The Christmas Promise (Christmas Hope)

by VanLiere, Donna

—C.S.Lewis

  Matt cut across the town square on his way to work Tuesday afternoon and noticed the pretty blonde driving through town. She pulled into the alley that went behind the law office. He ran past the gazebo and fir trees to the street, then waited for cars to pass and dodged one as he ran into the road, crossing over to Wilson’s. Her steps were brisk as she hurried up the alley; she didn’t see him dart in front of the law office.

  “Hi, I’m Robert. Can I help you with something?”

  Robert’s voice startled Matt and he stepped away from the entrance, shaking his head, then opened the door for Robert. Matt turned in a snap to wait for the blonde and accidentally knocked a stack of files out of her hands. “I’m sorry!” he said. “I opened the door for a guy and had no idea you were…” He helped pick up the scattered files and handed them to her. She smiled and looked lovely. In the pit of his stomach he knew it wouldn’t work. She was beyond him.

  The phone was pressed to Judy’s ear. “Is Mr. Wilson in?” Matt asked, whispering. She motioned for him to step up to the office behind her.

  Marshall was at his desk, making notes on a legal pad. “Hello, Chaz. What’s up?” He took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair.

  Matt stood motionless by the door and fumbled with the gloves in his hands. “My name’s not Chaz McConnell.”

  Mr. Wilson sat on the edge of his desk and pulled off his glasses. “I don’t think I’m following you.”

  Matt shoved the gloves into the pockets of his coat. “I bought a Social Security number from a guy a few years ago because I couldn’t use mine,” he said. Marshall rubbed his brow, trying to understand. “I’ve never had to be fingerprinted before and I was afraid that the person with the Social I bought would have a criminal record. I also knew that my fingerprints wouldn’t match the number, and once someone found out I’d get fired. So I threw the envelope away when it came in.”

  Marshall nodded, thinking. “Why didn’t you want to use your own Social?”

  “Because I ran away from home seven years ago,” Matt said. “I never wanted my family to find me. I just found them on Sunday night, though. My mother’s Gloria Bailey.”

  Marshall’s eyes widened and he ran his index finger back and forth over his chin. “Well, Chaz.” He looked up at him. “Or…?”

  “It’s Matthew. My parents always called me Matt.”

  “All right, Matt. See Judy about taking a fingerprint test for the job. The security office is down the stairs at the end of the hall.” He slid the glasses over his ears and sat down at the desk. “We’re glad to have you.” He grinned and never brought up the issue again.

  Carla went to work early and ran down the stairs to the security office. She opened the door and watched Matt for the longest time. He was uncomfortable and shifted in the chair. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She sat on the edge of his desk and crossed her arms. “Just trying to see Miss Glory in you.”

  He pushed away from the desk, setting his ankle on top of his knee. “You won’t see much of her in me.”

  “She’s in you,” she said. “Donovan told me.” She picked up a half-eaten candy bar and took a bite.

  “How is Donovan?”

  “He’s tearing up Dalton and Heddy’s house and thinks he’s all that. I found a new apartment, though, so we’ll move this weekend.” She took another bite of the candy bar, thinking. “I never said thank you.”

  “You don’t have to,” he said.

  “If you hadn’t showed up, I don’t know…”

  “Don’t think about it,” Matt said.

  She fidgeted with the candy wrapper. “I keep trying to piece things together. Donovan, your mom, this job. I still can’t figure it out.”

  “Maybe you’re not supposed to. Maybe that’s the point.” He picked up pens and pencils that were scattered across the desk and placed them in the cup that was sitting on the desk’s edge.

  “You sound like your mom.” She reached for a notepad and let the pages flap over her thumb. “You know, when I first met you I didn’t like you.”

  He threw his arms in the air. “What? Why not?”

  “I thought you were an—”

  He put a hand up. “I know. Donovan told me.”

  She laughed and waved the notepad up and down in front of her. “Your mom makes me think about stuff. She tells me to eat green things and to make Donovan eat them, too. She tries to teach me how to make a budget and buy groceries and she tells me not to curse in front of Donovan and warns me about men. I haven’t listened to that last part.” He smiled and leaned back in the chair, propping his feet on the desk. “She makes me believe that I’m not a lost cause, you know?”

  He nodded. “I hope to be like her when I grow up.”

  She got off the desk. “Good luck with that.” She opened the door and Matt threw his feet to the floor.

  “Hey, wait a minute!” he said. “You didn’t say if you liked me now.”

  “Ask Donovan,” she said, letting the door close behind her.

  I stood in front of the Christmas tree and looked out onto the porch. “What are you doing, Gloria?”

  Her voice startled me and I turned to see Miriam standing in the hall entryway. “I’m wondering if I should turn off the porch light.”

  She crossed through the dark room and sat down on the sofa. “Leave it on.”

  I looked at her in the half-light. “Really?”

  “Shouldn’t others see it?” she asked. “Lost ones looking for the light?”

  I sat on the recliner, smacking my hands on top of my knees. “Miriam, that might possibly be the most profound thing you’ve ever said!”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “I’m full of insight and astute observations. Wisdom seeps through my pores.” She leaned forward and the lights of the tree lit up her face. “Have you wondered, Gloria, if there’s a reason…for all the pain?”

  I rested my head on the back of the recliner. Whiskers jumped into my lap and I rubbed behind his ears. “I can’t wrap my mind around it,” I said. “But I’m sure there’s a purpose.”

  She curled her legs up on the sofa. “Even if it’s self-inflicted?”

  Whiskers stretched a front paw toward my face and I squeezed it in my hand. “If that’s not the case then there’s no hope for any of us.”

  She stood up and her gown and robe cascaded off the couch in smooth pink folds. “Good night, Gloria. Good night, cat.”

  I watched her disappear down the hall and heard the bedroom door close. For the rest of my life I could question why Matthew ran away, why he was gone for so long, and why he chose to do things that hurt him. I could ask myself things like, What if Matt hadn’t moved to this town? What if he hadn’t just stumbled onto my doorstep? Would he ever have come home? I knew I could play the “what if?” game forever. Or I could let God work beauty out of the last seven years and actually sleep at night. Whiskers jumped off my lap and I unplugged the tree, letting the porch light filter through the living room as I walked up the stairs to bed.

  Matt took the bus into the city the next morning and walked four blocks to the Kirk shelter. A woman behind a semicircular desk led him through the gymnasium and wide double doors to a hallway with several doors on either side. The floors were shiny and smelled of ammonia and the walls were sage green. She opened a door to a cinder-block room, the walls of which were painted red. A cubicle divider stood in the room’s center. They passed an older man sleeping on a bed. The woman peeked around the cubicle wall. “Knock, knock,” she said. “You have a visitor.”

  Matt stepped beside her and saw Mike lying propped on the bed with his leg in a cast. “Hi, Mike.”

  The woman backed away and Mike smiled; he looked healthy despite the bruises and cast. “Hey, Chaz.”

  “Janet, the woman who doesn’t like people—you know, the lady who’s on the square from time to time…?” Mike nodded. “She heard that you were here.” Matt dragged the vinyl yellow chair up to the bed and settl
ed in. He told his story and looked at the floor, fumbling with the coat in his hands. “I’m not telling you what to do,” he said. “I’m not even suggesting it, but…” Mike listened, watching his face, and Matt shuffled from foot to foot. “I was wondering if you’d be up for a road trip?”

  Erin picked her things up at my house after work. She and her mother were coordinating their schedules for now and taking care of Gabe. “Once I have money saved, I’ll need to move back into town,” she said. “To be closer to work.”

  “Call me when you’re ready and I’ll help you find something,” I said. I helped her pack her things into a box and suitcase. “So, Robert Layton tells me you’re sweet on someone downtown.”

  Her mouth fell open. She threw a pair of jeans into the suitcase. “What! No. He was standing there when this guy just—”

  “Swept you off your feet,” Miriam finished.

  “No! No, he ran into me, and—”

  “Birds tweeted, rockets launched, the earth moved?” I laughed at Miriam and Erin dumped a drawer full of socks and underwear into the suitcase.

  “He wouldn’t want a girl with a baby,” Erin said. “Trust me.”

  “I’ve been studying and watching and performing for people my whole life,” Miriam said. “I can sense when someone is angry or bored.”

  “Are you sensing anything now?” I asked, winking at Erin.

  Miriam held up her hand. “Gloria, please. I can tell if someone is anxious or worried. And I can see when someone is in love.”

  “Me!” Erin screamed. “I am not!”

  Miriam and I laughed. “Just tell us this,” I said. “Is he handsome?”

  Erin zipped up the suitcase and pulled it off the bed. “Yes,” she said, brushing past me.

  “I knew it,” Miriam said, running after her. “And what is the handsome man’s name?”

  Whiskers bolted from the stair landing when he heard us coming. “I don’t know his name and as soon as he discovers that there are two of us in this family I doubt he’ll want to know my name, either.”

  “Oh, a doubter,” I said, loading the box into the trunk.

  “And a skeptic,” Miriam said, watching Erin. “But I know people, and this one is in looove.” She dragged the word out and Erin slammed the trunk shut.

  She turned and hugged us, and I was certain that I saw a tear in Miriam’s eye. “Thank you, Gloria. Thank you both for everything,” Erin said.

  “Come back anytime,” I said. “Bring your boyfriend. I’ll leave the light on for you.” She laughed and backed out of the driveway, waving. We watched her drive away and I sighed. “I hate good-byes and endings, and the conclusion of things in general.”

  “You’d think we’d be used to them by now,” Miriam said.

  I walked up the stairs to the porch. “I know. But they still stink.”

  Miriam picked up a large box filled with plates, saucepans, and utensils, and carried it into the house. I followed her into the garage with a huge bag of clothes. “We really need a permanent place for all this stuff,” she said.

  I dropped the bag. “We?”

  She unloaded the box onto the shelves. “You! Dalton and Heddy and you! Who do you think I mean?”

  I sorted through the clothes and laughed.

  Matt’s siblings all had plans to be with their in-laws on Christmas but they rearranged their plans so they could come to my house. Miriam and I shifted into high gear. There would be twenty of us, including Dalton and Heddy and Carla and Donovan, and there was lots of baking and cooking and shopping to be done.

  Matthew was awkward around his brothers and sister—they were strangers, really—but that would change over the course of time. On Christmas day my grandchildren littered the living room with wrapping paper and kept Miriam on her toes. “Throw that in here,” she said to each child as he or she unwrapped a gift. “No, no, not on the floor. We’re not rats!”

  My grandson brought his toy horse named Pink, and Whiskers spent the day darting from one hiding place to the next. Miriam said she’d never seen anything like it, and actually felt sorry for Whiskers. “There. It’s passed now,” she said, running through the house waving Pink in the air.

  Donovan was shocked to see that not only did Santa deliver presents under his Christmas bush, but that there were presents for him at my house as well. “How’d he do that?” he screamed, opening a small plastic case filled with dinosaurs. Carla opened a package of press-on nails and Donovan yelled out, “I told Santa you wanted those!” Carla’s shoulders bounced when she laughed, and I hoped that this time she could get her feet on the ground for good.

  Andrew handed Matt a small box wrapped with green foil paper and a velvet ribbon. Matthew slid the bow off the box, ripped back the paper, and lifted the lid. He picked up the red spiral notebook and looked at me. “I figured you’d want it back now,” I said. I watched Matt’s eyes scan one page and then another of the notebook. “Take it in small bites,” I whispered.

  After the presents were opened, the doorbell rang and I maneuvered through the debris to the door. I threw the door open when I saw who it was. “I’m so glad you could come,” I said, taking Gabe from Erin’s arms.

  “Since Mom’s working, I knew we’d be awfully lonely today,” she said.

  I pressed Gabriel to my cheek and walked with him into the kitchen. “Come meet Matt.”

  Matt was cutting another piece of coffee cake, and glanced up to see me with the baby. “Who’s this?” he said, licking his fingers.

  “This is little Gabe. Miriam and I practically delivered him ourselves. And this is…” I turned to see Erin. “Where’d she go?” I covered Gabe’s ears and yelled over his head. “Erin!”

  She and Miriam walked into the kitchen and Matt’s eyes beamed when he saw her. Erin blushed but I was too occupied with Gabe to notice. “This is my son Matthew,” I said, pulling his face to me for a kiss. “And this is Erin. The gal we told you—”

  “Hi,” Matt said, smiling. He offered her a piece of coffee cake. “I won’t knock that out of your hands.” She laughed and took the cake and a cup of coffee from him. He led her into the living room and I hovered in the doorway, watching them. Miriam stood at my side with her hand on Gabriel’s head.

  “Am I missing something?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “But that’s beside the point. I knew all along that he was the handsome young man she met downtown.”

  I snapped my head to look at her. “Do you think?”

  She leaned over and kissed Gabe’s face. “I don’t know. But it would make a lovely story for their grandchildren.”

  After the dinner dishes were washed and put away and the children were testing their new toys, I saw the envelope in the branches and crossed over boxes and books and tiny bodies to the tree. “Merry Christmas, Walt,” I whispered. I caught Matt looking at me and took the envelope off the tree for good, smiling.

  Epilogue

  So long as we love we serve;

  So long as we are loved by others,

  I would almost say that we are indispensable;

  And no man is useless while he has a friend.

  —Robert Louis Stevenson

  I watch Jack work on the car and pour coffee into an insulated mug. He must be freezing out there, I think. I stick a sweet roll or, as Miriam calls it, a heart attack shaped like a bun in the toaster oven and wait for the icing to melt. Jack has never charged me a penny for the work he does on the cars that end up in my driveway, but he has always expected one of my sweet rolls and a cup of coffee.

  Matt reaches for a pair of jeans and pulls on a worn flannel shirt. A thud at the door distracts him. The paperboy has delivered Matt’s neighbor’s paper to him again. He throws on his coat and walks over the small yard to the Kelseys’. Frank Kelsey answers the door in a pair of reindeer boxer shorts, his graying comb-over flapping atop his head in the morning breeze. The smell of sausage drifts out the door. Despite the time of day the Kelseys’ home always smells
like sausage. “I stood right there at the window and watched him throw it to your door,” Frank says, taking the paper from Matt. “He knows what he’s doing.”

  When his six-month lease ran out Matt moved across the street to the duplex next to Frank and Luanne Kelsey. Two months after they met Matt, the Kelseys took down the Christmas lights that had been up for fourteen months. Matthew helped Frank that day, and they worked together in the silence. Frank and Luanne still hope for the return of their son and weep at the not-knowing. That’s the part that kills them. I know.

  Mrs. Kelsey walks from the bedroom wearing a green-and-red-striped housecoat that she’s snapping up to her neck. Her dyed auburn hair looks like a cinnamon bun on top of her head. “Good morning, doll,” she growls as she ushers Matt inside. She sounds like a three-pack-a-day smoker but she’s never lit up a day in her life. Matt normally wouldn’t like someone calling him “doll,” but it works with a voice like Luanne Kelsey’s. “You look so handsome today,” she adds. She pulls glasses from her pocket and perches them on the end of her nose as she fixes the collar on his shirt. The scent of Jean Naté fills the space around them as she finishes. “What a great day this will be.” She holds his chin in her hand. “Do you want breakfast?”

  “Can’t today.” He looks at Frank in his boxer shorts. “Are you going like that?”

  The phone rings and I answer it, nibbling on my second sweet roll of the morning. “Do you have your work clothes on?” Matt asks.

  “Always,” I say, taking another bite. “Good meeting this morning?”

  “Real good. I just dropped Frank off.”

  I believe God put Frank Kelsey beside Matt that first day at AA. Matthew has been able to tell things to Frank that he’s not ready to talk with me about. Frank knows what it’s like to be broken, and has been a good friend to him.