The Christmas Angel

by Thomas Kinkade

She was looking forward to being back in her old house where she could have some distance from her problems with Luke.

  “And what about your boyfriend? Will he go with you?” Lillian asked curiously.

  “No.” After her initial invitation they hadn’t talked again about Luke visiting Winston for Christmas. There’s no way he was coming with her now, she realized.

  “He’ll probably just hang around here then,” Lillian said, “looking to crash our family party with that hangdog expression of his.”

  Sara had to laugh. Luke didn’t have a hangdog expression, but he had appeared uninvited at Lillian’s doorstep more than once, which drove her grandmother crazy. Lillian had enough trouble welcoming guests into her home who were actually invited.

  “I doubt he’ll do that,” Sara said finally. “I don’t know what he’s doing for Christmas.”

  Lillian looked surprised and stared at her curiously. “Hmm, that sounds rather ominous. Are you two getting tired of each other?” Lillian paused, but Sara didn’t answer. “I’ve never thought he was at your level, Sara. I’m sure you could do better. This isn’t the worst news I’ve heard lately, by any means.”

  “Yes, I know how you feel about Luke.”

  Sara hardly considered herself “too good” for Luke. He was about as good as good gets. She doubted she could ever do better, though it looked as if she would have a chance to test Lillian’s theory, Sara thought glumly.

  The last light had faded and Lillian moved about, turning on her little china lamps. Sara had no plans for the evening. She wondered if her grandmother wanted to go out for a bite of dinner or maybe to a movie. Had Lillian ever gone out to see a movie, Sara wondered. Not since she’d known her, and probably not since Gone with the Wind was in the theaters.

  The doorbell rang. Lillian was in the dining room, holding Sara’s present.

  “That must be Ezra,” she said, not sounding very cheered at his arrival. “He’s persuaded me to be a fourth at bridge. Some group of old fogies he plays with on Saturday nights. I told him quite clearly I wasn’t interested, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “Oh, go ahead,” Sara encouraged her. “It will be good for you to get out of the house.”

  “Why is that? Why is everyone always trying to get me out of my house? I like my house. I’m comfortable here. Other people’s houses are not nearly as nice. I’m sure it will be a very tiresome evening with this geriatric bridge group. I’m sure half of them won’t be able to remember any of the plays.”

  The bell rang again and finally Sara went to answer it. She couldn’t stand arguing with Lillian all night while poor Dr. Elliot cooled his heels on the porch.

  “Hello, Sara. Good to see you.” Dr. Elliot looked neat and jaunty as usual, in a blue overcoat and a silk muffler. He put his coat and hat in the foyer on the long bench and followed Sara into the living room.

  “Are you ready to go, Lillian? I thought we could stop for a bite to eat first.”

  Hmmm. Sounded like a real date, Sara thought with a secret smile. She wanted to tease her grandmother but didn’t dare.

  “I already told you, Ezra, I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know why you even bothered to come here. . . .”

  While Lillian and Dr. Elliot bickered about the bridge party, Sara gathered her things and headed for the door.

  “Good night, Lillian, Ezra. I’ve got to run.”

  “Good night, Sara. Good to see you, dear,” Dr. Elliot said. “Don’t worry about your grandmother. I’ll take it from here.”

  Lillian glared at him. “Good night, Sara,” she said. “Thank you for the Christmas tree. I hope you’ll return in the New Year to clean up the pine needles before they ruin my Persian rugs.”

  “I will,” Sara promised, “and I’ll call before I leave for Maryland.”

  “Yes, do.” Lillian nodded regally. “I’d like to hear from you.” Which was just about her limit of showing interest and affection, Sara realized, though she did believe that in some secret place Lillian harbored a great deal of affection for her.

  Sara was soon outside, on her own again. She walked quickly to her car and drove away, though she didn’t quite know where she was going. It was only six o’clock—too early go home.

  Even her grandmother had plans tonight and she was all alone. She wondered what Luke was up to but refused to break down and call him. She didn’t want to get his answering machine, or call him on the cell phone and hear Christina’s voice in the background. She’d be up all night speculating on what they were doing.

  She’d be up all night speculating anyway, she realized. It wasn’t a good feeling.

  CHAPTER TEN

  WARREN OAKES HANDED EMILY A THICK SHEAF OF DOCUMENTS. “I’ve looked into this petition from the developers,” he said. “It doesn’t hold water. There are solid legal grounds to toss it out. It’s a bit complicated, though. Do you want to go into it now?”

  Emily skimmed the top document, her sight blurring at the dense lines of legalese. “It’s all right, I believe you. I can look at this later.” She leaned back in her chair and glanced at the clock. The hands were creeping toward twelve, when she would be free to run back home and check on Jane.

  The hours away from the baby seemed to grow longer and longer. She found it especially hard this Monday, after she had spent all weekend with Jane. She and Dan had enjoyed themselves, just puttering around the house, finally putting up the Christmas tree and decorations. While Emily knew the baby couldn’t tell one way or the other, it just seemed much more fun preparing for the holiday with Jane around.

  “The thing is,” Warren continued, “do you really want to take on this fight? It could hurt you and undo all the good work we’ve managed so far. It’s not only the zoning board who wants this. Go out and talk to anyone on the street. They’ll all say they’re in favor of knocking down those old hotels.”

  “Anyone who doesn’t live there, you mean.” Emily sat back in her chair and pulled off her reading glasses. “I’m all for getting after the landlords to improve those buildings, Warren. I’m all for reassessing the property taxes, too, if that’s valid. Every neighborhood in this town should be clean, safe, and secure for our residents. But I won’t sit by and watch a few greedy people profit while hundreds of others, who don’t have any power or influence, get pushed right out of their homes.”

  Warren stared down at the yellow legal pad balanced on his knee and jotted something down.

  When he didn’t say anything, she added, “If that makes me unpopular, I’ll live with it. I don’t think I could be very happy with myself if I didn’t try to stop this, even at the risk of losing support in the town council or the nomination next term.”

  “All right then.” He sighed and stood up. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Emily shrugged. “You knew where I stood. I don’t think you expected me to change horses on this situation, did you?”

  “No, I really didn’t. Just thought I should warn you. Your pony is headed over a cliff, Emily.” His tone was discouraging, but his smile strangely affectionate.

  “Yes, Don Quixote’s old horse. Or did he ride a donkey?”

  Warren laughed quietly as he left her office. The phone light was blinking on her private line, and Emily quickly picked up, worried it might be the new sitter, Blanche Hatcher. They had spread the word through church and found the perfect candidate, a woman in her early sixties, energetic and sharp but a warm and loving grandmother type.

  Emily answered the phone to find it wasn’t Blanche at all, but Nadine Preston, Jane’s social worker. Nadine had visited the house twice so far to check on Jane’s progress and often called for updates. Emily was starting to feel close to Nadine, as if they were longtime friends. Nadine was certainly an intimate witness to an emotionally challenging moment in her life.

  “Sorry to bother you at work, Emily,” Nadine began.

  “That’s all right. I’m just out of a meeting. What’s up? Oh, before I forget, Jane h
ad a doctor’s appointment yesterday. She’s gained two pounds and grown almost an inch since Thanksgiving. And Dr. Harding says the ear thing is totally cleared up.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. She looked very well cared for and alert when I saw you last.” Nadine paused. Emily sensed she had something specific to talk about. This wasn’t just a casual call.

  “I have some news. We may have located a relative. We’re not certain yet if this is so, or what it might mean for the baby. But I thought you and Dan should know.”

  Emily felt stunned, the breath knocked right out of her. She couldn’t speak for what seemed like an endless moment.

  “Is it Jane’s mother? Have you found her?”

  “No, there’s no sign of Jane’s mother. That seems to be conclusive. But there may be some family connection.”

  “I see.” Emily took a breath; her pulse was racing. “Is this relative someplace nearby?”

  “I’m sorry, Emily. I’m not allowed to say.”

  “Yes, of course. I understand. When will you know for sure?”

  “It will take awhile to see how this all sorts itself out. Then with Christmas coming, the office closes and everything stops. You know how that is.”

  “Yes, I do,” Emily said glumly.

  Christmas Eve was this coming Saturday, but offices would slow down for parties; many people would leave town for the holidays by midweek. She and Dan would be left in the dark, waiting and worrying all through Christmas. Emily had been enjoying such sweet fantasies of the holidays, with Jane free to be adopted and she and Dan somehow in agreement to do it.

  “I’m sorry, Emily. I know this is a shock for you. I’ll try to do all I can to get some definitive answer quickly.”

  “Thanks. I know you will, Nadine.” Her tone subdued, Emily said good-bye and hung up the phone.

  She turned in her chair and stared out the window. It was a clear, sunny day, remarkably mild for a few days before Christmas. Emily turned back to her desk, began clearing up paperwork, and then abruptly stopped.

  What was she doing sitting here when she had so few hours left with Jane? She wasn’t going to waste that precious time sitting in an office.

  Let the town fire me if they want to, she decided in a misplaced, stormy huff. I’m going home for the day to be with my little girl.

  My little girl—the thought caught her short. When had she started thinking of Jane that way? Well, at some point between the moment she found her and now. It was a foolish and dangerous way to be thinking, especially in light of Nadine’s call. But Emily knew she couldn’t help it. She was in love, plain and simple.

  A short time later, Emily had Jane all to herself. Blanche was happy to have the rest of the day free, eager to finish her Christmas shopping. Emily knew the feeling. All of last week had been a frenzy of shopping and decorating, and she still wasn’t finished. But today she wanted to devote her full attention to Jane. It was hard to put her down even for a moment, Emily thought, as she snuggled the baby close and fed her a bottle.

  She leaned over and softly kissed the baby’s brow. Dear God, please let Jane stay with us, she prayed silently and quickly. Please don’t take her away like this.

  She wasn’t in the mood to hang around the house, looking at all the boxes that needed to be wrapped and cards that needed to be written. So she dressed Jane in some warm clothes and her snowsuit and set out with the stroller.

  She pushed the stroller down to the village and walked slowly along Main Street, admiring all the beautiful Christmas displays in the shopwindows. When they came to an educational toy store, Einstein’s Toy Chest, Emily picked up Jane and went in. She picked out a few scientifically designed baby toys to help sharpen Jane’s hand-eye coordination and “stimulate her nerve activity for enhanced neurological development.”

  She also picked out a stuffed dog that had totally captivated Jane’s attention. Emily knew she was in a state of denial, going on a shopping spree as a bulwark against the bad news. It wasn’t going to change anything, but it made her feel better for just a moment.

  She paid for the purchases and hooked the shopping bag on the stroller handle. Dan would really lose it if he saw one more gift under the tree. She might have to hide these last few gifts or maybe stick them in the baby’s stocking.

  If she was still around on Christmas morning to get a stocking . . .

  Emily’s vision went suddenly blurry with tears, but she kept walking, afraid that if she stopped she would break down altogether. She pushed the stroller to the village green and sat down on a bench facing the water. She turned the stroller so that she could see the baby and so that Jane would be out of the wind.

  Jane was sound asleep, snug as a bug in her many protective layers. Emily tucked the heavy stroller blanket around her even though she knew the extra fussing wasn’t necessary.

  “Well, look who’s here. That little girl gets out and about more than I do,” Reverend Ben joked in greeting.

  Emily looked up at Reverend Ben and forced a smile. She could tell from his expression, though, that he immediately saw her distress.

  “Emily . . . what is it? What’s wrong?” He sat down on the bench beside her.

  “Jane’s social worker called me a little while ago. They may have located a relative. We may have to give Jane up.”

  “Oh dear. That is difficult news for you.”

  Emily pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes. “The social worker warned us that they might find somebody. But I guess I was just wishing so hard, I practically convinced myself they wouldn’t . . .”

  Ben reached over and patted her hand. He waited a few moments until she was able to stop crying. “What did Dan say?”

  “He doesn’t know yet. He’s up in Maine today. It would be hard to tell him this over the cell phone. I wasn’t ready yet anyway,” she admitted. “I think he’ll be disappointed, too. He’s grown very fond of her.”

  “I’m sure he has. I saw the way he handled her in church on Sunday. It’s been a good experience for him, no matter what happens.”

  “I guess so. It just seems so . . . unfair.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it does,” Ben agreed. “But you took a great risk taking in this baby, Emily. Taking her into your home and your heart. I know it isn’t any consolation, but from the moment they arrive, children are constantly in the process of leaving us, every minute, by infinitesimal but sure degrees.”

  Emily nodded. She had already had that feeling in only a few weeks. It was a miracle to watch Jane grow but at the same time frightening in some way. It cut her to the quick now to think of having to give Jane up.

  “I don’t know if I can do it,” she admitted to Ben. “Even to a relative—some stranger, who might not even really want to raise her. Maybe there’s some way I can fight it in court. Maybe I have some rights in the matter as a temporary guardian.”

  “Maybe,” Ben said, sounding doubtful.

  Emily didn’t reply. Dan probably wouldn’t want to go that route, even if they did have grounds to fight. They hadn’t even discussed adopting the child. She had been waiting for things to settle down, for a “good moment” to bring it up, and there really hadn’t been one so far.

  “This is so hard for me, Ben. It’s hard to explain why. Mostly, I just have this feeling that Jane has come into my life for a reason, that she’s really meant to be with me. I know it’s a long shot, but the feeling is so strong. I’ve been praying about it, praying very hard, trying to understand why God would send this baby into my life if I’m not meant to adopt her.”

  “Yes, I understand. This entire situation seems to have the fingerprints of the divine hand,” he admitted. “If you really feel that way deep down inside, it’s a hard thing to ignore. But sometimes it’s hard to distinguish if those intimations are really from some greater source or from our own deepest longings, Emily.”

  She knew what he meant—her feelings of loss over Sara, the hole there that couldn’t be filled or healed over. Ben wasn�
��t accusing her, just posing the question—a question she asked herself time and again.

  The reverend stared out at the harbor. The inlet was calm with small patches of ice floating near the shore. A gull dipped against the bright blue sky, out above the water.

  Emily chose her words carefully. “I know what you’re saying. That’s certainly part of what makes caring for her so meaningful to me. But this feeling . . . I don’t think it’s that. Not entirely.”

  “All right then. There very well might be some higher purpose to the baby coming into your care, Emily. It certainly was a strange coincidence. I’d be the last one to deny that. But the reason why this has all come about may not be at all what you or I or anyone would expect. We just don’t know what God has in store for us. It’s not only useless but frustrating to try to second-guess or,” he added, “force our own will on a situation.”

  Emily smiled ruefully. “You know me, Ben. I’m the persistent type. Once I set my mind on something, it’s hard to let go.”

  “Yes, I know that. Everyone in town knows that,” he said affectionately. “It’s always been a strength of yours, a key to your success. But every strong trait in a personality comes with pluses and minuses. There’s a time to be persistent . . . and a time to let go. Perhaps we should pray for the best outcome for the baby, whatever that may be,” he added quietly. “I know that it’s hard for you to put this all in God’s hands and trust Him to sort it out. It takes a lot of trust and faith and courage. And above all else, a great deal of love for this child.”

  “It’s hard to do that, very hard.” Emily took a steadying breath, not wanting to cry again. “I’ll think about it. I’ll try,” she promised. She leaned over and gave Ben a quick hug. “Thanks for talking to me. You’ve helped a lot.”

  The reverend looked surprised, then gently smiled. “I’m the thankful one, Emily. Glad I ran into you out here. If you or Dan need to talk at all, please call or come and see me?”

  “Yes, of course. I will,” she said.

  Ben rose and touched her shoulder then headed back to the church. Emily remained where she was, staring out at the water. She felt bleak and empty. Ben was right; she had taken a great risk, reached out for her heart’s desire. Now it seemed it would end in heartache and disappointment.