes, Christmas was fun, and yes, she liked to get presents (preferably expensive ones in either blue or red boxes), but there would likely be none of that this year. After all, these days they had to think about their finances. Which meant that such goodies (not to mention all-round fun) would be limited.

  Karen sighed deeply. OK, let’s get this over with.

  Her suspicions were confirmed when she spotted the dearth of elegant gift boxes and bags in her pile beneath the tree. Instead there were a couple of very obviously store-wrapped packages and a simple white envelope.

  Reaching for the envelope first, her jaw dropped when she read the card inside. ‘Skating lessons?’ she said, looking up at Greg in bewilderment.

  He laughed. ‘I know it’s not usually our thing but I met this great lady in Central Park and I thought it would be different – a fun thing for us to do together.’

  She smiled, trying not to betray her disappointment. A lady in Central Park suggested this? Jeez, next he’ll be looking to raise pigeons …

  Once they’d finished opening the rest of their rather modest gifts to each other – some perfume and a skincare set for Karen, and tickets to a Yankees game for Greg – they sat in their living room, drinking mimosas, as was their usual Christmas-morning custom.

  Greg went to get a garbage bag for the discarded wrapping paper, and when he came back
, he placed the newspaper in Karen’s lap.

  ‘Here’s your paper, honey. I know that even Christmas morning doesn’t separate you from your crossword.’

  Karen smiled and took a sip of her drink. ‘I must admit I particularly enjoy the holiday ones.’

  Skating lessons aside, she had to confess she was feeling pretty good today. Maybe Greg’s giddy mood was rubbing off on her a bit. Or maybe it was just the champagne. Nevertheless, she was going to sit back and enjoy the day.

  ‘My lady,’ he said, handing her a pencil. ‘Do your worst.’

  Karen placed her drink on a side table and curled her legs beneath her. She went right to the entertainment section and flipped through the pages, finally finding what she was looking for. Folding the section into quarters, she studied the crossword and set out about solving the initial clues.

  Greg watched her with nervous trepidation, knowing that it would only be a few minutes until she found the hidden message. His stomach suddenly sick with anxiety, he decided he needed to do something to pass the time. He unfurled the trash bag and began picking up wrapping paper, all the while keeping a surreptitious eye on Karen.

  He couldn’t help but grin to himself as she filled in each clue, a studious expression on her face as she worked towards the completion of the puzzle.

  Greg bent under the tree taking his time.

  When he heard her issue a startled gasp, he knew it was time.

  ‘Oh my God…’

  He turned back to face Karen, expecting to be met with a huge smile, a delighted bowled-over, you’ve-blown-my-socks-off smile.

  His stomach lurched when he met her eyes and instead saw utter confusion, a look of sheer disbelief.

  Was it really that unexpected?

  Before he could utter a word, Karen held up the section of newspaper. ‘Greg, what is this?’

  ‘And here I was thinking you were good at these things,’ he teased. ‘Need some help with that?’

  He moved forward. Then, reaching into his pocket, he extracted the ring box and got down on one knee.