I square my shoulders and approach her. “Hello.”
Vivian turns abruptly. Tears glisten in her eyes.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I clasp my hands to my chest as I stop where I stand. “I didn’t mean to catch you at… such a private moment. If you need to be alone, I’ll leave.”
“It’s fine.” She wipes her tears away. “I shouldn’t be crying anyway. I mean it’s Christmas, right?”
“I usually cry at Christmas,” I confide in her. “I watch the same movies I watch every year and end up crying over them like I did the first time.”
She gives me a puzzled look. “Why do you watch the same movies all over again when you know they’ll just make you cry?”
“It’s crazy, I know. But I don’t think crying is a bad thing. It’s a good thing, in fact. It means you’ve been moved by something. Besides, it’s good to let out all the pain that’s accumulated inside you once in a while.”
She shrugs. “I guess.”
I take a step forward. “You look like you’re still hurting. Is it because of your husband?”
Vivian nods. “He was… He wasn’t the most wonderful husband, but…”
This time, she goes into a full-blown sob. I help her to a chair and look around for something to wipe her tears with. The best I can find is a green tablecloth embroidered with candy canes so I grab that and give it to Vivian. She takes it and immediately blows her nose into it.
Well, it needed to be washed anyway.
“I’m sorry,” she says as she sniffs. “I know I… shouldn’t be crying anymore because it’s been four years… and he wasn’t even the best husband. He… had other women and he spent… more time with his dogs than with me but… I just… I still miss him.”
“Shh.” I stroke her back. “It’s only right that you miss him. He was your husband, after all. You spent a lot of years with him.”
“Twenty,” Vivian informs me.
“See. That’s a lot, definitely longer than most couples last these days. Sure, not every day of those years was good, but some of them must have been.”
She nods and blows her nose again.
“So it’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to cry.”
“I’ve managed just fine,” Vivian says. “Most days, I can get by. But when Christmas comes…”
“I know. I personally think hearts become more open at Christmas. Everyone feels things more, whether it’s joy or sadness.”
“And now, my father is sick, too. And I’m afraid he’ll… he’ll…”
She breaks into another sob.
I put my arm around her. “Shh. Everything will be alright. It’s Christmas. It’s the season of hope and wonders and miracles.”
She stops talking as her tears gush out. I keep silent and let her cry, patting her shoulder in an effort to comfort her.
Poor Vivian. She must be going through so much right now, yet she’s doing her best to stay strong.
Finally, she stops crying. She blows her nose some more into the tablecloth, which barely has a dry spot anymore, then she throws it away and dries her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I’m really sorry you had to see that.”
“Don’t be.” I shake my head. “Crying with someone is better than crying alone. When you have someone who’s waiting for your tears to stop, the pain goes away faster and you stop crying sooner.”
“I barely know you, though.” She looks at me. “Actually, I don’t think I know you at all.”
“Ellis.” I offer her my hand. “I’m a guest at your party.”
“Vivian.” She shakes my hand, which I find a relief because Suzannah didn’t. “Are you with someone, or…?”
“I’m with Dr. Knight,” I say.
“Oh.”
“Rainier Knight,” I clarify just in case she thought it was Rainier’s elder brother.
“I see.” She touches her chin. “You were at the party last night?”
I nod.
“Then you saw that scene we made. I’m so sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I tell her. “Families fight. That’s a fact.”
She shakes her head. “My brother is such a… Oh, I don’t know what to call him.”
“A jackass?” I suggest.
For the first time, Vivian grins. “That will do. I seriously don’t know what’s going on inside his head sometimes. He’s always been like that, always trying to make everything about him, always causing trouble for everyone. When will he grow up?”
“Some men just don’t.”
Another grin. “Yeah. I guess. They can put on shiny suits but they’re still wearing diapers on the inside.”
Well, that’s one image I’ll have to shake off.
“And I’m still changing his diapers,” Vivian adds. “I’m still cleaning up his mess.”
My eyebrows arch. “You changed his diapers?”
I would have thought there were at least three maids for that.
“I did,” she answers. “Once or twice.”
I thought so. I stop thinking about it, though, as I realize the opportunity I have. A golden opportunity.
“Did you have a younger sister, too?” I ask.
Vivian pauses. “Actually, I did.”