“Welcome,” Jewel trilled. “Happy holidays. What a nice surprise. We were thrilled to see your car drive in.”
Oh my God, look at that tree, Marge thought. The few times she’d been in this house around Christmas, the trees had been reasonably traditional. Not this year.
She was holding a tin of cookies and handed it to Jewel. “I make these for all my friends every Christmas,” she said.
“A sign of love,” Jewel cooed.
“Sit down for a minute,” Junior said. “We were on our way out.”
“Sit, sit, sit,” Jewel encouraged.
“We won’t stay,” Charlie promised as he and Marge sat together on a couch. “It’s just that Marge had a dream last night that was so powerful, she felt she had to alert you.”
“Alert us about what?” Junior asked, his tone measured.
“I had the most disturbing dream last night-about your mother,” Marge began.
“MAMA!” Eddie bellowed. “Did something happen to her?”
Marge shook her head. “No, but does she suffer from dizzy spells?”
“Yeah,” Junior’s eyes bored into Marge’s face.
“Pains around the heart?”
“Yeah.”
“Gas?”
“Yeah.”
“She can’t taste her food?”
“Yeah.”
“Never closes an eye?”
“Yeah.”
“Throws up occasionally?”
“Yeah.”
“Swollen gums?”
“I can’t take it no more,” Eddie shouted, his face crumbling into tears. “I gotta call her.”
He ran to the phone.
Mama Heddy-Anna’s annual Christmas party was in full swing. The wine and grappa were flowing. Everybody had brought a favorite dish, and the table was groaning with food. An old phonograph was scratching out Christmas carols, and a sing-along was in full swing.
When the phone rang, the person nearest to the phonograph yanked the needle from the record and screamed, “Pipe down, everybody!”
A few additions to Mama’s list of ailments had been added by a couple of the partygoers, and someone obligingly pointed them out, as after waiting for the fifth ring, Mama Heddy-Anna picked up the phone.
“Ha… Ha… lllo.”
“Mama, how are you? Someone had a dream you weren’t feeling so good…”
“They dreamed right.” Heddy-Anna winked at her friends and motioned for her eyeglasses as she squinted at the new writing on the board.
“Mama, talk louder, I can’t hear you. You sound so sick…”
Heddy-Anna read from the blackboard. “I think this is my last Christmas.” She sighed, then improvised: “Did the person with the dream warn you that I’m a dying woman?”
“Mama, don’t say that. It’s not true. Grandmama lived to be one hundred and three, remember.”
“She was a strong woman… not like me.”
Junior picked up the extension. “Mama, is something worse?”
“I threw up this morning… because my gums are so swollen… dizzy, you should know how dizzy I am… can’t see straight… wait a minute… I got the heart pain again… somedays it won’t stop…”
Heddy-Anna’s friends, impatient to resume partying, began to signal her to hang up the phone.
She nodded. “I can’t talk anymore,” she whined, “I’m short of breath. I need my rest. I can’t believe you’re calling so late. But what do I expect from sons who never come to see their mama?”
“Mama, you know how much we love you,” Eddie sobbed.
A click in his ear was her response.
Jewel handed Eddie a fresh handkerchief. Junior blew his nose vigorously.
Marge and Charlie looked appropriately grave. Marge stood up. “I’m so sorry I said anything. I just thought it might be better to let you know, in case you wanted to go spend the holidays with her.”
Charlie looked embarrassed. “Marge, would you wait in the car please? There’s a little business I have to discuss with Junior and Eddie.”
“Of course.” Marge grabbed Junior’s hand and pressed it. “I’m so sorry,” she mouthed.
As she passed Eddie, she kissed him comfortingly on the cheek.
“Walk Marge to the car, Jewel, and then give us a few minutes,” Junior ordered.
Jewel linked her arm with Marge. “Come on, honey. You were just trying to help.”
When they were out of earshot, Charlie said hesitantly, “Of course, you understand that Marge is under the impression that you’ve visited Mama Heddy-Anna regularly over the years.”
“It’s a good thing she understands that,” Junior snapped.
Charlie let it pass. “I felt so upset when Marge told me about her dream. Knowing the circumstances, something occurred to me. It may be a wild idea, but…” He paused and shrugged. “Well, at least I want you to know about it. It’s a way that just might make it possible for you to safely visit your mother on Christmas Eve.”
“What are you talking about?” Junior demanded.
“What does the St. Stephen of the Mountains monastery mean to you?”
“St. Stephen of the Mountains monastery? That was in the next town from us, just over the border. We used to ski there all the time when we were kids. It’s been shut down since before we left.”
“I thought you might have heard about it. They’re reopening the monastery as a hotel on New Year’s Day.”
“No kidding.” Eddie blinked. “Nobody was ever allowed in there. But what about it anyhow?”
“My cousin, who is a nun, usually joins us for Christmas dinner. She won’t be with us this year because she’s going on a pilgrimage. Sixty nuns and brothers and priests from all over the country will be staying at St. Stephen’s during Christmas week, before it opens to the public.”
They’re getting the message, Charlie thought, as he saw the brothers exchange thoughtful glances. “They’ve chartered a plane that is leaving tomorrow evening from Teterboro Airport in New Jersey. They’ll land at the new airstrip near the hotel, which, of course, is just over the border from your mother’s home.”
Charlie hesitated, wishing he could mop his brow, but he didn’t want to seem nervous.
“I asked my cousin if there were any seats left on the charter, and as of this morning there still were four or five.”
Junior and Eddie looked at each other. “We could ski from the monastery to Mama’s house in no time at all,” Eddie said.
Charlie swallowed, aware he either was about to hit a home run, or strike out. “I was thinking that if you two dressed as monks who had taken the vow of silence, there’d be no danger of anyone finding out who you are. I imagine you could easily arrange for the proper documentation.”