The Christmas Hope

by VanLiere, Donna

  “Just amazed at how stupid I am,” Nathan said, setting the gift aside.

  “Why? What is that?”

  “I don’t know what it is. Four or five years ago when I was doing my emergency-room rotation a patient dropped this. I found it after my shift and said I’d find the owner and return it. You can see what good intentions have done.” He had told Meghan he would take the gift to the hospital and see if there was any way to find the owner but he never did. He thought he had thrown the gift away last year but obviously he hadn’t.

  Meghan knelt down and held the gift in front of him. “Why do we still have this? I thought you were going to do something with it last year!”

  “What am I supposed to do with it?”

  “Just open it up and find out who it belongs to.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure there’s a business card in there with a name and address on it,” he said, stringing lights over a branch.

  Meghan put her hand on her stomach. “I hope the baby didn’t hear that.”

  “What?”

  “Sarcasm at Christmas.” She slid the gift into his coat pocket.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t want it here.”

  “Why not?”

  “It makes me feel guilty and this should clearly be your guilt. The baby and I shouldn’t have to suffer like this.”

  Nathan laughed and put the gift out of his mind. Again.

  A bird flew into the window and I jumped awake. I rolled over in such a way so as not to wake Emily. It was just after eight. I hadn’t slept that late in years. Girl followed me as I crept into my bedroom and took off the clothes I had worn to bed. I put them in the laundry basket and stepped into the shower. I had no idea what I would do today about Emily but figured that since the office was closed I’d have some time to call on my foster families. I put moisturizer on my face and tried to rub out the wrinkles around my eyes that made me look older than my forty-three years but it was no use. I dressed and more or less smeared makeup on and then tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen. I opened the back door and let Girl out and then looked in the cupboards. There was no cereal. I walked to the refrigerator, hoping I had eggs; if I didn’t I wasn’t sure what I’d feed Emily for breakfast. There were two little eggs in the bin and just enough orange juice for a full glass. Perfect. That’d be enough till I got to the store.

  I heard scratches at the door and knew Girl was ready to come back in. I opened the door and the branches of a spruce tree greeted me. “Are you going to ask me in?” a voice asked behind the tree.

  “I never ask strange trees in,” I said.

  Roy poked his head out from behind the tree. “Get out of the way!” He pushed the tree through the door and dropped it onto the floor. Girl bounded into the house and jumped over the tree.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Roy took his hat off and wiped his forehead with it. “Whew,” he said, wiping the sweat from his neck. “Either I’m out of shape or I’m out of shape. It’s one of the two.”

  I smiled and looked at him, waiting for an answer.

  “I had to take Jamie Kramer back to Wesley House early this morning.”

  I nodded, listening. I knew he was aware of what I had done.

  “I went into the office and they asked what happened to your case. The little girl you were supposed to drop off last night. I told them that one of your foster families called you on your way to Wesley House and you were able to take the child there instead. Said you must have forgotten to call and let them know.”

  I leaned against the wall. “You lied?”

  “I figured I must have had a good reason.” He raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t I?”

  “This is her first Christmas without her mother. I know it’s against policy but for whatever reason I just couldn’t take her there last night. Not this close to Christmas.”

  “I knew I had a good reason.” Roy knew it was risky but he didn’t say anything. A social worker had taken a child home years ago, long before I ever joined the department, and the child fell down the stairs of the basement and broke his leg. After that, it became departmental policy that social workers could not take a child home under any circumstances. There was just too great a risk that the child could get hurt. We all followed the policy but off the record we had, at some time or another, taken a child home for a meal or a bath or an overnight stay. Sometimes it’s just the right thing to do.

  I looked down at the tree. “What’s this?”

  Roy picked up the tree and dragged it into the living room. “This is a Christmas tree. People decorate them during this time of year and put gifts under them.”

  I smiled. Roy didn’t want Emily to wake up in a house without Christmas spirit. Roy tried to be gruff and rough around the edges but everyone who worked with him knew otherwise. He had a big soul and a bigger heart.

  “It was tradition in our house to always put the tree up on the day after Thanksgiving. My grandkids helped me put my tree up this year.” He stopped and looked at the tree. “Every child should put a Christmas tree.”

  “You’re a good person, you know that, Roy Braeden?”

  He waved his hand to hush me. “Come on, now, I need to get going. I’m supposed to watch my grandkids today. Do you have decorations?”

  I thought for a moment and grimaced.

  He shook his head and opened the front door, reaching for several boxes and bags on the porch. Roy had everything we’d need to decorate the tree.

  “Did you buy all these?”

  “Well, at some point I did. I’ve been married twice, you know!”

  I laughed and helped drag in the rest of the boxes. “She might not want to,” I said, rummaging through a bag.

  “Yes, she will,” he said. “Kids love Christmas, no matter how sad their circumstances might be.” He placed the tree in a stand in the corner, making sure it was straight. “Why in the world do people have to deal with death during the Christmas … ?” He stopped and looked at me.

  “Death doesn’t take a holiday,” I said, opening a box of bulbs.

  Roy pulled a large reindeer out of a box and set it on the hearth. “His nose used to glow until my grandsons performed rhinoplasty surgery on him a few years ago. He’s seen better days but kids still love him. After his surgery we named him Warren because it’s a name as dull as his nose.”

  Roy pulled a miniature jewelry box out of a bag and handed it to me. “Could you wrap this and give it to her? She can open it now or wait for Christmas—whatever she wants to do. My granddaughter loves her jewelry box like this. It’s filled with all sorts of gaudy beads and rings and there’s a little ballerina that spins around. Do you have wrapping paper?”

  I shook my head and Roy sighed, burrowing through another bag. He handed me a roll. “There’s plenty there for you and Mark to wrap up presents for each other as well. I hear married couples still do that.”

  I walked Roy to the door and stretched to kiss his cheek. “You’re just like a jolly black Santa.”

  He snapped his head to look at me. “Jolly? Is that another fat joke?”

  I laughed.

  “And when have you ever seen a black Santa? They’re always white with pitiful, scraggly beards. There’s one down at the shopping mall this year. The sorriest-looking Santa you’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m sorry I brought it up,” I said, letting Roy out.

  I closed the door and started to pull decorations from the bags. When Sean was a boy his little hands would pull tinsel and lights out faster than Mark and I could manage. He couldn’t contain the excitement of being that close to Christmas. At first light on Christmas morning he’d run down the stairs screaming for Mark and me to follow. It was all we could do to convince him to open only half his presents so his grandparents could watch him unwrap the other half. Each year we’d buy him a new pair of sneakers and he’d pull them on and jump to his feet. “Look how high I can jump,” he said, reaching for the ceiling. “Look how
fast I can run!” Then he’d take off through the living room and kitchen shrieking as he ran.

  At nine thirty I still hadn’t heard Emily. I managed to organize the decorations before hearing Emily in the bedroom at ten. Girl followed me upstairs and pushed the door open with her nose. I saw Emily going through her suitcase.

  “Good morning,” I said. “Did you sleep well?”

  She sat on the bed and nodded. Girl jumped up next to her. In the brief moment when she opened her eyes that morning I knew Emily had hoped, maybe even prayed, that everything in the last five months had been a bad dream. Reality is always much harsher than we expect. She looked at the pictures on the dresser behind me. “Who’s that?” she asked, pointing to a picture of Sean.

  “That’s my son, Sean.”

  She studied the picture. “Is that your husband, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re married?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked at the building in the picture. “What is that?”

  “That’s a dormitory. That’s where Sean slept when he was at college.” She leaned her head against me and looked at the pictures on the dresser. She was quiet for the longest time.

  “Does my mom know that I’m here now instead of at the Delphys’?” A child psychiatrist had been talking with Emily for the last few months, helping her through her grief and although I had a counseling background I felt ill-equipped to help her. “Can she see me from heaven?”

  “I think when people get to heaven that they are just overwhelmed with things to do.”

  “You mean there’s lots of toys?”

  “Yes. There’s everything that you can imagine and more. But even though there’s lots to do I think God parts the clouds every now and then when something special is happening so people in heaven can see what their family is doing.” I felt a catch in my throat and couldn’t speak.

  “Sometimes I have dreams and my mom’s in them and we’re playing.” I put my hand on the back of her head. “Then I wake up and she’s not here.” We were both quiet. “She can never come back, can she?”

  Karen Delphy had told me that Emily often asked if her mother could come back. I felt tears coming but lifted my head so they wouldn’t fall. “No.”

  “Do you think she wants to come back?” I’d never thought about that question before. Once someone was in heaven would they want to come back to the life they had? It took me off guard and I thought for a moment. “Do you think she wants to come back?” Emily asked again.

  “No,” I said, whispering. “I don’t think heaven is a place that you’ll ever want to leave. But I do think she’d like you there with her.” I felt my heart beating faster. I needed to change the subject. “Are you hungry?You must be starving.”

  She nodded and I gave her a fresh washcloth and towel in the bathroom so she could wash her face. I went to her suitcase and pulled out a pair of cotton pants and a red sweater with Snoopy on it. I helped her dress and thought of all those mornings I’d helped Sean. Just when I’d get his clothes stripped off he’d run down the hall screaming, hoping I’d chase him. I brushed Emily’s blond hair and pulled it into a ponytail. I looked at her. She had deep brown eyes and olive-colored skin. She was a beautiful little girl. “Come on,” I said, offering her my hand. “Let’s get something to eat.”

  We walked down the stairs and Emily saw the Christmas tree and decorations. Her eyes widened. “Did Santa come?”

  “One of his helpers did,” I said, thinking of Roy. “He said he brought all this for you.”

  She stood still and surveyed everything that was there. “Where’s the angel?” she said, moving tinsel and bulbs out of the way. “Where is she?” I helped her look and we discovered her at the bottom of a bag full of garland. Emily pulled her out of the bag and held her up, looking at the angel dressed in flowing white with gold trim and long blond hair. A scowl came across her face. “That’s not what she looks like,” she whispered, setting the angel down. She was disappointed.

  “We’ll go out and get another angel,” I said.

  She looked at me and didn’t say anything. It had been so long since we’d had a child in the house that I was uncomfortable and I was afraid that Emily sensed it. “How about we eat first and then we can decorate the tree?”

  She followed me into the kitchen and I poured her a half glass of juice. I pulled out the two eggs and a skillet. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d made scrambled eggs but with the exception of overcooking them a bit they turned out okay. I set a piece of toast on Emily’s plate and watched as she ate. She reached for her juice and knocked it over. It spilled off the top of the island onto the floor and I jumped, reaching for a towel. I wiped up the floor and grabbed a handful of paper towels for the side of the island; it was splattered with wet marks. Emily looked stricken and I realized my reaction had been too much. After all, it was just a little juice. What was wrong with me?

  I smiled at her. “It’s okay,” I said, throwing the paper towels away. “Not a big deal at all.”

  She didn’t believe me.

  “Would you like more juice?”

  She nodded and I poured the rest of the juice into her glass.

  “Where’s your husband?” she asked, moving the food around on her plate. She didn’t look at me. In fact, since I’d picked her up she’d looked me in the eyes only once.

  “He should be driving home from work,” I said. I realized I hadn’t called Mark to tell him about Emily.

  “Where does he work?”

  “He flies airplanes.”

  “My friend Alex flies airplanes, too.”

  “Really? Well, Alex and Mark will have to get together!”

  She nodded and took a bite of egg. She saw a picture of Sean on the kitchen counter. “Is he at college now?”

  “No.”

  She took a bite of toast. It was so quiet in the house that I could hear her chew. “Does he live here?”

  “No.”

  She moved the food around on her plate before taking another bite. She still wasn’t looking at me.

  “Will he be here to decorate the Christmas tree?”

  “No.”

  “Will he be here for Christmas?”

  “No.”

  “He’s not coming home?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s in heaven.”

  FOUR

  Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense regardless of how it turns out.

  —Vaclav Havel

  Sean was a sophomore in college when he died. He was going to drive home on December 23, the last day of classes, and would be here for three weeks but he changed his plans when he learned Mark’s schedule had changed and he had to work on the 23rd and 24th for a pilot who was in the hospital. “Since Dad has to work I’d rather come home the next day,” he said. “Dr. Tamblyn said that if I want to work helping set up the new equipment in the media lab that he’ll pay me the same kind of money professionals get. He asked me and another guy in class because he thinks we’re his best students.”

  I didn’t want him to wait another day to come home but I could hear the excitement in his voice. “I wonder if maybe your professor could set everything up when you return after the New Year?”

  “No, Mom. He needs all this set up before everybody gets back. We can have nearly everything installed on the twenty-third and twenty-fourth.”

  I sighed. I really wanted him to come home on the 23rd but one more day wouldn’t make that big of a difference.

  “What time will you be here on the twenty-fourth?

  “By nine o’clock at the latest.” Mark’s flight landed at ten so that meant I’d be alone on Christmas Eve. I hated it but I knew Sean really wanted to do this.

  “Okay, just keep me up to date.”

  I used those two days to finish cleaning the house, get all the grocery shopping done, and start baking. Mom a
nd Dad and Richard and his family were coming over for Christmas for the very first time. Usually we spent Christmas at my parents’ or Mark’s parents’ house. I baked a German chocolate cake and chocolate pecan pie before realizing that neither Richard nor Dad liked nuts. I made a batch of peanut butter fudge. Surely that was more than enough to satisfy every sweet tooth in the house. Just to be certain I started a batch of sugar cookies when Girl wanted out. I walked outside with her and was away from the phone for only a few minutes. When I filled Girl’s water dish I saw the flashing light on the answering machine. It was Sean.

  “Hey, Mom, I’m on the road,” he said. “I left an hour ago so I’ll see you in a couple more. I’m going to be losing cell service in a few minutes but call if you need me. See you in a little while. Love ya.”

  I dialed the cell number but it went right to voice mail. I knew he was driving through a pocket where his cell didn’t work. I’d try again later. I finished the sugar cookies and put them in the fridge to cool before I rolled them out. I cleaned up my mess, which was particularly big, and looked at the clock. Sean would be home in less than an hour. I dried my hands so I could call him but the phone rang before I could do it.

  “Mrs. Addison,” the voice on the other end said.

  “Yes.” I couldn’t imagine what sort of telemarketer was brazen enough to call on Christmas Eve.

  “Your son, Sean, has been in an accident.”

  I felt the blood leave my head and my heart raced. Which hospital did she say she was with? Could she repeat that again? Where is it located? How is he? She didn’t know anything. I hung up the phone. My head was spinning and the wind had been knocked out of me. Where was Mark? He was flying. I had to call the airline so they could get a message to him. I dialed a number but got it wrong. I dialed a different number but got it wrong again. In frustration I pulled out the phone book but couldn’t remember the name of the airline! It was in my cell phone. I’d call from the road. I needed to call Mom and Dad first so they could go with me. I pushed speed dial on my cell phone but they weren’t home and they didn’t have a cell phone. I pulled the car onto the road and headed in the direction of the highway. Did I put the garage door down? Did I even lock the doors? I didn’t care. I sped through the streets of our neighborhood and onto the highway.