Sweet Revenge

beginnings of worry on her face. She managed tomake her smile brighter, but her hand shook a little as she set down her cup.
    “We should have some music.” Phoebe linked her trembling fingers. Even when Adrianne rose to turn on the stereo she didn’t relax. It felt as if there were hundreds of eyes watching her, waiting for her to make a mistake. If she had a drink, just one, then the pounding in her head would stop and she could think clearly.
    “Phoebe?”
    “What?” She jolted, terrified Celeste had read her thoughts. Celeste always saw too much, wanted too much. Why did everyone want so much?
    “I asked what you thought of Adrianne’s plans for the New Year’s Eve charity ball.” Concerned, she reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it, the reputation Addy’s building as an organizer?”
    “Yes.” “Silent Night”? Wasn’t that “Silent Night” on the radio? Phoebe remembered teaching the carol to Adrianne long ago in the hot, silent rooms in Jaquir. It had been a secret between them. They’d had so many secrets. Just as she had secrets now.
    All is calm, all is bright.
She had to be calm because everyone was watching.
    “I’m sure it’s going to be a terrific success.” Celeste glanced over at Adrianne, and the message passed silently between them.
    “I’m counting on it.” In an old habit she sat close to Phoebe and took her hand. On a good day that small contact was all her mother needed. “We hope to raise about two hundred thousand for the homeless. I’ve worried that a gala dinner dance with champagne and truffles isn’t really appropriate for a benefit for New York’s homeless.”
    “Anything that raises money for a good cause is appropriate,” Celeste corrected her.
    Adrianne sent her a quick, humorless smile, then looked at Phoebe. “Yes, I believe that. I believe that very strongly. When the end’s important enough, it more than justifies the means.”
    “I’m tired.” If her voice sounded petulant, Phoebe didn’t care. She wanted to get away from the watchful eyes, the unspoken expectations. “I think I’ll go up to bed.”
    “I’ll take you up.”
    “Don’t be silly.” Phoebe fought off annoyance. It faded completely when she looked at Adrianne’s face. “You stay down here with Celeste and enjoy the tree.” She wrapped her arms tight around her daughter. “I’ll see you in the morning, baby. We’ll get up early and open presents just like we did when you were a little girl.”
    “All right.” Adrianne turned her face up for a kiss and tried to ignore the fact that Phoebe’s once sturdy body seemed so brittle. “I love you, Mama.”
    “I love you, Addy. Merry Christmas.” She turned, holding out both hands for Celeste. “Merry Christmas, Celeste.”
    “Merry Christmas, Phoebe.” Celeste brushed her lips over both of Phoebe’s cheeks, then on a sudden impulse hugged her. “Sleep well.”
    Phoebe walked to the stairs, pausing once to look back. Adrianne was standing beneath the portrait, the portrait of Phoebe Spring in the prime of her youth and beauty, beneath the power and glamour of The Sun and the Moon. With a last smile Phoebe turned and walked up alone.
    “How about some more eggnog?” Adrianne asked quickly. Celeste caught her hand before she reached the punch bowl.
    “Sit down, honey. You don’t have to be strong for me.”
    It was heartbreaking to watch. Layer by layer, degree by degree, Adrianne’s control crumbled. At first it was a trembling of the lips, a blurring of the eyes. Strength melted into hopelessness until she sat, weeping into her hands.
    Saying nothing, Celeste sat beside her. The child didn’t cry enough, she thought. There were times tears helped more than bolstering words or comforting arms.
    “I don’t know why I’m doing this.”
    “Because it’s better than screaming.” There wasn’t a drop of liquor in the house, not even a dram of medicinal brandy. “Let me make you some tea.”
    Adrianne dragged her fingers over her eyes. “No, I’m all right. Really.” She sat back, deliberately relaxing. She’d taught herself how to ease the tension out of her limbs, her mind, her heart. It was a matter of survival. “I guess I’m not feeling very festive.”
    “Feel like talking to a friend?”
    With her eyes closed Adrianne reached out and found Celeste’s hand. “What would we do without you?”
    “I haven’t been too much help lately. The last few months the