Project Scrooge

by A M Heath

I watched, my heart aching something fierce, as Natalie’s gaze once again wandered to me and Kelly before she turned away, a pained smile on her face.

  Granny turned it off. Without a word, she dropped the remote into my lap and walked out of the room.

  I leaned my elbow against the armrest of the recliner and rubbed my beard. There were two things I now had to confront in my understanding: Kelly had always been a cheat, and Natalie had displayed a faithful love that I wasn’t even aware of. One that I didn’t even deserve.

  My stomach soured. Even now, she had been faithful, trying to show me how my bitterness was destroying me. And somehow along the way, I shifted the blame to her shoulders, as if I didn’t really know her at all.

  Natalie:

  Ms. Carol called every single day after the blowup at her house. And every day she begged me to come visit with her and the kids. I finally gave in and agreed to stop by for a movie and a snack before Sanford was due to arrive. I wasn’t ready to see him. And I had a feeling he wasn’t ready to see me.

  Home Alone was over, and a quick look at the time told me I needed to leave soon. I plucked up the chip bowl from the end table and stood to carry it back into the kitchen.

  “How do you fit into their family? Are you a distant cousin or something?” Mia asked with a head tilt.

  I paused in the middle of the room and considered her. I thought she had known by now. I shook my head. “No. But I’ve been a close friend to the family since I was about your age.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “In fact, the three of us have a great deal in common.”

  Mia looked surprised. “How so?”

  Hunter gulped down the last of his Sprite. “She’s been orphaned like me, and she visits almost daily like you.”

  I only nodded.

  “And Sanford really wasn’t such a grouch back then?”

  I smiled and settled back into my seat, holding the bowl in my lap. “Not at all. He was a really fun kid.” It didn’t take much to provoke a fond memory or a smiling Sanford to mind.

  “Were you always friends?”

  “No. We had a project together.” I paused, then smirked. “A project for A Christmas Carol, actually. We had to decorate a poster and bake something that the characters could have eaten. I had just moved to that school and was paired up with Sanford. He suggested that I ride the bus home with him so we could come here and work on the project with his granny. So I did, and we just hit it off. I started coming home with him every day and walking over here with him after school.” I paused and jutted my thumb toward Sanford’s place. “You know, his parents lived in his house and left it to Sanford when they passed on.”

  Hunter nodded, although his memory of his grandparents had to be rather fuzzy, if he remembered anything about them at all.

  “Didn’t your parents mind that you were always over here and never at home?”

  I sent Mia a smile that cost me more than she knew.

  Hunter rolled his eyes. “She didn’t have any parents, remember?”

  Mia huffed. “She had somebody to take care of her.”

  “I did.” I pulled in a deep breath and tried again.

  Hunter dropped his eyes to his empty coke can. “Leave her alone, Mia. Some people don’t like to talk about the past.”

  My heart went out to him and warmed at his concern. “It’s okay. She’s only curious. And I don’t mind talking about it, Hunter.” I drew in another breath, this time prepared to share my story.

  “You come over, Mia, because your folks work too late in the afternoons. But my situation was a little different. My dad had left when I was only a baby, and then my mom died when I was ten. I went to live with my aunt, but I only stayed for a few months. Her husband didn’t want me to stay permanently. He felt like they had too many kids in the house to start with, so they called a social worker.

  “And they moved me to Garland to live with a nice family. That’s when I met Sanford. But I kept switching houses until I was fifteen.”

  “How come?”

  I met Mia’s bulging eyes and sent her a smile that I feared looked shattered.

  “I wasn’t a troublemaker or anything. But some of the kids I was with … had more needs than I did. I just kinda faded into the background, and the foster parents would feel guilty because they couldn’t focus on me like they meant to.”

  “Why didn’t they just get rid of the ones causing the problems? That seems like the fair thing to do.”

  “They felt that they were making progress and didn’t want to lose that. Since these other children struggled more with their placement families, they didn’t want to move them if they had someone breaking through. Since I was considered an easy case, they assumed I would be a good fit anywhere.”

  My lip quivered despite my attempt to appear unfazed.

  This time both sets of eyes dropped before slowly lifting back up.

  “I still think that was pretty rotten of them,” Hunter said, looking me square in the eyes with the same look of protectiveness that I used to see in Sanford.

  I wagged my head. “Don’t think that. It was the right choice for those kids. I’m not angry at them. It’s important for a child to feel like someone has their back for a change. And it was good for them. But … it’s also hard to feel like you’re not wanted. Being pushed from home to home was hard on me. Then I moved in with the Stellers. They were nice, but it still never felt like home. I came here most afternoons, and, when I didn’t, they looked at me like they didn’t know what to do with me … which in turn only made me come here even more often.” Even after Sanford started dating Kelly and no longer had time for me.

  Sanford:

  Even after I started dating Kelly and no longer had time for her.

  It was an unspoken thought, but it hung in the air and held a tight grip on my chest all the same.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, this revelation piling on top of the one from the video. I leaned the back of my head against the wall and waited. No one had heard me enter through the kitchen door, and now I regretted standing in the house at all.

  “Sanford! What are you doing standing there?”

  I jerked upright at the sound of Granny’s voice. The very loud sound of Granny’s voice.

  There was a shuffling coming from the living room that told me they had heard it too.

  I licked my lips and shrugged both weighted shoulders. “I’m here for cocoa and whatever else you’ve got planned.”

  Granny’s smile lit up the room, but it couldn’t quite reach my heart. It, too, was still wrapped up in what I’d overheard. I strained to hear if Natalie was rushing out the front door or not, but it didn’t open.

  “Well, come on,” she waved, ushering me into the living room.

  I eyed everyone, giving passing greetings until I saw Natalie. There I stayed glued, but she didn’t look my way. Her flaming cheeks were telling, though.

  “Wh-what are we doing today, Granny?” Hunter asked. He drummed his fingers on his knees, just as anchored by the awkwardness in the room as everyone else was. Everyone except Granny, who clearly had no idea what she had just walked in on.

  “We’re watching It’s a Wonderful Life and cooking dinner together.”

  I nodded, not caring what we did. I kept looking at Natalie, but she had yet to look at me. How was I supposed to make things right between us if she wouldn’t even give me a chance? It wasn’t like Natalie to keep her distance, even when I preferred it. She had always sought me out with hope dripping from her countenance. But now, nothing. It was as if she truly had released me. My body flushed as a weight dropped in my stomach.

  Granny slid her eyes over each of us, assessing the scene. I could see the unasked questions in her eyes. “Let’s get started on dinner.”

  Natalie passed Mia a chip bowl as the kids scurried passed and into the kitchen, but I hung back, hoping to catch Natalie.

  She turned her back to me and picked up her purse, then strode to the coa
t rack beside the door.

  “You’re leaving?”

  She nodded, grabbing her coat off the hook.

  My mouth dried as she slipped one arm, then the second, into the sleeves of her festive red coat.

  I scowled, shifting my weight.

  She slipped her purse strap over one shoulder and dug out her keys, each second screaming at me to stop her before it was too late.

  Natalie reached for the doorknob.

  “You can stay, you know.”

  I watched the exhale of her breath deflate her shoulders. Then she pivoted to me, hand still on the knob. “No, I can’t.”

  Her words struck hard in my chest, but I only stood there.

  She turned away first, but I stopped her again.

  “You’re not even going to say goodbye?”

  She cast me a stiff smile from over her shoulder. “Goodbye.”

  It stung. Stung hard and deep. I took one step forward. “I meant the others. You’re not going to tell them all goodbye?”

  I watched her closely. It wasn’t like her not to give a round of hugs and kisses before she left. This wasn’t like her at all. And I hated to think that I had brought her to this cold, lonely place. She certainly deserved better. She, of all people, deserved better.

  Natalie eyed the doorway leading to the kitchen and then turned back to me. “They knew I would be leaving.” She opened the door and slipped through. Not once looking back.

  I stood and watched her leave.

  “It’s important for a child to feel like someone has their back for a change. But … it’s also hard to feel like you’re not wanted. Being pushed from home to home was hard on me.”

  The memory of her admission stormed my heart. Surely she knew she was wanted here. So why did she still leave?

  “Why didn’t you tell her she was wanted? That you wanted her to stay?”

  The silent word of wisdom struck hard at my heart.

  I swallowed at the lump in my throat and shook my head. But the impression the Holy Spirit left on my heart wouldn’t leave. And I learned that He was much more effective than any of Dickens’ ghosts.

  I stood in my quiet home before my tree, staring at nothing in particular. I fingered the popcorn strand, evidently the work of the Ghost of Christmas Past. They were a clever bunch, I’d give them that much.

  I had prayed over the last few days about these things my “ghosts” had brought to my attention. I hadn’t realized I was bitter. Everyone said it. But I didn’t fully understand it until Viola spoke to me. It was just like she had said. I was hurting. I had been the victim. Kelly kept me dangling on a hook for six whole years. I had no idea she would leave me before the wedding or that she was likely cheating on me during our college years since we attended different schools. And to think that the kids in my high school knew what she was like the whole time. It was embarrassing to say the least.

  But at the time of Kelly’s betrayal, all I felt was the pain she inflicted. Thanks to Viola, I was just now understanding how deeply the bitterness flowed. I had thought it was just my way of dealing with the hurt. But as it turned out, I hadn’t dealt with it very well at all. Christ demanded that we forgive and that we turn our pain and our anger over to Him. I hadn’t done that. But I was in the process of learning to forgive Kelly. It was turning into a moment by moment act to forgive, just as Viola had warned me.

  Then there was Natalie. I had once been so enamored with Kelly that I hadn’t seen what was right in front of me concerning either woman. I saw Natalie’s heartfelt concern for me as jealousy on her part, when nothing could have been further than the truth. And just like with Kelly, I had concealed my pain with justified anger and protective bitterness.

  But my anger wasn’t always justified.

  And my bitterness didn’t protect me. It wounded me instead.

  Christ stood ready to forgive me for these things, but I had to question whether or not Natalie would. I had hurt her every bit as much as Kelly had hurt me, but she had borne it with patience. A patience I longed to mimic in the future. But just because she was there yesterday didn’t mean she would be today, and I’d have no one to blame but myself if she weren’t. If her behavior the other night was any indication, her patient hope was fading fast.

  Stave Five

  Yes! And the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the time before him was his own to make amends in!

  Natalie:

  I crossed my kitchen and poured hot water into my teacup. It was Christmas Eve, and, as much as I treasured the day, both for its meaning and its traditions, I couldn’t shake the depressing spirit that weighed me down like Marley’s chains.

  My heart uttered another prayer for Sanford. I hadn’t heard from him since I walked out of Ms. Carol’s house two days ago. And I hadn’t been back to Ms. Carol’s, either. That fact pierced my heart just as strongly. I missed her and the kids. And even though I had grown accustomed to the aching hole Sanford left behind, seeing him every day for three weeks had left me yearning for him even more than the first time he had shut me out.

  I curled up in my chair before my tree and stared at the lights. Since I had revealed our roles as Christmas Ghosts, I had spent time in prayer, repenting for running ahead. As it turned out, I wasn’t a fixer. God was. My role was to guide. But just like with my patients, I couldn’t force Sanford. And I had brought a measure of that heartache on myself for thinking that I could change him where the Holy Spirit hadn’t. It wasn’t my job to be his conviction. It was my job to be his friend.

  Just thinking of the word “friend” made my heart seize. I missed him. My Lord, please help me to be content with my lot in life. Help me to find my joy in You and not in anyone or anything else. I took a sip of my tea, half-wishing I was drinking cocoa instead.

  My heart will rejoice in You.

  I eyed my empty little home. Oh, Lord, You created us for companionship as well. Please fill that hole in my life again.

  I continued in this way until the wrinkles on my forehead melted away and a sweet peace rolled into my soul.

  A pounding on my door jolted me from my silent contemplation. The fist pounded again.

  I put my cup and saucer down on the table a little too hard and reached for my phone. Swallowing, I edged closer to the door so I could see through the peephole.

  I hadn’t even reached the door when a shout came from the other side. “Spirit! Hear me!”

  The tension in my shoulders fell away. “Sanford?”

  I flipped on the porch light and peeked out through the curtain instead. When I spotted him, I hastened to the door and opened it for him.

  Sanford stood at my door in a pair of red pajamas. The bottoms were flannel fleece, but the top was only a red long-sleeved cotton. His cheeks and nose were pink from the frigid night air.

  “Sanford, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you call? You scared me half to death.”

  A slight smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Answer me one question.”

  “Sure. Do you want to come in first? It’s cold outside.”

  I opened the door wider, and Sanford crossed the threshold, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are these the shadows of the things that will be, or are they shadows of the things that may be, only?”

  “What?” And then it hit me. A Christmas Carol. I pressed a hand to my heart.

  “I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse.” He reached for my hand and cut the distance between us by half. “Why show me this, Natalie, if I am past all hope?”

  I gave him a trembling smile.

  He caressed my cheek. “Good Spirit, your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life.”

  I blinked back my tears.

  Sanford drew closer still and gave me a lingering kiss on my forehead. “I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the
year. I will live in the past, the present, and the future … and I will strive to love and cherish you as you deserve.”

  I broke into a wide grin. “I don’t think that’s what Dickens wrote.”

  Sanford shrugged. “He would have … if Ebeneezer had been given another chance with Belle.” He sent me a pleading look. “Am I too late?”

  A tear trailed one side of my face as I gave a tiny shake of my head.

  His shoulders visibly relaxed. “I … have been an idiot. I can’t even begin to–”

  I raised up and interrupted him with a kiss on the lips.

  When I lowered back down to my feet, Sanford grinned from ear to ear. “I don’t deserve so much as your friendship after the way I have treated you.”

  “That’s what the Lord calls grace.”

  He lowered his head and kissed me again, lingering this time. “I’ve certainly spent enough time wallowing in bitterness; I’m not going to spend time wallowing in guilt now, but I am very sorry for everything.”

  I wrapped my arms around his middle and leaned against his chest, breathing him in. “I’m just glad to finally have you back. I’ve missed you so much, Sanford.”

  He leaned his head against mine. “And I’m here to stay, Natalie.”

  Sanford:

  I pulled Natalie to my side and threw my arm around her shoulders, our feet stretched out and interlocking at the ankles where we shared a foot rest.

  My heart hammered hard in my chest, just like it did every time she drew near. Being with her this way was the most natural thing in the world. It baffled me that I had been so blinded by Kelly, then by my anger and pride, to see what was right in front of me. But thank the Lord, and Granny’s crew of ghosts, I wasn’t blind anymore.

  Natalie laid her hand on my chest, and I scooped it up, lacing our fingers together. She peered up at me with such a loving warmth radiating from her smile and those kind eyes.

  I kissed the tip of her nose, unwilling to do more with Hunter and Mia sitting across the room and Granny due to walk in at any moment.