by Hope Ramsay
“My head is pounding if you really want to know. And I’m feeling kind of strange.”
“Maybe that explains why you were in church earlier this morning. On your knees. Did that bump on the head knock some sense into you? Have you had a change of heart?”
He grunted a laugh. In some ways it definitely felt like his heart had changed. He couldn’t exactly explain the hallucination he’d had in church this noontime, but he’d felt lighter ever since. And more determined to speak with Lark.
“Are you ignoring me, son?”
“Uh, sorry. I’m kind of all over the place.”
“I asked if you were having a change of heart?”
“No, not really. I mean not about church.” He sighed. “Miriam, Arlene suggested a few days ago that I should consult you on the topic of love.” His face burned.
It was Miriam’s turn to laugh. “Honey,” she said patting his knee, “I gave you marital advice when you were eighteen. Near as I can see it’s still relevant, even if you are almost forty.”
He looked up. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Exactly what I say, but it’s so funny how people always misunderstand me. Now, you take Lark, for instance, I told her she needed to find someone she could talk to, and she thought I was suggesting she find a therapist.”
“You mean you really did give her a matrimonial prediction?”
“I’m surprised Lillian Bray didn’t trumpet it from one end of Palmetto Avenue to the other. But I think Lillian has the misguided notion that I only hand out advice to good Episcopalians. She’s a good woman but just a little narrow-minded.”
Stone studied the little old lady for a moment. “You told Lark she needed to find someone to talk to?”
“Yes. But not just anyone. Someone who really understood what was going on in her head. She’s quite afraid, you know.”
“Yes, I know.”
Miriam smiled, but said nothing.
“Miriam, are you saying I should still be looking for a crusader?”
“So, you are looking? I’d heard that you’d taken off your wedding band. Good. Of course you should be looking for a crusader. Didn’t I tell you that years ago? And just remember that most crusaders come home disillusioned and maybe even a little cynical and scared. They need to be reminded of what the crusade was for in the first place. They need an anchor. That’s where you come in.” Something sparked in her eye, and Stone would have questioned her further if Doc Cooper hadn’t taken that moment to step onto the little stage at the end of the fellowship hall and get the Christmas play under way.
It was a little past six o’clock when Lark finally reached the town limits of Last Chance, South Carolina. The town looked practically picturesque in the deep winter night, lit up from end to end for Christmas Eve.
Palmetto Avenue seemed to have a little more traffic than usual. It sure looked like half the population was streaming into the parking lots of the four churches that dominated the main street. This must be the early crowd. There would probably be a real traffic jam just before midnight.
She turned onto Calhoun Street and drove past Stone’s house. The windows were dark. She drove a little farther down the block. The windows were dark at Ruby’s house, too.
Everyone was probably at church.
But which one?
Probably Christ Church—it was the biggest one in town and the one that Miriam, Hettie, and Lillian belonged to. She turned the car around.
Five minutes later, she hurried up the front walk of the church and opened the door to the sanctuary. The place was beautifully decorated with pine roping and poinsettias. But the place was practically empty.
“If you’re looking for the third-grade Christmas play, it’s being held in the fellowship hall,” said a little balding man who was sitting in the choir section. “If you’re here for the choir’s concert, you’re about an hour and a half early.”
Lark asked for directions to the fellowship hall, and a couple of minutes later she quietly entered the darkened room.
A little boy wearing a white shirt, clip-on tie, khakis, and sneakers stood to one side of a raised stage, reading from a paper. “And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night,” he read.
When his narration was finished, out from the wings came two shepherds herding three adorable sheep. One of the shepherds was Haley Rhodes, wearing a headdress and a painted-on beard. The sheep ran around the stage saying “baa baa” for a moment and finally settled to one side with Haley and the other shepherd beside them.
The narrator spoke again. “And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them…”
Out from the wings came a zaftig angel with a gold halo and cardboard wings. The minute she arrived, Haley made like she was afraid. The chubby angel spoke. “Fear not: for… um, uh… um…” She looked out at the audience like a deer in the headlights. The poor kid was terrified.
Haley raised her head. “Behold I bring you good tidings,” she whispered in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. A few chuckles could be heard from the audience.
“Oh, yeah, I remember,” the angel said, “behold I bring you good tidings of… um… yeah, I got it… great joy, which shall be to all people.” She hesitated again, and Haley prompted.
“Oh, yeah… For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be… uh… a sign unto you; You shall find the baby wrapped in waddling clothes, lying in a manger.”
The chubby angel let go of a relieved sigh, and the narrator took over. “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying—”
Three more little angels arrived on stage and said, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men.”
The narrator continued. “And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another…”
The angels exited stage right. And Haley turned to the other shepherd and said in a booming voice, “Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.”
The curtain behind the shepherds rose and there were Joseph and Mary with a manger, and a variety of adorable barn animals.
The narrator read the remainder of the Bible verses as the kids made a living tableau of the first Christmas.
Even Lark, jaded as she was, found herself smiling. She wasn’t a Christian and probably never would be, but the Christmas story was always uplifting, especially the part about peace on earth.
The kids got their applause and the house lights came up. She saw Stone almost immediately, as if her eyes were magically directed toward him. He stood up and Haley, still dressed in her shepherd’s costume, came barreling toward him. He bent and lifted her up, and gave her a big kiss on her cheek, heedless of the dark greasepaint there.
Lizzy stood next to him, dressed up for Christmas but looking vaguely bored. Stone’s family was there with him, too—his mother and father, his brothers and their wives. Only his sister was missing. She was celebrating Christmas in England this year.
Lark hesitated. She didn’t belong. What had she been thinking? Had she been thinking at all?
No. She’d been acting on pure emotion. She’d checked rationality at the door.
Stone looked up and their eyes met across the crowded room. He startled. And then he smiled and his shoulders relaxed.
He put Haley down and turned and headed in her direction. There was a smudge of black greasepaint on his nose. It made him look oddly adorable.
“I came back,” she whispered, when he stood before her.
“Why didn’t you call me? I’ve been worried about you. Aren’t you supposed to be flying to Africa tomorrow?”
She shook her head and looked up into his handsome face. A face she had be
en searching for all her life. The words she’d endlessly rehearsed during her frantic drive south suddenly clogged in her throat.
It didn’t seem to matter. It was like he knew what she wanted to say without her having to actually say it. He reached out and pulled her up into a kiss so hot she almost lost her mind. Something had changed in him. He wasn’t holding anything back anymore, and the kiss took her to a place she didn’t even know existed.
And when the kiss finally ended the parishioners started applauding. Not just his family, but half the town of Last Chance, South Carolina. There were even a few shouts of “bravo” from a couple of the members of the Christ Church Ladies’ Auxiliary.
Haley separated herself from the rest of the family and raced up to them. Stone let Lark go long enough to catch Haley and pull her up into his arms. Her brown eyes were lit up, and there was a big smile on her face.
“Miss Lark, you’re right about Santa.”
Lark laughed. “Yeah, maybe I was.”
“No, really. The angel is gone. She’s gone to Heaven. I’m sure Santa did it—and maybe he had some help from the angels. They definitely made it snow.”
“How do you know the angel is gone?” Stone asked, his voice just a little hushed and strange.
“I just do,” Haley said. “It’s the only thing I really wanted for Christmas.”
Stone turned toward Lark. “Will you come home with me and share Christmas? I don’t want you to go to Africa.”
Tears flooded her eyes. “I was coming back to tell you that I don’t want to go. Just like Pop, it seems that I’ve fallen in love right here in Last Chance.”
“You were? You have?”
She nodded, and the tears fell down her cheeks. She couldn’t say anything more. But it was okay because Stone knew what she meant. He didn’t need her words. He could read her like an open book.
He pulled her up into his arms, where she shared a little space with Haley. “I love you, too,” he whispered in her ear.
And that’s all she needed to know.
READING GROUP GUIDE
Discussion Questions for Last Chance Christmas
1. People light candles and put up lights at Hanukkah and Christmas. How is the idea of lighting up the dark played out as a theme in Last Chance Christmas? Do you think Lark’s profession as a photographer is important to this theme? How?
2. Aunt Arlene tells Stone that every person has a hole inside them. Do you agree with this philosophy? If so, where does this hole come from? If not, why not?
3. How does the theme of “letting go” play out in the novel, not just in the main love story but in the subplots as well?
4. Have you ever been the object of prejudice? How did it make you feel? Discuss how the town of Last Chance initially treats Lark and David. Do you think people in town were fair to them? Do you think Lark and David handled the prejudice well? How were their strategies different from Abe Chaikin’s strategy in 1968?
5. At one point in his life, Stone’s wife, Sharon, tells him that he needs to give up his losses to God in order to be happy. She tells him that the things you’ve lost come back to you with love. Discuss how this idea is related to the traditional Christian story of the birth of Christ.
All’s fair in love and literature…
LAST CHANCE BOOK CLUB
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Savannah White pulled her twelve-year-old Honda into Aunt Miriam’s driveway. She set the parking brake and studied the old Victorian house through the windshield. It had seen better days. Mauve and gold paint peeled from the shingles and gingerbread woodwork, the porch steps sagged, and the azaleas along the front porch were overgrown, even if they were in full springtime bloom.
She studied the azaleas for a long moment. Savannah had only visited Aunt Miriam in the summertime so she had never seen the azaleas bloom before. The bright pink blossoms were a reminder that she was taking a huge risk. Savannah had no idea if she would even like living in Last Chance year-round.
Of course no one knew yet that she planned to stay. If she had announced her plans, her ex-husband and his parents would have done everything in their power to stop her from leaving Baltimore with her son, Todd. But leaving for a few days to attend a funeral was acceptable. A death in the family trumped everything.
She turned toward Todd. He sat in the passenger’s seat completely engrossed in a video game. His brown hair curled over his forehead, and the tip of his tongue showed at the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. His eyelashes were still amazingly long for a boy, but his skin was so pale that he looked like one of those teen vampires from Twilight, albeit a slightly chubby one.
“It’s time to put the game away,” Savannah said.
Todd didn’t acknowledge her request. Tuning her out had become a pattern.
“We have to go now. It’s time to meet Aunt Miriam.”
No response.
She reached over and took the game from his hands.
“Mom,” he whined, “I was just about to win that level.”
Savannah turned the damn thing off and tucked it into her oversized purse. “Sorry, kiddo, we’re here. It’s time to join the real world.”
He rolled his pretty brown eyes. “Aw, couldn’t I just stay in the car?”
“No.”
“But I didn’t even know Uncle Harry, and I’m sure Aunt Miriam is just some dumb old lady.”
Savannah ground her teeth. “You will show respect to Aunt Miriam, is that clear?”
“Yes. But I hate it here.”
“You’ve been here for five minutes during which time you’ve done nothing but zap zombies.”
He rolled his eyes. “Mom, Semper Fi doesn’t have any zombies. I was shooting members of the Imperial Japanese forces occupying Iwo Jima.”
Savannah stared at her son. “You know that World War Two is over and the Japanese are our allies now, right?”
Todd crossed his arms over his chest and sank back into the seat. “I’m not going to some dumb old funeral.”
“The funeral isn’t until tomorrow. And you will get your butt out of this car and go be nice to your aunt Miriam or I will put your PSP in a microwave and nuke it.”
“You wouldn’t. That would blow up the apartment and kill the microwave.”
“Don’t bet on it, kiddo.”
“If you did that Dad would buy me another one and Grandmother would yell at you.”
And that was the problem, right there.
She drew herself up into full-out mommy mode. “I don’t care what your father or grandmother might do. You are with me right now, and you will get out of this car. Right now.”
He gave her a sulky look and then opened the car door.
She did the same and stepped out into a balmy March day.
“I’ve never seen a house painted puke green and purple before,” he said.
“It’s not that bad.”
The boy wrinkled his nose in disgust. “It’s hot. Are we gonna stand here looking at it all day?”
The muscles along Savannah’s shoulders knotted, and the headache she’d been fighting since they crossed the South Carolina border was beginning to actually throb.
Just then the front door opened with a bang, and a white-haired lady wearing a blue polyester pantsuit and a pair of red Keds appeared on the porch. Dark, almost black, eyes peered at Savannah through a pair of 1960s-style spectacles festooned with rhinestones. “Well, look who just turned up pretty as a daisy. C’mon up here, sugar,” Aunt Miriam said, opening her arms.
Savannah took the rickety porch steps in two long strides and gave Aunt Miriam a bear hug.
“Oh, I’m so glad you came,” the old lady said.
Savannah pulled away and looked down at her great-aunt, noting the changes recorded in her face. Her apple cheeks now drooped a little along her jawline. Her skin looked pale and papery. Even the ever-present twinkle in her eyes was dimmed by time and sorrow. Savannah felt a sharp pang of regret that she had a
llowed so much time to elapse between visits. Aunt Miriam was getting old. Savannah wished with all her might that she could turn back the clock.
“I’m so sorry about Uncle Harry,” Savannah said.
Miriam nodded. “He was as old as dirt. And sick these last few years. I know at the end he just wanted to lay his burden down and go on home.” Her voice wavered.
Savannah gave Miriam another big hug and whispered, “I’m sure he did. But I know you would have liked him to stay awhile longer.”
Miriam pushed back and wiped a few tears from her cheeks. “Enough of this maudlin stuff. Let me see that boy of yours. Last time I saw him, he was no bigger than a minute.”
Miriam turned her gaze down into the yard where Todd slouched. Savannah’s son had assumed the preteen position—arms crossed and disinterest written all over his face.
“Hmm,” Aunt Mim said, “he’s a big boy, isn’t he?”
Savannah sighed. “Yes, he is.”
“Too bad he doesn’t live around here. I’m sure Harlan Murphy would be all over you recruiting him for Pop Warner football.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. I think Todd would make an excellent center.”
Savannah filed that information away. Todd probably had no interest in playing football. But Savannah was determined to get her son off the couch and out into the fresh air. Last Chance had lots and lots of fresh air.
“Well, son,” Miriam said with a wave, “c’mon up here and meet your old aunt Mim. I know you don’t remember me.”
The boy walked slowly up the stairs and stoically allowed himself to be hugged.
“Y’all come on in,” Aunt Miriam said, once she let Todd go. “I’ve got cookies and pie and enough food to choke a horse. The casserole brigade has been doing overtime these last few days. To be honest, I got so tired of Lillian Bray trying to take charge of my kitchen that I shooed them all away this noontime. They mean well, I suppose, but a whole day with Lillian is enough to try even the most patient of souls.”
