Mistletoe Melody (Christmas Holiday Extravaganza)

by Stacey Weeks

  He stole a glance at Melody. She chewed her lip and leaned forward with a pinched and hopeful expression.

  He followed her gaze back to Janie, who sat frozen as she had during every lesson he ever tried to give her since her stroke.

  Please, God. He nodded encouragingly and smiled, but Janie’s gaze didn’t seek his, it locked on Melody.

  Jethro played an intro on the piano, and Janie missed her cue. Jethro started again.

  Melody rose slowly when Jethro started the introduction for the third time. The eyes of the entire congregation followed her as she painfully made her way to the stage in a shuffling gait that told Quentin her nerve endings still painfully misfired. She perched on the top step in front of Janie and whispered something.

  Janie smiled.

  Jethro played the introduction again, and Janie started to strum.

  Melody’s voice filled the room. Just when Quentin thought the emotion building up inside of him would burst, Janie’s voice joined hers.

  Breathtaking didn’t even begin to describe the surreal moment. Janie sang tentatively, frail and weak, but grew stronger in confidence as she fixed her gaze on Melody.

  Melody didn’t overpower Janie, although she could have easily. Instead, she complemented her perfectly, allowing Janie to shine.

  Unashamed tears spilled down his cheeks and dampened his shirt, but he didn’t care. His daughter was worshipping again.

  How could he have gotten Melody so wrong? M.S. would have affected her fingers, yet she gave Janie secret lessons. The cold affected her comfort, yet she got out of the sled and wrapped Janie in the blanket. For a woman who didn’t want children, she acted like a mother without a child.

  Wait.

  She never said she didn’t want children—only that she wasn’t having them.

  Melody’s parents sat rigid in their seats with similar emotions reflected in their eyes. Wayne nodded at him. He understood. They were both witnessing their daughters regain something precious that had been lost.

  The girls’ final note lingered over the hushed room that suddenly burst into a standing ovation. Janie handed Melody her sparkly cane and practically skipped off the stage right into her grandparents’ outstretched arms. Melody took a bit longer to descend the steps, not too proud to rely on the cane for balance.

  Jethro closed the program.

  Melody wove her way straight to Quentin, but before she could speak Jethro descended.

  “You have a gift.” The old man peered intently at her.

  “Praise the Lord,” she said softly. “It’s all Him.”

  “Do you have plans to stay in Mistletoe Meadows?” Jethro looked from Quentin to Melody.

  “I, ah, I have an apartment in the city,” she stammered. Her questioning gaze landed on Quentin.

  He shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea where Jethro was going.

  “My wife’s been nagging me to move to Florida to be closer to our grandkids. I’ve been praying the Lord would bring someone here to take over the children’s ministry.”

  Melody’s eyes bugged out.

  Quentin pressed a hand into the small of her back, and she swayed into his touch.

  Jethro looked at Quentin. “You’ve done an exceptional job, but you already have a full-time job at the store.”

  Quentin nodded.

  “We need someone able to pour themselves into the role.” Jethro took Melody’s hands in both of his. “Can I pass your name along to the pastor?”

  “Ah, sure.” She sounded anything but sure.

  Janie bounded up. “Dad, can I ride with Grandma and Grandpa?”

  “It’s fine with me if it’s OK with them.”

  “Yay!” Janie ran back to join Quentin’s parents, who were catching up with Wayne and Clive.

  “Our vehicle is full.” Carol sashayed through the milling crowd. “Can you drive Melody home?”

  “Full?’ Melody’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought Travis and Leah left on foot to walk around town.”

  “We have…ummm… stuff in the backseat.” Her mom winked.

  “I guess that leaves us.” Quentin smiled tenderly at Melody. He knew it was a setup, but he didn’t care.

  Five minutes later, Quentin opened the passenger car door for Melody and helped her inside. “How did you get Janie to sing? What did you whisper to her?”

  “I told her that I wasn’t going to stay in the audience and watch her from afar. I was going to come close. And that if I could come close, she could gather the courage to reach out and take the harp.”

  He shut the door and walked around to his side. That was from the Christmas message. He swallowed a lump. Thank you, Lord.

  “I had never thought of it that way before.” Melody picked up the conversation as soon as he clicked his seatbelt. “About God, speaking from afar, then sending messengers, then finally, Jesus coming to reach me, to give me the courage and desire to reach out to him. I wanted to do that for Janie. To give her courage.”

  “And I want to do that for you.” Quentin reached across the car console and offered his hand. “Do you trust me?”

  She stiffened, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve been through this before,” she said sadly. “One day you’ll wake up and realize that you don’t want a sick wife.”

  “I’m not Brent.” He kept his hand out. She would take it. She had to.

  Melody shrank from his hand. “I believe that, right now, you believe your feelings are sincere. But how can I be sure they won’t change? I can’t keep doing this, trusting and being let down. It never works.”

  Janie walked by with her grandparents. She waved as she limped along in her sweet special way.

  Quentin’s voice thickened. “I learned a long time ago that health is not a guarantee. Things can change in a heartbeat. Do you think I love Janie any less because of her limitations and hardships? Do you think I see her as less than perfect and beautiful because she walks with a limp and needs extra help?”

  Melody’s eyes softened with something that looked like hope. She fixed her gaze on his hand, still lifted up and stretched out. “I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get the big family you want. I don’t want to be the reason Janie doesn’t get the brothers she wants. You’ll end up hating me.”

  “So Janie doesn’t get brothers. She’ll have cousins. So our family stays small. We’ll get dogs. I’m falling in love with you, Melody. I think you might love me too if you let yourself.”

  She sucked her lower lip into her mouth.

  “What we want is you,” Quentin said.

  ~*~

  Janie carried a cake from the kitchen into the living room as Melody and Quentin entered the house. It looked suspiciously like a happy birthday Jesus cake.

  Janie tilted it a bit for Melody to inspect. “I know you were supposed to make it, but I wanted to help.” Janie held it like an offering.

  Melody stooped down to Janie’s level. “It’s beautiful, Janie. I couldn’t have made it better myself.”

  “You did this?” Quentin looked flabbergasted.

  “All by myself.” Janie’s chest puffed out.

  “I think since you made the cake, it only fits that I lead the singing of happy birthday Jesus,” Melody said.

  “Happy birthday, Jesus!” Ava spun in circles and clapped her hands.

  Melody led them in a roaring rendition of the traditional song.

  “Are you happy?” Quentin drew Melody to his side when the song was finished, and Janie began cutting the cake. “Are you celebrating His birthday?”

  Melody took Quentin’s hand in hers and rubbed her thumb pad over the callouses hard work had built. She loved how warm and safe her smaller hand felt when it was tucked into his larger one. “This is the first time since I heard the words Multiple Sclerosis that I’ve felt this happy.”

  A slow smile stretched across his features.

  “Jesus came to me. Not to make my life perfect, but to walk with me through the pain. You reminded me of
that. Thank you.”

  “Look!” Janie pointed out the window to the backyard gazebo, which was lit up with strings of twinkling white Christmas lights. Travis knelt down on one knee and held out a ring before Leah.

  Carol gasped. She slapped her hands over her mouth, and her eyes bugged out.

  Leah jumped up and threw her arms around Travis’s neck. He spun her around in a circle.

  “Another happy memory made at the end of the Mistletoe Mile,” cheered Quentin’s mother.

  Everyone clapped, and the room buzzed with wedding chatter.

  Quentin squeezed Melody’s hand. “I know you don’t feel up to it now, but when you’re better, what do you think about taking a walk around town with me?”

  “Walking is good,” she said. “The doctor recommends it. How far are you thinking?”

  “Oh,” Quentin’s gaze flicked out the window and back again. “About a mile.”

  Author’s Note

  Dear Reader,

  Your time is precious, and I count it a privilege that you chose to journey with Melody, Quentin, and Janie through “Mistletoe Melody”.

  Often, the things I am studying in the Bible, or life events that rock my world, make their way into my novels. At the time of writing Mistletoe Melody, the ten-year-old daughter of a good friend was on the recovery side of a massive stroke. This young girl inspired Janie, and she gave the character her contagious smile, a mischievous pre-teen sense of humor, and a fierce love for family. You don’t read much of Janie’s story in “Mistletoe Melody”, but perhaps you will in a later novel.

  Melody was the result of my lovely twenty-something niece receiving a shocking diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. She endured painful tests, had hopes raised and dashed, and was blessed when the Lord saw fit to work through a drug trial to ease her suffering. Watching her life, her plans, and the things she assumed were a given for her future get shaken to their core sent me to the Scriptures.

  The enemy used the circumstances of these two girls to tempt them—and all who loved them—to doubt God’s sovereignty and love. The enemy loves to cast doubt on the character of God. Have you ever considered the weighty questions these two young women have been forced to answer?

  What if God’s plan for your life includes illness? What if it involves hospitalization or long-suffering? What if God’s plan looks nothing like your plan? Will you still love God? Will you still believe that He is good?

  Physical circumstances can blind us, causing us to miss the greater miracle—God’s ability to meet us in the hardship and heal us from our spiritual sickness sin as we seek Him in repentance and faith.

  I praise God that my real Janie and Melody are healing and surviving. I also praise God that He has done the bigger miracle and forgiven sins and healed spiritual sickness, a sickness that would have ended in eternal death and separation from Him, had Christ not intervened.

  Be blessed this holiday as you seek the Lord who has been seeking you since the beginning of time.

  Stacey

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