Everyone laughed except Charles and Jennifer, although she did look a little interested.
“That’s a thought-provoking point,” Joe said. He reached for more bread. “Christmas in America does have two distinct sides. Like you said, Alex, there’s the birth of Jesus, and then there’s Santa Claus.”
“Christmas is like a big birthday party,” Lucy said. “It’s Jesus’ birthday, only everyone gets presents.”
“Shouldn’t we give Jesus something back?”
At Judith’s question, everyone turned to stare at her. “Well,” she continued, “isn’t that what the Christmas spirit is? Spreading goodwill to all of mankind in His name?”
“You’re right, of course. It’s too bad we can’t all continue to give that gift the entire year,” Marilyn said.
“I doubt most people will give up that Santa side of Christmas,” Charles remarked. “Everyone wants their gifts on Christmas morning. Besides, the retailing industry would collapse without Christmas. We’d have an economic disaster on our hands.”
He bit into his sandwich hard. What a naive and self-righteous bunch they all were. Was he the only realist in the group?
“You can combine the two,” Marilyn stated in a gentle, nonjudgmental tone. “Every salesclerk and shopgirl who works on commission needs that Christmas shopping frenzy. Besides, there’s nothing in the world to compete with the joy a parent feels watching their children Christmas morning. My point is that spreading happiness in whatever way we do it—and whatever season of the year we choose to do it in—is the gift we give to the baby Jesus. We just need to try to do it the whole year long.”
She was right, of course, and Charles knew it. But a devil seemed to goad him to challenge her words. “I’m sure my kids would love me to spread even more happiness their way—and thereby spread more money their way. Retailers would love it, too,” he added sarcastically.
Marilyn looked at him with a patient expression on her face. “Perhaps they’d like something from you that money can’t buy.”
There was an awkward silence. To Charles’s relief—and amazement—it was Alex who stepped in to fill it.
“Like permission to quit school and become a full-time musician?” he suggested hopefully. But he laughed as he said it, and even Charles could not be angry.
“Like taking me mountain climbing,” Robbie said with a meaningful look at his mother.
Marilyn grimaced. “When you’re older.”
“Marilyn is afraid of heights,” Joe explained. “Even driving through the mountains is an ordeal for her.” He reached out to grasp her hand. “Robbie, on the other hand, has no fear of heights whatsoever.”
Marilyn gave her son a mock glare. “When he helped his father repair the roof, I had to leave the house. It was just too traumatic for me.”
“Oh, Mom. I did fine. Dad told you I was really careful.”
“I know. But it’s so high and steep. And accidents can happen. Just look at how we skidded yesterday. If it weren’t for that tree on the side of the road, we might have gone right over—” She broke off with a shudder.
“Well, we’re all right now, so don’t worry about it,” Joe reassured her.
Charles concentrated on his meal as conversation continued on around him. Judith was slowly drawn in. Jennifer abandoned her sulky mood as well, pulled against her will into the warm banter among the Walkers. Only he held himself apart. Though he ate, it was only to maintain a semblance of normality; his stomach was knotted with conflicting emotions.
Joe Walker’s wife adored him. His children loved him and listened to him. They wanted to do things with him. Now Alex had fallen under his spell, and judging by Jennifer’s laughter, so had she.
Charles stole a glance at Judith, then swiftly looked back at his plate. She was smiling, too, involved in a lively conversation about the merits of a school voucher system. When had she decided vouchers were a good idea?
His family rarely shared a meal as absent of conflict as this one. This was exactly what he’d wanted for them. But the amiable atmosphere at this meal existed in spite of him, not because of him.
For a moment he wondered if he was the problem, if he was the cause of his family’s disharmony. Yet if it weren’t for his insistence, they wouldn’t even be here. No, he was the only one of them actively seeking some sort of solution for all their problems.
But as Alex broke into an impromptu version of the Chipmunks singing “All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth,” causing everyone else to dissolve into laughter, Charles couldn’t escape the sinking feeling that no matter how hard he tried, he could never re-create the happy scene before him.
Never.
Chapter Eight
“Daddy.”
Charles looked up automatically at Josie’s plaintive call. There was something in her worried tone that wouldn’t allow him to just stare at his open book any longer. Joe also looked up from his spot near the hearth surrounded by the other four children. Robbie and Alex were carving wood chips. Lucy and Jennifer—friends again—were stringing popcorn, while offering the boys free advice on their efforts.
“It looks sort of like an ear,” Jennifer stated.
Alex looked up at her, but his reply was mild. “It would have to be a really deformed ear.” He held it against his head so that it poked out through his hair.
“You’ve gotta have two,” Robbie advised. “I gotta have two. Would you make me a pair just like that?”
They all laughed.
“Here. Catch,” Lucy ordered. She threw one kernel of popped corn at each boy, but despite their diving efforts with mouths opened wide, the popcorn fell short of its goal. She laughed. “Okay, second try.” But this time she threw a handful at each of them.
Amidst all their good-natured shoving and scrambling for the popcorn, Joe rose and crossed to Josie’s side.
“What’s the trouble, sweetheart?”
Charles watched as she took her father’s hand, then climbed up into his lap. “Fluffy is still sick. She won’t eat or drink or anything.”
Joe pressed a kiss into her tousled curls as they both gazed down into the box at the injured rabbit. “He was hurt pretty bad by that lynx, sugar. It might take him a long time to get better.”
“She’s a girl,” Josie corrected him. Then she stared up at him, her face solemn. “What if she can’t get better?”
Joe hesitated. He glanced up, meeting Charles’s gaze. In that moment Charles recognized that for all his relaxed ways with his children and Charles’s, the man didn’t have all the answers. There was no easy way to respond to a question like Josie’s. Not when the questioner stared at you with such an innocent, trusting face. He was glad the task didn’t fall to him.
“If she doesn’t get better, then I guess she’ll go up to heaven.”
Josie digested that a moment. “To heaven? With the baby Jesus?”
Joe nodded. “As I recall, Jesus especially loved animals and little children.”
Stupid move, Charles thought with undeniable relish. He should never have mentioned little children.
As Charles expected, Josie’s eyes widened with fear. “Jesus wants little children in heaven, too? But . . . but I don’t want to be dead!”
Joe hugged her tighter. “You don’t have to worry about that, sweetheart. You’re staying here with your mom and dad and brother and sister. But you know what? You don’t have to be afraid of heaven. Remember when Moonbeam and her kids moved last year? Summer and Spring were both afraid they’d hate their new home and that they’d never make any new friends. But guess what—now they love their new home and they have a bunch of new friends.
“Well, heaven is like that. It’s like moving to a new neighborhood. Before you get there, it seems really scary. But once you’re there, it turns out to be a pretty cool place.”
Everyone had stopped to listen. Josie looked from her father down to the ailing rabbit, pondering his explanation. Charles glanced at his own children and was sur
prised by the thoughtful expressions on their faces. Religion wasn’t often discussed in their house. They knew about Jesus, of course, about heaven and hell, and Christmas and Easter. But not in personal terms. Death hadn’t touched them in any close way.
“If she goes to heaven . . .” Josie trailed off, trying to figure things out. “Will her leg still hurt her up in heaven?”
Joe shook his head. “No, it won’t hurt.”
“Will she have any friends there?”
“I bet there’re lots of other rabbits already there.”
The little girl sighed, and Charles felt her relief as profoundly as his own. “I hope she doesn’t go to heaven, Daddy. But if she does, well, I guess that’s okay, too.”
“Do you really believe animals go to heaven?” Of all people, the question came from Alex.
“Of course they do,” little Josie said. She stared at him as if daring him to deny it.
Joe smiled. “I’ve always believed that heaven is our reward for living a good life on earth, and if that’s so, then it must provide whatever makes us happiest. Can you imagine a happy existence without the beauty of animals and plants?”
“What would heaven be like for you, Alex?” Marilyn asked from her spot, curled up on one of the couches.
Alex thought a moment, holding the jackknife idly in his hand. He was getting big, Charles realized. Almost a man. Yet when he smiled shyly at Marilyn, then ducked his head in embarrassment, he was the same little boy dressed as an angel who had sung so loudly at that Christmas pageant those long years ago.
“Heaven would be filled with music,” Alex began. “Not just church music—you know, pianos and organs and stuff like that.”
“He wants to bring his electric guitar with him.” Jennifer laughed, sounding accepting of her brother instead of her usual mocking.
Alex realized it also, for he shrugged and grinned. “Guitars, drums, amplifiers. Maybe God likes really loud music.”
“He liked the little drummer boy,” Judith offered. “Remember in the song? Baby Jesus smiled when the little drummer boy offered him the gift of his song.”
Mother’s and son’s eyes met, and watching from across the room, Charles felt a physical ache deep in his chest. Judith’s love for their son fairly radiated from her, and Alex’s returned emotion was just as apparent. Like a blow to the heart, it struck Charles that no one ever looked at him that way. It was a devastating realization.
“What would heaven have in it for you, Mom?”
At Alex’s question, all eyes turned to Judith. For a moment she hesitated. Her eyes veered briefly to Charles, then just as quickly away. She shifted in her chair and finally smiled.
“Well, let’s see. Heaven would have to have my parents—and eventually my children—”
“We know that,” Jennifer interrupted. “We want to know what other things your heaven would have in it.”
“That’s not an easy question.” Judith laughed. “Can I think about it a little while?”
“Well, I know what I want in heaven,” Jennifer replied.
“Lots of stores?”
“Shut up, Alex,” she said with a mock frown as everyone else laughed. “Okay, I would want lots of nice clothes . . .”
This time everyone howled. Despite her own gales of laughter, however, Marilyn saved Jennifer. “It seems to me the Bible is full of references to fine robes and raiments of silk. So Jennifer isn’t so far off the mark.”
“You see?” Jennifer exclaimed. “It’s not so funny after all.”
“Okay,” Joe said. “Heaven has to have animals and plants. Lots of music. Nice clothes,” he added with a grin at Jennifer. “I know I want it to have great food. Corn bread. Baklava. Sugar peas. Bagels.”
“That’s a weird combination,” Lucy said, making a face.
“Oh, yeah? Well, what would you want?”
The girl grinned. “Popsicles and . . . and lots of baseball diamonds!”
“You could be the first woman in the major leagues. The real major leagues!” Robbie added with a dramatic look upward.
“Yeah! Baseball in heaven.”
“My dad used to play baseball when he was a kid,” Jennifer said. “Didn’t you, Dad?”
Charles nodded as all eyes turned to him. “That’s right. I was pretty good in high school.”
“What would heaven have in it for you, Charles?”
The question came from Marilyn. Charles looked over at her. Quiet, thoughtful—observant—Marilyn. He fiddled with the book in his hands and swallowed uncomfortably. He didn’t give a damn about finding happiness in heaven. What he wanted was happiness now, here on earth with his family. He cleared his throat, but before he could think of a reply, Alex spoke.
“Get Dad a phone that never breaks down, never goes dead, even when the cell towers crash and burn. A phone that he can take everywhere—even into blizzards—and still call the office, and he’ll be in heaven. Right, Dad?”
The children all laughed, though none of the adults did. Judith stared down at her hands. Joe and Marilyn stared at Charles, then turned automatically toward each other.
Was that really what Alex thought? That a direct phone line to his office was the most important thing in the world to him?
Judith stood up and walked to the window. Beyond her the snow still fell in a solid white silence. Jennifer also rose, draping her popcorn garland in her outstretched hands, comparing it to Lucy’s. Alex’s attentions had returned to his carving, and he and Robbie were talking quietly as they worked.
Marilyn had closed her eyes and appeared to be dozing, while Joe sat back with Josie still in his lap.
“Tell me and Fluffy a story, Daddy. It’ll make her feel better.”
“Okay.” Joe pressed a hand to his daughter’s brow, then kissed the top of her head. “Feeling better, sugar?”
The child nodded. “Tell me the story of Little Two Eyes. I like that one.”
Lucy looked up from her popcorn. “Don’t you want a Christmas story, Josie?”
Marilyn laughed, her eyes still closed. “You know your dad. He can make it into a Christmas story.”
“Oh, yeah. Like he did ‘The Three Bears’ at Easter for her?”
“And ‘Cinderella’ at the birthday ball,” Robbie added with a grin. “I bet I know what Little Two Eyes will want for Christmas.”
“Hey, you guys. You’re going to spoil the ending,” Joe complained with a grin.
The story unfolded with frequent contributions from the audience. Even Alex and Jennifer, who had never heard the tale before, managed to throw in their own suggestions. Only Josie listened silently, her plump baby face set in serious concentration.
“Want to help us with a puzzle?” Judith asked Charles. He looked up in surprise. She shrugged slightly and gestured toward Marilyn, who was opening a puzzle box on the dining table.
“Come on, Charles. I bet you haven’t worked a puzzle in years,” Marilyn called.
He pushed up from the chair, wondering if she’d urged Judith to include him, or if Judith had done it on her own. “At least ten years. What do we have here?”
“It’s Custer’s Last Stand.” Marilyn handed him the box cover. “Grisly, I know. But it’s what we have.”
All in all the afternoon proved to be strangely pleasant. Charles, Judith, and Marilyn worked on the puzzle, sometimes talking, sometimes not. Once Joe’s Little Two Eyes was happily ensconced in a new home with parents who loved her—and her first Christmas tree—he joined the other adults at the puzzle.
By then Lucy and Jennifer had four long popcorn strands ready, so the children all tackled the tree trimming with glee.
Judith kept a nervous eye on the children’s hilarity. “Oh, they’re going to tip it over—”
“They’ll do fine,” Joe reassured her. “Here, I found another edge piece with brown and red. Weren’t you looking for pieces like this?”
“That’s it,” Judith crowed, connecting two long puzzle sections.
The tree was finished long before the puzzle was even halfway complete. The expensive red balls, meant to create an elegant, shimmering tree with the tiny twinkling white lights, were softened by the generous loopings of the popcorn garlands. The children had put the strings of lights up in the hopes that the electricity came on. But the firelight flickering off the glass balls, coupled with the scents of fir tree, wood smoke, and popcorn, lent the tree a simple charm that bewitched them all.
“Let’s sing Christmas carols,” Josie suggested as she gazed with delight at the tall tree.
“Wait. What about the star at the top of the tree?” Lucy reminded her.
“Here,” Alex put in, handing Josie the large silvery star. “I’ll hold you so you can put it up.”
Josie hesitated only a moment. As she stepped up to Alex, her confidence in him obvious, Charles saw Alex smile. It wasn’t a smile he’d seen often on his son’s face—not in a long time.
Alex lifted Josie up high until she could reach the topmost tree branch. It took her a few tries to get the star securely in place. Once she nearly dropped it. But Alex held her steady, and when the star was up she gave him a bright smile.
“We did it! Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It sure is, Josie. You did a great job.” Alex held her in his arms a few seconds longer. “You know, we need an expert tree trimmer like you back at our house.”
“Isn’t this your house?”
“No, we just came here for a Christmas vacation. But I’m glad we did,” he added, giving her a little jiggle.
Charles stared hard at Alex, unable to quite believe what he’d heard. Alex was . . . well, he wasn’t acting like himself. The tall boy holding the little girl seemed almost a stranger. But a good stranger.
Josie said, “I’m glad you came here, too, ’cause there weren’t any other houses close to where we wrecked.” A tiny frown crossed her face. “I hope our van is okay.”
“C’mon, Josie. Who’s gonna steal it in a blizzard?” Robbie said. “Boy, I’m sure glad we didn’t have to camp out in the snow. That’s no fun at all.”
Angels in the Snow Page 9
