The Christmas Train

by Rexanne Becnel

  Anna nodded, then wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “It’s okay,” she said to him. “You go in.” Then she smiled, a trembling, hopeful smile. “Tell her I’ll visit her after a while.” She paused, then added, “Dad.”

  A huge smile filled Tom’s face. His whole world had turned upside down in the best possible way, and he felt like his real life was finally starting. Joelle was miraculously here. And Anna, this adorable, fragile, bighearted little girl, was his now. His to raise, and his to love. He headed toward Eva’s room, joy bubbling up inside him. Inside, the machines attached to Miss Eva were back to their normal rhythms, the colored lines marching in irregular lockstep across the monitor’s screen. To his surprise, her eyes were open.

  “Eva?” He ventured closer. She lay as still as death. Yet the hiccups of the monitor attested to life. “Eva?”

  She blinked, then tilted her head slightly to see him better. At once the monitor kicked up with the effort it took her to do anything more strenuous than breathe.

  “Hi, there. You doing okay?” His eyes flicked from her to the monitor and back again. “You gave us a pretty good scare just now.”

  She let out a sigh that turned into a dry, rattling cough. “I . . . I was scared, too.”

  Tom swallowed hard. How did it feel to know you were probably dying? And how did you comfort someone in Eva’s situation? One thing he knew, he would never again take even one day of his life for granted.

  He lowered himself into the chair beside her bed and placed one hand over hers. “You’re in good hands here. I like the doctors and nurses.”

  “Ja. They are nice. I am not afraid here.”

  He cocked his head. Scared but not afraid? She was obviously confused.

  As if she followed his thoughts she smiled. “This is a good place.” She paused for another breath. “When I was afraid, that was long ago. Back in the war.”

  So she was clearheaded right now, remembering the past but rooted in the present. He shifted a little closer to her. “Miss Eva, I need your advice. Are you up for that?”

  Her eyes brightened and her smile widened to display a hint of dimples, revealing the pretty young woman she’d once been. “I know. You worry about Anna, yes?”

  “Yes.” He nodded in surprise. “I want to be a good father to her, to make up for the years I wasn’t around.”

  “You love her?”

  He hesitated. Then, “Yes. Yes, I think I do. But . . . I don’t know how to do this. And my parents—” He broke off.

  “Ja? Your parents? You have a good father and mother?”

  “The best. The thing is, they want Anna to live with them.”

  Her pale brows drew together. “No. You are the father. They are the Oma and Opa.” She broke into a cough that seemed to exhaust her. Her eyelids drifted down. “You will be a good father.”

  He stayed beside her, considering her words as she slept. He would do it, make a home with Anna. And hopefully he would have Joelle with him. But if he ever weakened in his resolve, he had only to think about this tiny little woman lying in front of him. She understood the value of family, of love and responsibility and the devastating repercussions of losing the people you most loved. If Eva could search to the last days of her life for the family she loved, then he could damn well do the same.

  “Thank you, Miss Eva.” He stood, then pressed a light kiss to her forehead. She’d slid into his life by accident, just a day or two to know each other. But he’d never forget her.

  He was about to leave the room when the nurse came in. After a glance at her patient and then the monitor, she turned to him. “How was she?”

  “Actually she was pretty clear. We talked, and for once she didn’t confuse me with her brother, Karl.”

  “Really? I’m surprised. Unfortunately she’ll probably slip more and more into her past as she declines.”

  “But she could recover, at least from her lung infection. Couldn’t she?”

  “I suppose anything is possible.” She hesitated a moment. “I know you’re not family, but I think you should know that we just received a fax from her personal physician. Her son called him and asked him to forward his mother’s medical records to us. Among them was an Advanced Directive.” She said that with an odd inflection in her voice.

  “What does that mean?”

  She held out a placard to him. “It means I have to post this DNR order above her bed. “Do not resuscitate.”

  “What?” Tom’s heart leaped in his chest. “You mean you’re just going to let her die?”

  The nurse’s gaze never wavered from his. “It means she decided some time ago exactly how she wanted to be treated as her life came to an end.”

  “So . . . so you just let her die.”

  “What we do is follow the patient’s wishes. Some people include more restrictive treatment options in their Advanced Directive if they also suffer from Alzheimer’s or other types of dementia. It’s a quality-of-life issue. She’s now officially under hospice care. And as per her wishes, all we can do is administer medicines for pain or discomfort.”

  “But what about her son? Is she going to—” He broke off, looked down at Eva, and then lowered his voice. “Is she going to die before he gets here?”

  The nurse smiled at him, then gently adjusted the sheet covering her. “I hope not. But . . . she might. It’s not our call anymore.”

  It’s not our call anymore.

  It was hard for Tom to keep the worry out of his face when Anna came in to see Eva.

  “Darn, she’s asleep.”

  “We can come back later,” he told her. “But for now she needs to rest.”

  Anna looked up at him, anxiety plain on her little face. “But what if all those beepers start going off again? What if she . . . you know . . .”

  “Dies?” Joelle said when Tom couldn’t force himself to say the word.

  Anna looked over at her and gave a tiny nod. “Yeah. Like Nana Rose. Is she going to die, too?”

  Joelle’s gaze locked with Tom’s as she waited for him to respond to Anna this time. And as clearly as if Eva had said them aloud, he heard the echo of the old woman’s words. You are the father.

  He squatted in front of Anna. “She may die, Anna. In fact, she probably will. But . . . I think she’s ready to go. To be with her husband.”

  “And with Karl?” Anna said, her eyes huge in her face. “He’s not here in Ennis, is he?”

  “I don’t think so. He and her parents probably died a long time ago, most likely in Germany during the war.”

  Anna was silent a long while. “It made her happy when she thought you were Karl.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, it seemed like it did.”

  She gave him a small smile of approval. “That was nice, that you pretended for her.”

  Joelle smiled, too, and Tom saw her blink back tears. “That’s because deep inside,” she said, “your father is a big softy.”

  “I’m beginning to figure that out.” Then Anna sat down on the chair next to Eva’s bed. “I want to stay with her for a little while, okay? Just in case she wakes up. Why don’t you two go have coffee or something?”

  “Are you sure?” Tom asked. “It’s been a long day, and tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, probably another long day. After we go to my mother’s Santa Supper, I thought we might go with them to midnight mass.”

  “Midnight mass?” Anna’s eyes got big and she sat up straighter. “Nana Rose and I always used to go to midnight mass on Christmas Eve.”

  “You did?”

  “Of course.” She pursed her lips and folded her hands primly. “And I would have gone to St. Peter’s Catholic School except Nana Rose couldn’t afford it.”

  Tom couldn’t help grinning. “So, do you want to go to Catholic school here?” When she hesitated he added, “I can afford it.”

  She wa
nted to. He could see the sparkle of excitement in her eyes. But all she said was “I think Nana Rose would like that.” Then with one hand she shooed him away. “Go have coffee. I want to talk to Miss Eva. In private.”

  Once outside the door, Tom and Joelle shared a look.

  “Wow, she’s really something,” Joelle began.

  “You like her?”

  “Oh, yes. Very much.”

  “So . . . am I forgiven?”

  “No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You are so not forgiven.”

  He paused. “But eventually I will be, right?”

  She looked away, and for an endlessly terrifying moment he thought she was going to say no, that she would never be able to forgive his massive lie. Or his neglecting this innocent child for ten long years.

  But then she sighed and slanted her eyes at him. “Eventually,” she said.

  It took all his willpower not to swing her up in his arms and shout with joy. “And eventually,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion, “eventually you will marry me, won’t you, Joelle?” He held his breath then added, “Please say yes, Joelle. Please say you’ll marry me.”

  IN Miss Eva’s hospital room Anna crept on silent feet to the door. Had her father just proposed to Joelle? She couldn’t see them, so she pressed her ear to the narrow gap between the door and the jamb. She liked Joelle, so far. But Anna had just found her father, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to share him with anybody just yet.

  “I have been so ready for you to ask me that,” Anna heard Joelle answer in a voice that shook. “And I’d hoped that this Christmas you’d have a ring for me.” She paused and cleared her throat. “Surely you’ve known for ages that I would say yes.”

  “So . . . so are you saying yes now?” Anna could hear the hope and love in his voice. Love for Joelle.

  “Were you planning to ask me to marry you this Christmas?”

  There was a long silence, broken only by the ordinary hospital sounds. Machines whirring; voices murmuring; the squeak of the meal cart rolling up the hall. Then, “No.” Her father’s voice was low and miserable. “I hadn’t planned on popping the question.”

  Anna sucked in a sharp breath. Bad answer, Dad. And suddenly she wanted Joelle to marry him. Wanted it in the worst way. A father and a mother, just like Miss Eva had when she was a little girl.

  “I see,” Joelle said. “So you’re asking me now because why? Because you’re afraid of raising Anna alone? That’s not very reassuring. You can hire a nanny for that.”

  “No. No. You’ve got it all wrong. Anna showing up is part of it, but not in the way you think. Because of her and Miss Eva—especially Miss Eva—I realize what a terrible fool I’ve been. How much I’ve taken for granted. Not just you,” he admitted. “Everybody, starting with Anna, but also my parents. Miss Eva lost her parents, her brother, and probably everyone else in her family, and she’s out here sixty years later looking for them still. I don’t care if she’s confused about what year it is or where she’s going, or that sometimes she thinks I’m her brother, Karl. She loves them so much that she’s never given up on them. Never.” He paused, breathing so hard Anna could hear it. “And then there’s me.”

  Anna couldn’t help herself. She pulled the door open just enough to see them standing a few feet away. Joelle looked like she was about to cry. Her eyes were wide and her chin was trembling. Although Anna couldn’t see her father’s face, she felt every bit of the emotion in his voice.

  “I’ve been a stupid, selfish bastard, Joelle. I’ve taken every good thing in my life for granted. Like . . . like I deserved it or something, when the truth is, I just got lucky. So you see, honey, I’m not asking you to marry me because I need help raising Anna. My dad already told me I’m not up to the task and that Anna should live with them. And I almost stupidly agreed to it. It was only anger that stopped me.”

  Anna could barely see through her tears. He already wanted to get rid of her.

  “The thing is,” he continued in a hoarse voice, “I can’t do that—let her go home with them. If I don’t raise my daughter myself, I’ll be missing out on the greatest gift God gives us: a child to love. I love Anna. It shocks me to realize how rock-solid true those words are. I love her, and I will do whatever it takes to give her the best life I can. And I want you in that life because . . . because I love you, too. You know that, don’t you? How much I love you?”

  Even through her tears, Anna could see Joelle nod her head.

  “I want to marry you, Joelle. And I want to raise Anna with you—and any other children we might have—because that’s the best life I can imagine living. It’s the life I want to share with you, if you’ll still have me.”

  Anna caught her breath, waiting for Joelle’s answer, terrified she might say no. Then, like a dam breaking, Joelle burst into tears and fell into his arms. From farther down the hall Anna heard a startled laugh, and then someone clapping approval. She wasn’t the only one eavesdropping.

  But she was the only one who’d just gotten a father and a mother for Christmas.

  She wanted so badly to run to them, to squirm between them for another sandwich kiss—but she’d get her turn later.

  So she eased the door closed, then hugging her happiness to her, she went back to Miss Eva. She remembered what the hospice workers had told her the one time her mother let her visit Nana Rose in the hospice ward. Talk to her. Let her know how much you love her.

  Propping her forearms on the bed rail, she rested her chin on her folded hands. “Guess what, Miss Eva. My dad is getting married. So I’ll have a new father and a new mother. And it’s mainly because of you.”

  Miss Eva sighed but made no real response.

  Anna tilted her head to rest her cheek on the top of her hands. “It’s kind of like you gave me a Christmas present. Only maybe you won’t be here to see how good it turns out.”

  Anna closed her eyes, oddly comforted by the regular sound from the medical machines. “But if you go to heaven, which I know you will, ’cause you’re so nice, plus that war was like you already went to hell, at least for a little while. But anyway, in heaven you’ll get to see your parents and your husband, and probably Karl is there, too. And Nana Rose.”

  Anna’s eyes popped open, and she lifted her head. “If you see Nana Rose, will you tell her how much I love her? I mean, she already knows I do. But . . . tell her anyway, okay?”

  As if she’d heard her, Miss Eva’s face lifted in a faint smile. “Papa.”

  Anna held her breath as Miss Eva’s eyelids fluttered. “Mutti,” she murmured as if in happy greeting. “Und mein Karl. Und Paul.”

  Then her lids fell still, her lashes rested on her cheeks, and she seemed almost to melt into the bed. “Hello,” she whispered on a sigh. “You must be . . . Nana Rose.”

  And as Anna stared at her in utter shock, Miss Eva’s monitor fell silent.

  THE car was quiet on the ride back from midnight mass. Anna and her father had gone to St. Francis Church and sat in a pew with Nesta and Mr. Nesta, as well as Joelle and her new aunt Sarah and uncle Sal. Now, in the front seat, Anna’s father’s right hand clasped Joelle’s on the center console. Anna rested in the backseat in the embrace of soft leather, warm air, and the soothing sounds of “The Little Drummer Boy” coming from the radio. In her lap she clutched the snow globe they’d bought for Miss Eva.

  How could someone be alive one minute, and then not alive the next? It was hard to understand.

  One very nice thing had happened. Miss Eva’s son had called them when he got back to America. Even though his mother had died before he got home, he thanked Anna and her dad for being so nice to her. Then Anna had asked him about Karl.

  “We’re pretty sure he died in the war just like my grandparents,” he’d told her. “It took my father a long time to get the details about my grandparents. But for Uncle Karl there was no
written record of his death. Still, we found out where he’d been fighting and we knew there had been a lot of casualties there. And then there was never any record of him after the war.”

  “So that’s why Miss Eva was still looking for him,” Anna had said.

  “I think you’re right, Anna. And now she’s with them all.”

  And with my Nana Rose.

  Anna hadn’t been with Nana Rose when she died; her mother wouldn’t take her back to the hospice ward because she said it creeped her out with all those old dying people. But Anna had loved her Nana Rose. And even though she hadn’t known Miss Eva for very long, she loved her, too.

  She turned the snow globe upside down and shook it, then held it up really close to her face and watched the snow swirl and fall and settle on the little train engine. Real snow fell and then eventually melted away. People came into your life, then, in their own way, they melted away, too.

  But maybe not all the way.

  Miss Eva had seen Nana Rose, and that meant Nana Rose wasn’t really gone. And neither was Miss Eva.

  Maybe the people you loved never were all the way gone.

  She shook the globe again, squinting in the dim light, imagining Eva as a little girl, waving at a train just like this one as it passed by her house, a house with a Christmas tree that she decorated with her parents and her beloved brother, Karl.

  After her father parked, they made their way through the crisp cold that seemed so perfect for Christmas Eve. Her dad held one of her hands, Joelle held the other. Another perfect thing.

  “Can I open one of my presents tonight.” She looked up at her dad. “Please?”

  His eyebrows came together in one worried line. “A present? But . . . um . . . you see . . .” Totally flustered, he looked to Joelle for help.

  Anna grinned and decided to let him off the hook. “Don’t worry. I know who Santa really is.”

  Relief flooded his face, but he immediately turned stern. “What do you mean? Don’t you believe in Santa Claus?”

  She started to tell him that she wasn’t a baby anymore, then stopped. She’d pretended for Nana Rose’s sake. She could do the same for him. “Of course I believe in Santa. But I know he has helpers. Like Nana Rose. She had a present for me all wrapped up with pretty Christmas paper and a big red ribbon. I found it when we cleaned out her house.”