“I don’t want to leave her,” Isabelle says.
“But you want to go to the party, right?” Kevin says.
Isabelle looks up at him with big eyes. She has just gotten out of the shower and is wrapped in one of the pristinely white towels. Her blond hair is soaking wet, dripping on the duvet.
“Yes?” she says.
“And Ava’s friend Shelby is coming to babysit. She’s a school librarian, which means she takes care of dozens of children each day. And she’s pregnant herself, which means she has a vested interest in doing things by the book. She’s a responsible person, Isabelle. Nothing is going to happen to Genevieve.”
“I know,” Isabelle says, then she says something in French that Kevin doesn’t understand.
“Translate, please?” Kevin says.
“I’m going to miss her.”
“I’m going to miss her, too,” Kevin says. “But we can’t take her with us…”
Isabelle opens her mouth-no doubt, she’s about to suggest that they do bring the baby. Kevin can simply strap the Björn on over his tuxedo. But Kevin stops her. “We aren’t bringing her. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to us. She’ll be far happier at home, sleeping in her own crib.”
Again, Isabelle says something in French. It’s beginning to seem like a passive-aggressive tactic on her part.
“What?” Kevin says.
“I won’t be happier,” Isabelle says.
“Sure you will,” Kevin says. “You need to get out. We need to get out together, as a couple. We agreed on this when we bought the tickets. Right?”
Mumbling, in French.
“Right?” Kevin says.
“Right,” Isabelle says, reluctantly.
“Okay,” Kevin says, kissing her. “Go get dressed.”
AVA
She has waited patiently in her room for her mother to get home, half reading the new young adult novel by Meg Wolitzer that Shelby swears is a five-star experience, and half gazing at her beautiful Christmas flowers. I can’t stop thinking about you.
Now she can’t stop thinking about Nathaniel thinking about her. And thinking about Nathaniel leads to thinking about Scott because of the innate betrayal of thinking of Nathaniel.
She needs her mother.
But when Ava finally hears her mother’s voice, it’s commingled with other voices. Ava slips out into the hallway and peers around the corner in time to glimpse her mother and Drake and Mitzi heading up the main stairs of the inn.
Mitzi??? Something very strange must have transpired. Mitzi is here at the inn. Mitzi is heading upstairs behind Margaret, her sworn enemy.
A few seconds later, Ava sees Kelley follow.
Ava can’t even begin to imagine what might be going on with her parents. Their lives are, possibly, more crisscrossed and convoluted than Ava’s own.
It’s five o’clock-time to shower and get ready. Time to put on the green velvet dress that Scott won’t see her in.
Ava doesn’t like losing her sense of self like this. She doesn’t want to identify herself as Scott’s girlfriend or Nathaniel’s ex-girlfriend. She wants to think of herself as Ava Quinn.
She heads out to the main room, to play the piano.
She would like to delve into some Schubert or Chopin. Chopin is so technically difficult that it leaves no room to think of anything else. But it’s Christmas Stroll and a few guests are enjoying the fire and the holiday decorations. Mr. Wilton is admiring Mitzi’s nutcrackers along the mantel. Ava had encouraged her father to leave Mitzi’s nutcrackers in storage, along with her Byers’ Choice carolers. But her father thought the house would look “naked” without them. Possibly, he knew that Mitzi would be back. Was she back? Back back? Ava figures that Mitzi has come to Nantucket for Genevieve’s baptism. That makes sense, sort of. Ava knows that Kelley and Mitzi still talk on a fairly regular basis-and that no steps have been taken toward a divorce-because Bart is missing. But if there is anything else going on between Mitzi and her father, how will Ava feel?
Well, on the one hand, she’ll feel alarmed. First, Kelley was married to Margaret for nineteen years, then he was married to Mitzi for twenty-one years.
Then, last Christmas, he was with Margaret.
And now, this Christmas, Mitzi?
On the other hand, Ava has never quite believed Mitzi gone for good. When she ran off with George the Santa Claus, it felt like just one more of Mitzi’s phases. Over the years, Mitzi has become consumed with yoga, Pilates, vitamin supplements and juice cleanses, African drumming and healing crystals. The new thing is always the answer to Mitzi’s prayers. But really, the answer to Mitzi’s prayers-as Ava or any of her siblings can tell you-is Kelley. Ava suspected that Mitzi would tire of George and come home. But is that what’s happened? Ava can’t quite tell.
At that very moment, Mitzi is up in Margaret’s room. But why?
Ava is intrigued, but she can’t take on any more drama.
She sits down at the piano and plays “Ding Dong Merrily on High.” Ava adores carols that evoke London streets during a new snowfall, the Yule log, brightly lit windows on a square of stately brick homes. Next, she plays “Here We Come A-wassailing,” and “Deck the Halls.”
She pauses. The Wiltons, and portly Mr. Bernard, who is on the sofa demolishing the bowl of mixed nuts, clap politely.
“How about ‘Jingle Bells’?” Mr. Bernard asks.
Ava smiles sweetly. “That’s the one song I never learned to play,” she says. “So I’ll end with ‘We Three Kings.’” It’s twenty past five; she needs to shower and get dressed. The family is leaving promptly at six. If one doesn’t get to the Festival of Trees in a timely fashion, there’s a long, cold line at the front door, no place to hang one’s coat, and an endless wait at the bar.
She plays “We Three Kings” and tries to sing, though it’s really better suited for a man’s voice.
Before she finishes, there’s a blast of cold air. Ava turns to see the front door to the inn open and someone step in. Ava lifts her hands off the keys. The door slams.
It’s George.
George, Ava thinks. So Mitzi didn’t come to Nantucket alone! So there is nothing romantic going on between Mitzi and Kelley then, right?
“Ava,” George says. “Where’s Mitzi?”
“Hey,” Mr. Bernard says, “I remember you. George, right? You’re the Santa Claus. My wife, Elaine, and I met you a few years ago when we were here at Christmas.”
George nods curtly, then turns his attention back to Ava. “Where’s Mitzi?”
Something must be wrong with George. Ava has never seen him be rude to anyone, and especially not to someone who recognizes him as Santa. George relishes nothing so much as his own celebrity. He must really want to find Mitzi-and then Ava wonders if he has news about Bart.
Ava nearly says, Mitzi’s upstairs in Mom’s room, I think. But since Ava saw Kelley go up as well, she holds her tongue.
“I’m not sure,” Ava says.
“I know she’s here,” George says, although his tone of voice conveys that he does not know if she’s here.
“Honestly, George, I’m not sure.”
“Would you check with your father, please?” George asks.
Ava ignores this request. “Have you tried calling her?”
“No,” George says. “I don’t need to call her because I know she’s here. I’d like to speak with her in person. Now, will you please check with your father?”