It Really IS a Wonderful Life: The Snowflake Falls but Hearts in Love Keep a Home Warm All Year Long

by Linda Wood Rondeau

  “I need to hear you say that you’re still my girl. Will you wear your necklace to church?”

  “If you want me to.”

  “Never mind. I thought you’d want to. Foolish of me to think so, I guess.”

  Get over it Gabe. “Look, I’ve got to go. The kids are waiting for me outside.”

  The buzz meant only one thing. Gabe had hung up.

  She looked outside. Josh waited patiently by the door while Emma leaped like a frog from one end of the back seat to the other.

  Dorie would not allow Gabe or anyone to interfere with these precious ones. They were hers—hers alone.

  ***

  Saturday morning breakfast with Pop was among the few things Jamey looked forward to since returning to Midville. How much better he and Pop got along as adults than during Jamey’s rebellious teenage years.

  Now that he’d grown up, he understood his contribution to his turbulent relationship with Pop. Maybe they’d have gotten along better if Jamey had been compliant, like his brother Mike. Everyone called him, “the good son.” Well, where was that good son now? Ironic that the prodigal came home and the faithful stayed away.

  This morning, though, Pop could barely feed himself and seemed too weak to manage the chair. “Pop, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

  He took off his oxygen cannula. “Darn thing … gets in the way.”

  “Don’t try to talk so much.”

  “Have to … son. The doctors … have done … all they can. I’ve stopped chemo.”

  How could he bear to lose Pop now, when they’d finally become friends?

  “It’s okay … I’m ready … to go. I’m worried about you.”

  “Me?”

  Pop leaned forward. “I’ve placed a … a burden on your shoulders.”

  “Don’t say that. I chose to come home. You didn’t make me.”

  “The business isn’t … for you.”

  “I’m doing fine.”

  “But your heart’s not in it, boy.”

  Jamey sighed. He’d failed Pop yet again. “Are you still sore because I majored in theater instead of business like you wanted me to?”

  “Not … any more. You’ve done me proud, Jamey. Wrong of me … to ask you to give up so much.”

  “What else could you do? You couldn’t ask Mike.”

  “Not with a wife … and kids. He’s a better … principal than a businessman.”

  The implicit stung—Pop thought teaching the more honorable profession.

  Pop’s chest heaved with another coughing spell.

  “You should rest.”

  “In a minute. Listen to me … if Junior Harwood wants the business … sell it to him.”

  Words he’d hoped to hear for so long—yet, words that soured if Pop said them against his convictions just to please Jamey. Funny how the thing you thought you most wanted turns out to be the thing you least desire.

  The tears fell as the men, father and son, embraced.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Another Sunday and late for church again. Mom waited by the vestibule door, her eyes wide with concern. “Anything wrong, Dorie? This is getting to be a habit.”

  Dorie blew out her frustration. “I overslept and the car wouldn’t start. The neighbor jumped it for me. I take it Gabe isn’t here?”

  “He’s waiting for you downstairs. He tried the house and then the cell. He said he’d go get you if you didn’t arrive within the next five minutes.”

  Dorie checked her cell. “I must have powered down.” She took Emma’s coat off while Josh shed his. He held it out like a silent command to wait on him. When no one took it, he dropped it to the floor and dashed for the steps.

  “Joshua Devon Fitzgerald. You get back here this instant.”

  He obeyed with pouted lips and shrugged shoulders.

  “Hang that up, then take your sister downstairs for practice.” Dorie placed her hands on her hips for emphasis.

  Josh picked up his coat. “Sorry.”

  Obedience without lip.

  Mom beamed with grandmotherly pride as Josh and Emma took the steps at breakneck speed. “You’re doing a fantastic job with them. I know it’s hard being both mom and dad. Children will test your mettle right into their twenties and beyond.”

  Instead of rehashing a daughter’s poor choices, Mom hid her condemnation within a pseudo-stream of challenging children, thus removing the criticism with a hundred degrees of separation. “I’ll take that under advisement. I wonder sometimes if a father figure would be best for them.”

  “And you think Dr. Wellington would be that father figure?”

  “Could be.”

  “Don’t settle for the first man to come along, dear. Trust God to choose a good husband for you. And if you have to go it alone, He’ll give you the strength and wisdom you’ll need.”

  “You’re right.” Dorie collected a hug for reassurance. “You usually are.”

  Mom glanced at the clock. “We probably haven’t missed anything yet. I don’t know why Pastor Dave can’t get to the lesson first thing. All this ‘caring and sharing’ before Sunday school is a waste of time. If Frank Burgess gives one more account of last year’s foot surgery, I think I’ll walk out.”

  “Mom? What’s really bothering you?”

  “I worry about you. Can’t a mother do that?”

  Dorie kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll be okay.”

  When they reached the Sunday school room, Dorie faked a smile and his icy glare sent shivers up her spine. She took the expected seat next to him. He leaned over and whispered, “Car trouble?”

  “I got here, didn’t I?”

  Gabe scowled, but before Dorie could ask him to explain his coldness, Pastor Dave distributed a pre-printed lesson on Genesis 17 then led the group in prayer.

  Dorie scanned the scripture references. Who would even want a first baby at Abraham and Sarah’s ages? She certainly didn’t want any more children. Her two presented enough challenges. If she married a childless man, wouldn’t he want children of his own?

  She glanced toward Gabe. Do you want babies? If she and Gabe were destined for the altar, adding more children into the mix would be a necessary topic before long. “This is way too soon.”

  Gabe leaned nearer. “What’s too soon?”

  When would she learn not to speak her thoughts to the whole world? “I said that there’s going to be a full moon.”

  Gabe scowled and Dorie felt her cheeks warm as Pastor Dave waited patiently for the side discussion to end.

  “Moving on,” Pastor Dave continued, “Abraham listened to Sarah’s idea to provide him with a legal heir. And after Ishmael’s birth, Abraham planned for his son’s future, as any father would.”

  The discussion ran the gamut of Abraham’s spiritual ups and downs. Pastor Dave suggested Ishmael might have been a detour rather than God’s first choice. Gabe crossed his right leg over his left knee. “God blessed Ishmael too.”

  “Yes, but Ishmael was not the son of promise. Sometimes God blesses our mistakes, although the consequences can have far-reaching results. In the case of Ishmael, the conflict reached across the ages to the current Middle East crisis.”

  The Middle East crisis that left her a widow. Where were You, God? Why did You let Devon die!

  A sigh that came from deep within left her feeling comforted, as if a pleasant breeze stirred the topmost branches of her soul. Then the still, small voice came to her at last.

  Devon mattered to me. You matter to me. Trust me with the rest of your life.

  I will, Lord. What about Gabe?

  Gabe is an Ishmael.

  While the rest of the class argued the benefits of immediate obedience, Dorie finally prayed, surrendering her widowhood to God. A firm conviction settled over her that whatever plan God had for her did not include Dr. Gabriel Wellington. She thumbed her necklace, supposedly given to her without condition, yet the expectations obvious.

  How can I end it, God?

 
***

  Dinner seemed as if it would never be finished. The kids dawdled over their plates, distracted by Gabe’s jokes and silly songs. They liked him. Wouldn’t they be disappointed when he stopped coming over?

  She’d served pot roast, one of the few dishes she could cook without throwing it in the garbage and ordering takeout. Though she barely touched a bite, everyone else’s plate was picked clean.

  “A kiss-the-cook supper,” Gabe said. He got up from the table.

  “I should pick up the kitchen.”

  “It can wait.” He pulled her to a stand and embraced her.

  She pushed him away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We’ll talk later.”

  “We’ll talk now. Kids, go on upstairs for quiet time.”

  “Oh, man.” Josh, with chin to his chest, stomped upstairs and slammed his door.

  Emma trailed behind at a snail’s pace.

  Dorie blew her a reassuring kiss. “I’ll be up in a little while, sweetie.”

  Gently guiding her into the living room, Gabe sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. Ignoring his hint, Dorie sat in the recliner. Tears stung her eyes. Why was this so hard? Was this how Abraham felt when he sent Ishmael away?

  His piercing gaze told her he suspected the rejection to come. And yet, those delicious eyes, his wit—was she doing the right thing? “What’s wrong? You aren’t still mad at me for acting stupid yesterday, are you?”

  Lord, I can’t do this. “It’s not that.”

  He wrung his hands. “You’re not the only one scared by what’s happening between us.”

  Dorie moved to the couch, sat next to Gabe. “I’ve been selfish. I didn’t realize our relationship confused you too.”

  “I almost got married once. I was frightened and called it off. But my feelings for Gwen were nothing compared to how I feel about you. I love you. Don’t tell me you’re about to step on my heart.”

  Please, God, keep me strong to do Your will. Dorie removed the necklace, the emblem of his affection, and placed it in his palm.

  His sigh clawed at her resolve. “During Sunday school, I knew you were wrestling with our future. This is not what I hoped for.”

  Gabe could be a bit overbearing with the children, yet they responded to him. She had to admit they were better behaved with him around. He would make a good father for them. Mom’s wisdom never failed. Dorie should first find someone right for her.

  “I like you, Gabe. I don’t agree with the way you discipline them at times, but they like you. If we continued dating, I’d eventually fall in love with you. And yes, we probably would get married. And we might even make it work.”

  “Then why are you breaking up with me?”

  “I don’t think this is God’s plan for either of us.”

  Gabe dropped the necklace into his shirt pocket. “It’s because I acted like a jerk yesterday. Can’t you forgive me?”

  “Yes, you were a jerk. And yes, I’ve forgiven you. That’s not the issue.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “You and I are meant to travel different roads. It won’t work, no matter how much we force it. Does anything I’m telling you make sense?”

  “No. I don’t understand and I never will. But I can tell I won’t be able to change your mind. So I guess I’d better leave.” His knees creaked as he slowly rose, his walk across the carpet to the door like a slow-motion replay. She didn’t dare go to him. If he tried to kiss her, she would convince herself she should take back the necklace and all it implied.

  When the door thudded shut, her heart bled. Gabe’s attentions had resuscitated feelings she thought had died with Devon. Now she was alone again—a different kind of loneliness. Clouds covered her future. Would the sun ever shine again?

  As always, whenever storms frightened her, she sought strength from her children, living lessons of resiliency and hope. She headed upstairs and peeked in on Emma who was sound asleep. Dorie fell to her knees beside her daughter’s bed and listened to her breathe. With each soft sigh, Dorie vowed to be the best mother possible—even if she sailed solo.

  Will you be there with me, God?

  Every step of the way, child. And even when you’re standing still.

  A confidence filled her, a conviction that goodness she could barely imagine waited around the corner. As she pondered her new possibilities, Boomer scratched at the back door. Lord, subdue Boomer for a few minutes. I want to stay in this holy place a little longer.

  The scratching subsided and Dorie stretched out next to Emma, praying until she could no longer keep her eyes open.

  She woke to slobbering licks on her arms and legs. As her eyes focused, Boomer lifted her hand with his nose. She rubbed him behind his ears. “How did you get in?”

  “I let him in.” Josh leaned against the doorframe.

  Emma jumped into bed with Dorie. “Are you all slept out, Mommy?”

  “I think so. What have you guys been up to?”

  Emma giggled as she patted Dorie’s hair. “Mr. Bear and I helped Josh build a fort with his new Legos. And I didn’t throw up this time.”

  Inspiration kicked her senses. “Anyone up for a marathon of Candy Land and Chutes and Ladders?”

  “Yeppers—I mean, yes.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon traversing through imaginary swamps and sugary landscapes, sliding, climbing, and scooting around game boards.

  Dorie had the best time of her life.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Monday … a new set of challenges. She’d planned every detail of the morning to assure that dog and kids would be fed, everyone dressed, and beds made. Then she’d drop Emma off at her mother’s and take Josh to school.

  She hit the alarm at 5:45. But the bed felt so warm, she lingered a few extra minutes. She took two deep breaths and pushed herself toward the day, taking a brief moment to look out the window. A thick blanket from last night’s snowfall covered the ground. She opened the door for Boomer, who scooted back inside, the frigid air biting like a hundred mosquitos.

  She nudged Josh awake and felt the warm, wet sheets. She hadn’t factored an extra wash load into the equation of a hectic morning. She scurried to put the linen in the washing machine, then rushed to wake up Emma, who stood in front of her mirror dressed in Dorie’s skirt, makeup smeared across her face. Nor had she counted on Emma’s impromptu theatrics.

  “Emma, these are not the clothes you were supposed to put on. Remember? You’re going to go see your school today?”

  Dorie ushered Emma into the bathroom for a quick repair and handed her the pink pant suit Dorie had selected the night before. While Emma dressed, Dorie checked on Josh, who crawled on all fours.

  “Mom, I can’t find my sneakers.”

  Boomer’s bark at the kitchen door bellowed throughout the house.

  Now what?

  When Dorie let him out, he pawed through a snow drift and came back in the house with Josh’s sneakers dangling from his mouth. Dorie threw them in the dryer.

  She corralled the children for breakfast, and while they ate, she prepared Josh’s backpack for his day. She pulled out a crumpled paper. Great! Josh was supposed to bring a treat for a school party today. Now she’d have to make a stop at the store. She’d be horribly late. On her first day too.

  When finally in the car, proud that she remembered to put Boomer into the cellar, she buckled her seatbelt and turned the key. Nothing.

  “Out of the car, kids. We have to come up with Plan B.”

  Josh giggled. “That means you’re gonna call Grandpa.”

  Too smart for his own good.

  Back inside the house, she motioned for the children to sit on the couch while she called her parents.

  “Good morning.” Normally, Dorie thrived on Mom’s cheerfulness. Not today.

  “I’m not having a good morning. My car won’t start. Could you come and get us? I’ll get a new battery tonight. Would Daddy put it in for me?”


  “As soon as the phone rang, your father put on his coat and walked out the door. He predicted you’d be in a fix.”

  She was four years old again, having to run to Mommy and Daddy with the silliest of problems—one that could have been avoided if she’d listened to his advice in the first place. “Will you pick me up for Emma’s interview at daycare?”

  “Of course.”

  Daddy arrived and signaled the kids out the door. “Let’s go. Your mother’s running behind schedule.”

  Like baby partridges, the kids and Dorie waddled behind Daddy to his car. He drove the first mile in silence.

  Is this what I can expect every day, Lord?

  The answer bloomed in her heart.

  You planned your morning with great diligence but forgot the most important aspect. Me.

  “Forgive me, please.”

  “Already have,” Daddy said. She’d spoken to a different Father. Good to know she’d earned forgiveness from her earthly one as well. “I’ll jump the car and then take it in for a new battery and tune-up this morning. Probably have them put on new tires too. As soon as your play’s over, we’re going shopping for a four-wheel drive. If you want, you can keep Devon’s car in our garage until you’re ready to part with it. No more discussion on the matter.”

  She wanted to rebel as she had done since she moved to Midville. Not today. Today she felt her love in his stubbornness. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “For what?”

  “For being you.”

  He scowled at the compliment. “Your mother will pick you up for Emma’s orientation. Okay?”

  She couldn’t resist. “’Kay.”

  Daddy pulled into the back parking lot of Bargains Galore two minutes before eight. Dorie handed him her car keys and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Reaching into the back, she hugged the children.

  Now, if she could only survive the next four hours.

  Chapter Nineteen

  At the alarm’s blare, Jamey raced to the back of the store. Dorie panted while she inserted the key every which way but right. He stifled his laugh and let her in, then punched the security code to stop the alarm before it automatically rang at the police station. “Right on time.”