A Simple Charity

by Rosalind Lauer

  When ten children came forward and Emma went down the line lighting their candles, Fanny knew this was her son’s big moment. Elsie took a squirming Tommy from her arms so that Fanny could give Will her undivided attention. She beamed with joy as an older child began the poem and blew out his candle. Down the line the story went, telling of ways that the little candles lost their faith, lost their light.

  At last, it was Will’s turn. Fanny studied her boy, noticing the many changes in his face and manner. His chubby cheeks were gone, as was his rambunctiousness. He no longer barreled into the kitchen or pushed his sister to the ground in a fit of temper. Will was finding his way, not an easy path without a father.

  “Two little candles, and now we’re nearly done,” Will spoke clearly, with good expression. “ ‘I’m too small and weak,’ one said, and then there was one.” He blew out his candle with a big sigh. Then he dared a look at Zed, and a grin lit his face.

  Was there any gift greater than seeing joy on your child’s face?

  As the last little candle lit the others and the children sang “Silent Night,” Fanny turned to her right and caught Zed’s eyes. This man had been so good to her children, so good to her. Would there ever be a place or time when she could let him know how she felt toward him? Oh, but the eyes of the community were upon them, ever watchful, and it was sad when love and hope were tainted by guilt and shame. These matters of the heart were so complicated.

  21

  Silver and red glitter sparkled under the light of the kitchen counter as Meg tied a ribbon around a box of cookies she had baked for Jack. It was hard to believe that there was a special someone in her life this year after such a long dry spell, but lo and behold, she and Jack were an item. This would be a first—spending Christmas Eve with a guy she really cared about.

  “So that’s your Christmas gift for him?” Zoey leaned back on the kitchen stool and folded her hands over her wide belly. “Sweet and personal. I like that you didn’t panic and grab for a last-minute safety like a scarf or cologne.”

  “I wish I could come up with something else. Something special.” Meg plumped the bow. “But I didn’t want a token gift, and I know that Jack isn’t really into presents. He says that he’s lucky to be able to afford the things he needs. So what can you give the man who has everything?”

  “That’s profound.” Zoey broke off a piece of one of the extra cookies on the counter and took a nibble. “Mmm. Spicy gingerbread.”

  “Jack’s favorite.”

  “Well.” Zoey brushed crumbs from her hands. “I know something Jack could get you for Christmas.” She waved the back of her left hand in front of her ample bosom. “As in, diamonds are forever.”

  Meg bit her lower lip. “It’s not the diamond I want …”

  “It’s the forever.” Tears sparkled in Zoey’s eyes as she reached over to squeeze her sister’s arm. “Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you and Jack. It’s been so much fun watching you two get to know each other. Ice-skating and movies and walks down Main Street. This is a love story right out of a Hallmark movie.”

  “I know, but we’re not in any rush to get married. We just met last summer, and we’ve been living hundreds of miles apart. Right now we’re both just grateful to spend time together.” Meg rubbed Zoey’s shoulder. It was a little scary how in tune her sister was with her emotions, but once again, Zoey had gotten it right. She could not get enough of Jack, and he felt the same way about her. Over the past two weeks they had spent almost every available hour together, sometimes on dates, and sometimes just hanging out at the inn, making a meal in the big kitchen or talking by the fire or watching television together. “Sometimes I can’t believe it’s happening to me, after so many years of having no one.”

  “So many years. And at last, true love. I would jump up and do a happy dance if I wasn’t toting around a fifteen-pound belly.”

  “A little aerobic happy dance would be okay,” Meg teased, always an advocate of exercise for her sister.

  “Stop that. You are my labor coach, not my personal trainer.” Zoey slid from the seat and opened one large door of the industrial-size fridge. “You know, when Tate and I moved here, I had a feeling you’d be joining us. I knew Halfway would be your kind of place. And now you’ve fallen in love, and you’ve been welcomed by my neighbors, the local sheriff, and the doctor.” She pointed a baby carrot at Meg. “Was I right or what?”

  “You were right.” Last week Meg had met with Henry Trueherz to undergo a diagnostic test, and, of course, the conversation had turned to the need for a midwife in the area. “The situation around Halfway will be eased when the birthing center is open,” the doctor had told her, “but there are many outlying areas in need of midwives. Most of the Amish in Lancaster County choose to give birth at home; that makes life challenging for country doctors like me. I’d be thrilled to have you covering routine births. As for the Amish women, well, you’ve already worked with Fanny. Her recommendation will get you more clients than one woman can handle.”

  It was all falling into place; after she delivered Zoey’s baby, Meg would collect her belongings from Pittsburgh and relocate to Halfway. With Dr. Trueherz as her consultant, she would start working with clients, both English and Amish, who wanted home births. She had also agreed to fill in at the birthing center when needed.

  For now she would stay in her room here at the bed-and-breakfast; eventually, she would find her own place and give Zoey, Tate, and their baby more space to become a family. Granted, they had guests coming through all the time, but she suspected that was different from having your sister or sister-in-law breathing down your neck.

  “Hey, there.” Jack’s low purr brought Meg back to the present. He stood in the arched doorway, his jaw shaved smooth, his hair fluffed from a shower. He wore gray slacks, a black shirt, and a lavender print tie, which was very dressed-up for Jack. “Shandell said I’d find my two favorite girls in here.”

  “You don’t need to butter me up anymore,” Zoey said as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I like you, Jack.”

  “Good news for me.” His smile stirred something deep inside Meg. “How about you?” he asked Meg as he stepped closer and dropped a kiss on her lips. His touch was light but electric. “You need any buttering up?”

  “I like you, too, but I figure it never hurts to grease the pan.”

  One eyebrow lifted. “Never hurts. So what’s your plan tonight, Zoey? You and Tate want to come to Evensong with us?”

  “That sounds like a lovely Christmas Eve ritual, but Tate is taking me out to dinner in Paradise. Soon, we won’t have much opportunity to dine out, just the two of us,” Zoey said as she twisted the bag of carrots closed.

  “Well, you guys will enjoy that.” Jack turned to Meg. “You’d better bundle up. I figure the best way to avoid traffic around the church is to walk.”

  “I’ll get my coat.” Meg went into the main entry to grab her blue quilted coat. She had left her hair down today, and it made her feel pretty and feminine to have it swinging over her shoulder as she returned to the kitchen.

  “Don’t stay out too late, you two!” Zoey called after them. “You might catch me kissing Santa by the tree.”

  “I do get a kick out of your sister,” Jack said as they started down the lane.

  “She’ll keep you on your toes.” Some men were really thrown by Zoey’s mischievous sense of humor, but Jack seemed to get her. Meg reached out a gloved hand and he clasped it and pulled her closer.

  “Let me hold on to you, in case you slip.”

  She knew it was an excuse to stay close, since Tate had gone over the paving stones in front of the inn with a snowblower. She liked the way that Jack found excuses to warm her up, rub her shoulders, or keep her close.

  The evening was cold but clear, with a scattering of stars overhead. An oblong moon glowed silver just over the distant hills; it was a craggy moon, with gray and white spots that resembled the face of a wise old man. They had reached the end of the lan
e when she noticed the bright silhouette of the inn behind them. “Look at the way the lights outline the building,” she said. “It looks like Santa’s workshop at the North Pole.” The white lights cast muted reflections on the snowy lawn.

  “Sure does.” They paused a moment to soak up the winter scene, and Meg felt caught up in the hope and wonder of Christmas Eve.

  “Such a special night. Little kids hang their stockings and listen from their beds for sounds of Santa.”

  “I could never sleep on Christmas Eve,” Jack admitted. “One time when I was supposed to be asleep in bed, I heard something on the roof … this scraping noise. It was probably squirrels, but I was sure it was Santa’s sled making a landing. I yanked on the string of the blinds, ready to see Rudolph, and the blinds fell off the window.”

  “Oh, no!” Meg pressed a hand to her lips to stifle a laugh.

  “Oh, yes. And I was supposed to be asleep. Needless to say, Gran wasn’t too happy about that, but she understood. You can’t keep a boy from meeting Santa.”

  “Your grandmother was very understanding.”

  “Putting up with me all those years? She’s a saint.”

  “I’ve got to meet this dear woman,” she said.

  “You will. She’s already heard about you. We’ll hook up a trip to Philly after Kat has the baby.”

  “Perfect.” Snow crunched underfoot as they headed off under the glittering ceiling of stars. The distant glow was the town of Halfway, where a line of lampposts seemed to point the way to the little church. Like the star of Bethlehem, guiding the wise men.

  “So answer this,” Jack said. “What was the most memorable gift you got from Santa? Answer quick. If you have to dig it out of your memory, it doesn’t count.”

  “In-line skates,” she said. “But it’s a bittersweet memory.” She shared the story of the Christmas after her father had died. She had been six, Zoey ten or eleven. “Before Christmas, Mom sat us down and warned us that we would each get just one gift. She kept saying how sorry she was. I remember thinking that she was wrong; I knew Santa would give me everything my heart desired. Boy, was I surprised on Christmas morning when it turned out that my mother was right.”

  “See that? The Santa thing does a number on kids’ heads.”

  Meg admitted that she’d acted a little bratty that morning. She had pointed out that Zoey didn’t get the sand sculpture kit that she wanted. Mom had said that maybe Zoey would get it for her birthday, and she had added that Christmas was really about celebrating the birth of Jesus.

  “Well, little crumb that I was, I didn’t want to hear that. I got dressed and went next door to see what the neighbors got for Christmas. All very inappropriate, because they had family visiting and I don’t think they wanted the neighbor kid playing with all their new toys while they were having Christmas brunch.”

  He smiled down at her. “Stubborn little thing, weren’t you?”

  The memory of that Christmas used to make her feel awful, but she had forgiven herself for acting like the petulant, grieving six-year-old that she was. “And you know what Zoey did? She came next door with the skates we’d gotten and lured me outside. She helped me get the skates on and got me started rolling on the flat part of the sidewalk. We ended up spending the whole day out there. And Zoey kept saying how glad she was that we both got skates, so that we could play together.”

  “Seriously? She made you look really bad, my friend.”

  “I know. I’ve gotten over it, but it took a while.” As they drew closer to town, other pedestrians bustled through the cold along the quiet streets. Although all of the Amish shops were closed, LED candles burned bright in the windows. “How about you?” she asked Jack. “What was your favorite toy?”

  “Probably the rapid-fire Nerf gun I got when I was ten or eleven. The thing had foam bullets, but I hounded my sister with it. I think she ended up throwing out the bullets while I was asleep one night.”

  “So you were interested in law enforcement from an early age,” she teased.

  “Exactly.”

  “Holidays always bring out memories, good and bad.” A cluster of three-dimensional stars shone bright in the dim window of the hardware store, offering light in the darkness. “Those stars are so pretty. I see them all over town,” she said.

  “They’re called Moravian stars. They’re Advent symbols for the Moravian church, a religious group that came here from Germany.”

  “Just beautiful,” she said, admiring the fat stars that were illuminated from within.

  They were walking along Main Street now, passing the small grocery, the tea shop, and Kraybill’s Fish and Game. Since Meg’s arrival Halfway had taken hold of her, and she had learned the shops and side streets. Ahead of them loomed the tall Christmas tree, a graceful tower of hope and light.

  The sight of the festive town hall reminded her of the gathering where she and Jack had volunteered last week. They had spent two afternoons sorting donations of food and toys before setting out to the back roads between farms to distribute the goods to people who didn’t have enough for the holidays. The charity drive had introduced Meg to some of the poor families of the town, and she had enjoyed talking with many of the women about their families and their favorite holiday recipes. The experience had also allowed her to see a different facet of Jack: his commitment to the people of Halfway. Jack was a helper, just as she was. It was an important thing to have in common.

  They slowed their pace and stared up at the cone of colored lights, whorls and swirls of floating gems. The twinkling tree stirred emotion inside her, memories of Christmases past and hopes for the holidays of the future, with church pageants and cookie decorating and children of her own excited about the arrival of Santa Claus. There was something poignant about the cluster of warm colors sparkling beneath the indigo sky, like a symbol of God’s love, shining in the darkness. Christmas trees caught her every time.

  “It’s all so beautiful,” Meg said.

  “Yeah.” Jack slid his arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his warmth. “Halfway knows how to do Christmas right.” He sighed. “I gotta tell you something, something that’s been weighing on me this past week. I know I can talk up a blue streak most of the time, but this is hard for me to say because …’cause it means so much to me.”

  Meg studied his face, patient and trusting.

  “I’m blessed to live in this town,” he said, “and I’m so grateful to be here with you right now. You’re the best thing to rock my life for a long time. You’ve got to know that’s true. I know it’s kind of soon, but I’ve got to say what’s in my heart. I love you, Meg.”

  She sucked in a breath, overwhelmed. Those three words … they changed everything … rocked her world, as Jack had put it. “Oh, Jack.” She turned to him, her palms flat against his coat. “I love you, too, but I’m a little scared at how fast this is all happening.”

  “Yeah. Like lightning,” he said.

  She nodded. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And it’s amazing and wonderful. Fireworks and a river of deep emotion. But …”

  “Oh, no. There’s a but?”

  “I’m a pragmatic person. Grounded. Responsible. I don’t want to make any rash decisions with my head in the clouds.”

  “Okay, yeah. That’s all good. No rush, Megs.” He pushed the edge of her cap back slightly and placed his hands on her shoulders. “We’ve got plenty of time to ease in and take it slow. I’m not going anywhere … at least, not without you.”

  “I’m really happy to hear that.” Joy radiated through her. The colored lights blurred behind him as she swallowed back the knot of emotion growing in her throat. “Merry Christmas, Jack.”

  He leaned down so that his forehead pressed hers, so close, so intimate. It was as if they were the only two people on the busy Main Street. “Merry Christmas,” he said before he swept her into a kiss that warmed her down to her toes.

  Later, during the Evensong service, Meg melted into the rosy
glow of a hymn and tried to absorb it all. Most of the service was bright, festive music—a celebration of the Savior’s birth—and the lovely songs gave Meg a chance to process the events of the evening.

  Jack loved her. His words had been the finest Christmas gift she could imagine—brimming with joy and commitment, and yet no pressure.

  We’ve got time, he’d said. They could take it slow.

  Part of her wanted to simply revel in his lovely pronouncement, but the presence of a family in the pew in front of them brought the issue back with all the comfort of cold water. The three kids, who looked to be between ages eight and twelve, seemed to enjoy one another, sharing a hymnal and smiling up at their parents. Oh, to have a family like that! Meg wasn’t sure that was possible for her, and she hadn’t told Jack about her endometriosis yet. Not that it was life-threatening, but it could have some bearing on her ability to have children. And, dear Lord, they both wanted kids. She vowed that she would come clean with Jack on the topic as soon as she got the latest test results back from Doc Trueherz.

  The smells of candle wax and evergreen reminded her of the church back in Pittsburgh, where Mom and Kip would attend services tonight. Meg had to press her lips together to suppress a sudden grin. Most Christmases she felt like a third wheel, tagging along with her mother and stepfather, but not this year. This year, she had found love.

  Jack took her hand, and she sat a little closer to him and soaked up the sweet harmonies, fragrant evergreen garland, and candles trimmed in ribbon. There was such an air of expectancy in the church. Like the hymn that spoke of the thrill of waiting: “The world in solemn stillness lay to hear the angels sing.”