A Year on Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [125]
It was a check, made out to the Ladybug Farm Household Account, for an amount slightly more than equal to what remained on their loan.
Bridget looked up at her. “But how did you . . . ?”
Cici gave a small, self-conscious shrug. “I asked Richard for a loan. I figured he owed me, anyway.”
Lindsay said, staring at her. “But you said you would never do that.”
“This was more important than what I said, or what I thought,” Cici answered simply.
“I can’t believe he just gave this to you,” Bridget said, big-eyed, “after that fight you had over Lori.”
Cici averted her eyes with a brief, slightly uncomfortable-looking shrug. “Well, he didn’t exactly just give it to me.”
Lindsay touched her arm. “You told him he could have Lori for Christmas.”
“Oh, Cici.” Bridget’s voice was deep with the understanding of her friend’s pain.
Cici gave a quick shake of her head. “Lori didn’t want to come home, and I’ve known all along I couldn’t make her. I just released Richard from his promise, that’s all. He got to feel superior, and I got the money. I know it doesn’t solve all our problems,” she added, her tone growing a little anxious as she looked from one to the other of them, “but I figured it would buy us some time, give us a chance to make things better . . . if the two of you would consider staying, that is.”
For the longest time, neither of them spoke. The wind rattled the barn door and the sheepdog looked up from his nap irritably. An icy draft whipped down the back of Cici’s neck. And then, with slow, deliberate movements, Bridget tucked the check back into its envelope and returned it, silently, to Cici. Cici felt the ice settle in the pit of her stomach.
Then Bridget said softly, “And I thought I was the crazy one.” She unzipped her coat pocket and brought out a flat gold box. “I did wrap mine,” she said.
Cici lifted the lid, and Lindsay’s flashlight beam fell upon the contents. They both stared, dumbfounded, at the cashier’s check made out to the Ladybug Farm Household Account that was nestled against the cotton batting. “But . . . I don’t understand.” Cici raised her eyes slowly to Bridget. “Where did you get this?”
Bridget smiled, and that was when Cici noticed she was absently rubbing her ring finger on the hand from which she had removed her glove . . . and that her emerald ring was no longer there. “I decided there’s no point in having memories of the past if they keep you from building a future. Jim would have been the first person to say so. I didn’t know how I was going to convince you two to stay,” she said earnestly. “But all you asked us to do, Cici, was decide what we wanted, by ourselves. Well, this is what I want, right here with you two in this great big old falling-down house. I don’t have to go any further to find my dream.”
Suddenly Lindsay laughed, and hugged Bridget fiercely, then Cici. She sat back on her heels, her expression rueful, and announced, “I cashed in my 401(k). Well, what was I saving it for, anyway? Another day in the nursing home when I’m ninety-two? I was going to surprise you on New Year’s Day, like we agreed, but . . . Merry Christmas!”
Then they were all laughing, hugging each other, clinging together, and resting in the moment. When they recovered their strength, they faced the storm again, and, leaning on each other, crossed the last few yards toward home.
21
In Which Miracles Happen
Across the Eastern Seaboard, people awoke on Christmas morning to cold dark homes, automobiles buried in snowdrifts, loved ones camping out in airports and bus stations, and a frantic crew of television doomsayers anxious to bombard their viewers with every miserable detail. On Ladybug Farm, the two-foot blanket of snow that enfolded every dip and valley, that shimmered from the mountaintops and hung like heavy icing off the roofs of the outbuildings, was a portrait of serenity.
Inside the house, the wood furnace and the gas heaters poured out warmth, while the crackling flames in the fireplace filled the house with a cozy Christmas glow. Cici used their joint venture contract to