The Echo of Old Books(106)
By the time their server arrived with coffee and the Parker House’s world-famous Boston cream pie, Ilese was bragging about her mother’s nonprofit and the work she continued to do on behalf of war-orphaned children.
Marian was clearly embarrassed by her daughter’s praise. “I do wish you’d stop, Ilese. You’re boring Ashlyn and Ethan to death.”
“On the contrary,” Ashlyn corrected, and she meant it. The more she learned about Marian, the more impressed she was. “It’s easy to see why they’re giving you that award tomorrow night. You have so much to be proud of.”
“I’ve been very lucky in my life,” Marian said, beaming at her daughter and the girls. “I was born into the kind of privilege most people never know. I walked away from most of it, but not all. There was some money when my mother died. Money my father couldn’t touch. It gave me certain . . . freedoms. I was able to pursue the work that was important to me and give my children the kind of life I wanted them to have. But mostly, I’ve been blessed to have such wonderful children. They’re both so bright and so talented. And they were such troupers growing up. I dragged them around quite a lot when they were young. I yanked them away from their friends in California to live on a wreck of a vineyard in Bergerac. They had to learn French so they could attend school. And then, just when they’d fallen in love with farm life and their French cousins, I dragged them back here.”
“Yes!” Ilese interjected with a laugh. “You brought us to Marblehead, to that big drafty house. We thought we’d freeze to death that first winter. But then summer came and we learned to swim and sail and dig for clams, and we knew we’d come home. The girls love it too. They can’t wait to get back this summer. They’re all going to be in Uncle Zachary’s wedding, and they’re over the moon about it, aren’t you, my darlings?”
The girls barely acknowledged their mother’s question. That it was well past their bedtime was evident. Lida was heavy-eyed and sullen, and Dalia and Mila were squabbling over the last bite of dessert.
“I wish Zachary could have made it this weekend,” Marian said as she signed the dinner check and closed it back up in its little leather folder. “Not for the award dinner but for tonight. It would have been nice for him to meet you in person, but he’s just back from tour and doesn’t dare take more time away. I wish he lived closer. I so hoped he’d end up here in Boston.” She smiled sadly. “I miss his face.”
Ashlyn and Ethan exchanged a quick glance.
“You never know,” Ilese said, curling an arm around the drowsy Lida and pulling her close. “He may still. The girls would love it if he moved closer. I would, too, I suppose, though I’d never let him know it, the big fathead.”
Ashlyn couldn’t help smiling. Ilese’s fondness for her brother was plain, despite her attempt to pretend otherwise. “Were the two of you close growing up?”
“When we were little, we were inseparable. We moved a lot, so we became each other’s best friends, but when we got older, we made new friends and found our own interests. Poor Mom. We fought like cats and dogs during our teens. I was very bookish, very serious about everything, and my brother’s never taken anything seriously—except his music, of course—so we were always butting heads. But we’ve always had each other’s backs. Nothing has ever changed that—or ever will.”
Ashlyn shot Ethan another knowing glance, realizing too late that Marian had witnessed the exchange. Her eyes held Ashlyn’s as the seconds stretched, an uneasy acknowledgment and an unspoken plea for silence.
“Well,” Ilese said, oblivious to the look that had just passed between Ashlyn and her mother, “I hate to be the one to break up this party, but I need to get the girls up to the room. I promised I’d call Jeffrey before eleven. It’s been a wonderful evening. I hope we’ll see you both at Mom’s this summer. I’ll make sure you get an invite to the wedding. And you could come for the holidays. We’ll teach you to play dreidel. I warn you, though, we’re ruthless.” She pushed back her chair, grinning. “And with that word of warning, I’ll say good night.”
Dalia and Mila slid off their chairs, clearly relieved that the evening was winding to a close, but Lida had already nodded off, her pale head hanging limply to one side. Ilese dragged an enormous tote up onto her shoulder—her mommy bag—then leaned down to pull the sleeping Lida up into her arms. The child whimpered, struggling briefly, before going slack again.
Ilese fought to keep the tote on her shoulder as she made a second attempt to lift her, but the seemingly boneless Lida was in no shape to cooperate. Finally, she turned to Ethan. “At the risk of being presumptuous, I couldn’t, by any chance, prevail upon you to assume your new role as cousin and carry this one up to my room while I wrangle these two to the elevator? I used to be able to juggle all three, but Lida’s gotten so big. It’s hard enough handling them when they’re all awake.”
Ethan stood and held out his arms. “Hand her over, if you think she won’t mind.”
“At this point, she’s past minding anything. Thank you so much.”
Ashlyn couldn’t help smiling as she watched Ethan take Lida into his arms. She sagged against him, sighing sleepily as she burrowed her face into the crook of his neck, her legs automatically twining about his hips. Her eyes opened briefly, heavy-lidded and swimming with confusion as she looked for her mother.