She could remember her aunt saying how very sorry she was, when everyone else seemed to want to celebrate, wedding or no wedding. The food had been ordered, they pointed out, the cake baked, the hall rented, so why not get together? It had been her aunt who had wrapped her arms around her and comforted her. Her aunt who’d taken into consideration her anguish and humiliation. Aunt Gerty had helped her escape it all by finding her that cabin at the beach.
“You’ll be there for dinner Christmas Eve, won’t you?” her mother asked, her gaze sobering as she studied Reba.
So this was the reason for the unexpected invitation to dinner out, Reba reflected. It all boiled down to this one question. One more chance to pull the rug out from under her.
Reba waited for the words to filter through her mind and emerge as a carefully measured response. Her mother already knew the answer: she’d been told perhaps a dozen times that Christmas Eve dinner was impossible. She’d even been given a reason that couldn’t be argued with.
But apparently she wasn’t ready to give up yet. Reba sighed, watching her mother as she waited for an answer. “Mom, I’ve told you and told you—I can’t be there Christmas Eve.”
“But I thought. I hoped—”
“I’m responsible for the church program, remember?”
“Yes, but I hoped that you might see your way clear to join us. It’s just that Aunt Gerty and Uncle Bill—”
“There simply won’t be time. There’s too much to do. It’s going to be hectic pulling everything together.”
“You’re sure you can’t arrange something? This is your father’s oldest brother, and he’s getting on in years. Who knows if we’ll get an opportunity to spend the holidays with them again?” The pleading quality was back in her mother’s voice, the soft, almost whiny tone she used whenever Vicki was involved. Reba didn’t doubt for a moment that her sister had something to do with this. It was all too convenient, this dinner too contrived.
“You’ve known for weeks that I can’t make the dinner. Why are you bringing it up now?”
Joan shredded her dinner roll into tiny bits. One would think she was about to feed a flock of pigeons.
“Mother?”
“It’s nothing. I’m sure everything will work out for the best, don’t worry. Okay?”
Reba’s agitation rose. “For whatever reason, this has to do with Vicki, doesn’t it?” Her mother couldn’t meet her eyes, a sure indication that something was amiss, which almost certainly meant the discussion ultimately involved her older sister.
“Just tell me.” Reba wasn’t up to playing guessing games.
Joan made a weak, frustrated motion with her hands, as if to say this was beyond her control. “You said to let Vicki choose which day she’d come and you’d take the other.” Suddenly she pushed aside her salad plate as if the sight of food disgusted her. “Oh, dear, this isn’t going to work at all.”
“What isn’t?”
“Vicki and Doug can’t come for Christmas Eve, either. Doug’s family is having a large gathering with his grandmother. She’s almost eighty and in poor health, and Vicki doesn’t seem to think she’ll last much longer.”
“Oh great, just great,” Reba muttered. She bent over backward to accommodate everyone but herself, and as always happened, everything blew up in her face.
“Vicki, Doug, and Ellen are planning on spending Christmas Day with us.”
Reba should have seen it coming. In other words, unless she changed her plans she wouldn’t be able to spend time with her aunt and uncle. As it was, their stay in Seattle would be brief. Reba had assumed Vicki would opt to attend the family dinner her mother had planned, freeing her to be there Christmas Day.
“I see,” she murmured.
“Vicki doesn’t really have a choice.” Once again her mother rushed to take her sister’s side. “It’s Doug’s grandmother.”
“Of course she has a choice, the same choice as me.” The words echoed with her frustration.
“We could have an early dinner and then all come to the church program,” Joan suggested.
Reba could see that her mother desperately wanted to correct matters as best she could, but it was impossible.
“It won’t work,” Reba insisted. “There won’t be time. I’ll have my hands full seeing to everything. I can’t very well take time off to run to your house for dinner and leave my volunteers. The program’s at seven.”