Angels in the Snow

by Rexanne Becnel

  “What about your aunt Sunbeam?” Jennifer asked. “Does she live in her tent, even in the winter?”

  “Moonbeam,” Lucy corrected her with a giggle. “And her tepee is bigger and heavier than most tents. Plus, it has a fire in it.”

  “She knows how to put the tepee in places where the trees protect it from the wind,” Robbie explained.

  “And sometimes, when it’s really too cold, she comes to stay with us,” Josie finished.

  Everyone laughed. “I hope she and her family are somewhere warm right now during this blizzard,” Judith said. “It’s still coming down pretty thick out there.”

  The heavy clouds and steady snow brought an early dusk, and Charles added wood to the fire while Marilyn lit two kerosene lamps to keep the dark at bay. As he looked over the living room, Charles was struck by how different it appeared from yesterday. Crowded with furniture and people, nothing remained of the magazine-picture-perfect decor.

  Judith had been right, he realized ruefully. It had looked more like an office than a home. Now it looked like a place people would want to live: happy children at play; good smells; a comfortable sense of closeness.

  It was probably just the Christmas tree, he decided as he closed the firescreen. But then Judith walked by Alex and rumpled his hair, then touched Jennifer’s arm in passing, and he knew it was more than the tree. This enforced closeness might have been hellish if they’d been left here alone, but the presence of the Walkers had made it—

  He paused, struggling to understand. Somehow their presence had . . . made it right.

  He studied Joe and Marilyn, who were sitting with their heads together next to the rabbit’s box.They lived in a flimsy dome—or at least they used to. Joe couldn’t be doing much more than barely keeping food on the table. Yet his children were happy and healthy, and his wife clearly loved him, Charles acknowledged as he watched Marilyn smile and lean her head against Joe’s shoulder.

  As much as it galled him to admit it, Charles knew that this long-haired throwback to the ’70s had found the secret to happiness that Charles had yet to discover.

  But he would, he vowed with renewed determination. He would make peace with his children, and make Judith love him again.

  If someone like Joe Walker could do it, so could he.

  Chapter Nine

  “You can’t see the car anymore,” Alex announced. He looked at his parents, meeting first his mother’s worried gaze and then his father’s. “It’s just a big white lump.”

  Jennifer crossed to the window and stood beside him. “I wish the phones were working.”

  “Why, so you can call Clarisse to gab?” he teased. “A lot of good that would do us.” But he nudged her shoulder gently with his elbow, and she responded with a wry grin.

  “I guess being best friends with the mayor’s daughter is no help at all in a blizzard.”

  Alex considered that. “I suppose her father could call out the National Guard to come and rescue us.”

  “You want to leave?” Josie asked as she insinuated herself between the two Montgomery children. “This is so much fun. Why do you want to leave?”

  Alex reached down and picked her up, flipping her over onto his back while she squealed in delight. “We don’t want to leave, Josie. But it is kinda weird being stuck here with no electricity or telephones.”

  The child leaned forward and put her hands over his eyes. “You can’t see anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He bounced her up and down. “What if Santa can’t see to get here? What if the blizzard stops him?”

  The little girl’s humor fled. “Santa can always find his way, can’t he?”

  Alex could have bitten his tongue. Why had he said that? “ ’Course he’ll find us, Josie. That was just a stupid joke.” He looked meaningfully at Jennifer.

  “That’s right,” Jennifer agreed. “Santa always finds his way. Remember about Rudolph?”

  “What’s the matter, Josie? Afraid you won’t have any presents on Christmas morning?” Robbie teased as he joined them at the window.

  Josie gave her brother a relieved smile. Then she laughed. “No. I knew Santa would find us all along.” Then, with the reckless courage of the well-loved child, she plunged off Alex’s shoulders into the waiting arms of her brother. Once Robbie had her, he promptly began to tickle her.

  “Stop it. Stop!” she shrieked amid her giggles.

  “Okay. I’ll stop. I’ll tickle Jennifer instead!”

  In a moment they were a mass of laughing, flailing kids as Lucy also joined in. Tickling feet, underarms, waists, and necks, they collapsed in a pile. As the biggest, Alex had the advantage. But the others quickly figured that out and ganged up on him, until he was held down on the floor with Josie sitting on his chest.

  “You’ve been a very bad boy,” she said in a mock serious voice. But she couldn’t keep the sparkle out of her blue eyes, and Alex grinned back up at her. “I don’t know if Santa is going to bring you anything at all this year.”

  “He’ll give him coal and switches.” Lucy laughed, holding tight to one of Alex’s legs.

  “ ’Course, there’s still time to be a good boy,” Josie continued.

  “I’ll do anything. Anything,” Alex pleaded in a wavering, falsetto voice.

  “Make him chop all the wood,” Robbie suggested.

  “No, make him wash the dishes,” Jennifer threw in.

  Josie tapped one finger against her chin. “I have a better idea. Alex has to play some Christmas songs for us!” She looked down at him. “Okay?”

  Alex met the little girl’s stare with a mixture of emotions. Christmas carols with an electric guitar? How embarrassing, even if he didn’t have an amp or electricity. Still, he couldn’t deny her request. She was so cute. And she still believed in Santa Claus.

  He nodded slowly. “Okay. But it’ll have to be some easy ones, because I don’t know how to play any Christmas carols. I’ll have to figure a few out.”

  “Okay.” She clambered off his chest and promptly pushed everyone else off Alex. “Move. C’mon, get off,” she ordered. “Alex is gonna play us some Christmas songs, and everybody has to sing.”

  By the time darkness fell, the living room was rife with new smells and sounds. Charles looked around with an odd sense of contentment. The fire, constantly supplied with logs to maintain a hot bed of coals, kept the room warm. The light from the hearth, the two oil lamps, and several candles cast a golden light over all. Perhaps it would not do for reading, but for simply sitting and watching, for listening and occasionally conversing, Charles found it splendid.

  The five children were gathered in one corner, working on some scheme or another, judging by their whispers and muffled giggles. Josie had attached herself almost possessively to Alex and he didn’t seem to mind. In her high little voice she sang snatches of Christmas songs to Alex as he worked out the chords for them.

  Joe had given him the acoustic guitar he’d found earlier, and after a brief discussion, they had decided to use the strings from Alex’s electric guitar to replace the ones on the old acoustic. Though less than ideal, under the circumstances, it would suffice.

  Marilyn and Judith had a stew bubbling on the hearth, and had promised more popcorn and hot chocolate to go with the caroling. All in all, it was as close to a scene from a Hallmark commercial as Charles had ever experienced, and he found it both sweet and inexplicably sad. This was how Christmas should be—every year and for everybody. This was exactly what he had wanted.

  As if she had been thinking the very same thought, Judith looked up. Their gazes caught and held. In her eyes was a mirror of his emotions, a sweet soft stirring of feelings that was tinged with sorrow.

  He swallowed hard, willing her to struggle past the sadness. Without thinking, he mouthed the words I love you. For a moment longer their eyes clung. Then she looked away.

  Charles knew she’d been affected by his impulsive avowal, for her eyes had widened and she’d sud
denly seemed more vulnerable than ever. He too was frightened by the emotions he felt. It was almost as if he’d never said the words before—or never truly meant them. But he meant them now. More than he’d ever thought he could.

  “Boy, are you guys gonna be surprised,” Josie announced with a nod of her curly head.

  Charles looked at the little girl, who had come up before him. “We are, are we?” On impulse he reached forward to stroke the golden haze of curls. “You know what, angel baby? I bet you’re right.” He sat back in the chair, filled with a rare feeling of well-being as he smiled at her. “I can hardly wait to see what you hooligans have cooked up for us.”

  They ate dinner by firelight and candlelight amid the infectious good humor of the children. Everyone seemed filled with good spirits. But then, it was the day before Christmas Eve, Charles thought with enormous contentment.

  Judith sat to his left. As he finished the last spoonful of the hearty stew, he wiped his mouth. Then he placed one arm around Judith’s shoulders and drew her nearer. When she looked around in surprise, he planted a kiss directly on her lips. “Thanks for a wonderful meal.”

  “Ooooh!” Lucy teased at once. “No kissing at the table until everyone’s finished.”

  Charles laughed, more in the pleasure of the moment than at Lucy’s joking. Kissing his wife had been wonderful; her lips were warm and she tasted of beef stew. And best of all, he’d made her blush. Her cheeks were tinged with pink in the flickering light of the candles on the table, and she looked incredibly beautiful like that.

  He glanced over at Lucy. “Then I hope everyone hurries up and finishes, so I can kiss her again.”

  Judith lowered her eyes in confusion.

  Jennifer, however, was not at a loss for words. “Hey, you know what we need? Mistletoe! You always have to have mistletoe at Christmastime.”

  “All right, Jenn,” Alex said. “ ’Fess up. Who do you want to kiss, anyway?”

  “Me? I don’t want to kiss anyone,” she exclaimed. But she couldn’t prevent a guilty glance at Robbie.

  “Yeah,” Lucy jumped in. “Moms and dads don’t need mistletoe to kiss. So you must want to kiss somebody!”

  Into all this raucous good humor Josie piped up eagerly, “I want to kiss Alex.” She stood up on her chair and waved her fork around to get attention. “I want to kiss Alex! He’s my boyfriend.”

  Charles watched Alex get up too, then pick up Josie and spin her around in his arms. This wasn’t the Alex he’d known for the past few years. This was a different Alex—a gentle, considerate boy who planted a kiss on the little girl’s cheek.

  “Okay, girlfriend, I kissed you. Now you kiss me.”

  The other children whistled and hooted as Josie gave him a long, loud smack on his cheek. Then every-one started clapping.

  “See,” Alex said as he put her down on her chair. “You don’t need mistletoe to kiss somebody.”

  He grinned at everyone, and it was as if a contagion were set loose upon them all. Joe kissed Lucy; Marilyn kissed Robbie. Charles took that opportunity to kiss Judith again. With an embarrassed laugh Judith reached out for Jennifer.

  “Come here. Remember when we used to give you sandwich kisses?” She pressed a kiss to the girl’s left cheek while Charles immediately pressed one to the other side of Jennifer’s laughing face.

  Again Charles’s gaze met Judith’s in the old familiar way. While these warm feelings enveloped them all, they needed to talk about their relationship. Maybe later that night.

  He smiled at Judith as Jennifer broke away laughing, and rejoiced inside when she smiled back.

  Alex tossed Josie up in the air, making her squeal with delight. Then he kissed her again and planted her back on her chair. “See what you started, Josie?” he teased.

  “I didn’t start it. Jennifer did,” the child replied, pointing at Jennifer.

  “I didn’t start it,” Jennifer protested in turn. “It’s all Dad’s fault.”

  “Moi?” Charles said, feigning innocence. “All I did was kiss my wife.” He leaned over and kissed Judith once more, taking a secret pleasure in the color that rose in her face again.

  Amid the continuing good humor and boisterous jesting, the meal was finished and the cleanup began. Marilyn marshaled the children’s aid and sent Judith and Charles to sit by the fire with the firm admonition to relax and do “whatever.”

  As he guided Judith to the big couch, Charles felt jubilant. Never in his wildest dreams could he have thought a blizzard and the constant presence of a quintet of strangers—very strange strangers at that—would lend itself to a truly merry Christmas. Yet that was precisely what was happening. His children were behaving; his wife had let him kiss her—three times!—and blushed at his attentions. He was so happy, he felt he would burst. Things were going to work out; he was sure of it.

  But as he sank down into the soft sofa, Judith took a step back, glancing briefly at him before averting her gaze. “The rabbit . . . someone should check on it.”

  “One of the kids can do that, Jude. Come on. Sit down with me for a little while.”

  “Well . . . I will. I will. Just as soon as I do a couple of things.”

  She backed away before he could stop her, and just as fast as hope had buoyed him up, despair now let him down with a hard thump. He watched her fuss over the rabbit in its box in the corner. He saw Josie come to join her, and the way Judith’s hand gently stroked the child’s curly head.

  She was so kind, he thought as yearning stabbed painfully through him. So gentle and loving and giving of herself. She’d been that way with him for as long as he’d known her.

  But she didn’t want to be that way with him anymore. Anguish threatened to overwhelm him, but he fought it down. He would never win her back by giving up. He never gave up. That’s what had gotten him where he was today. He never gave up, and he would not give up now.

  His gaze sharpened on Judith, taking in her familiar shape, the familiar profile, the soft shine of her hair. He knew her so well. At least he’d thought he did. It was clear, though, that there were facets of her he’d never learned.

  But he was willing to learn them now, so why wouldn’t she let him? If only she would bend. It wouldn’t take much to bring them back to how they were before.

  His skin prickled and he looked up to see Joe’s eyes focused on him. Marilyn moved into her husband’s embrace at that moment and her gaze, too, turned toward Charles. Their steady gazes left him unsettled, and he struggled for a way to get back the warm camaraderie he’d felt during the meal.

  “How about . . . how about those carols? Is everyone nearly ready to sing them now?” He crossed to Josie and crouched down before her with a determined smile. “Are you ready for Christmas caroling?”

  The smile he received back was like a beam of sunshine. It warmed him through and through, and he was tempted to pick her up and hug her tight. But before he could act on that impulse, she turned away.

  “C’mon, Alex!” she called as she ran toward the boy. “Let’s do our songs now.”

  Alex caught her as she jumped for him, then tucked her under one arm, carrying her like a limp rag. “Sack of potatoes,” he cried as he paraded through the room. “Sack of potatoes.”

  Jennifer at once swatted Josie’s upended rump, echoing “sack of potatoes.” Lucy and Robbie quickly caught on, and in a moment Josie was squealing with laughter. When Alex finally put her down, she promptly whacked him on his rear end, shouting, “Sack of potatoes.”

  “Aw, you got me.” He laughed. Then, spying her flushed features, he pressed a hand to her brow.

  “Has her fever come back?” Marilyn asked at once.

  “I don’t think so,” Alex answered. “What do you think?”

  “I’m not sick,” Josie protested as her mother felt her brow.

  “No, I don’t think you are,” her mother agreed with a relieved smile at Alex. “She’s just pink from being upside down.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I did
n’t know.”

  “It’s fine. She’s fine. Now, shall we sing those songs you’ve been working on?”

  As the children huddled, finalizing the details of their performance, Charles stared at Alex in amazement. His concern for Josie was so unexpected. So unlike him. Charles glanced at Judith and caught the same puzzled expression on her face.

  As if she felt his gaze, she met his eyes, and he knew they shared the same thought. This child of theirs—this boy struggling to become a man—had sides to him they did not know.

  For a moment her face softened, and he felt the smile in her eyes before she looked back at the children. He didn’t know as much about her as he’d thought, he decided again. Nor did he really know his son.

  He swallowed hard at that admission, then focused on Jennifer. Was she, too, more than just the silly twelve-year-old he saw? He watched as she smoothed Josie’s hair back and tucked her shirt in. Then she lined everyone up, tallest to shortest, shushing Josie’s demand to be next to Alex.

  “You can stand next to him in a minute, okay? Just wait.”

  She was just like her mother, he realized, a born organizer, although Judith was more low-key about it. Jennifer seemed to combine his own brash style with her mother’s need for order, and that was good.

  And just like Judith, she needed more from him than she was getting. If he didn’t want to end up as distanced from her as he was from her mother and brother, he needed to pay more attention to her needs.

  “Okay, we’re ready,” Jennifer announced. She glanced down the line of children, trying to restrain a giggle. “We each picked out a special song that we like the best, and everybody has to sing along.” Her eyes danced in anticipation as she stared at her parents. “We’re starting with the youngest first.”

  “That’s me!” Josie broke in, jumping up and down. “Can I start now?”

  “Yeah, go on,” Lucy said, giving her a nudge forward.

  The children all sat down in a circle, with Alex on a footstool with the guitar. Josie stood next to him with one hand on his knee. She waited expectantly as he strummed the opening chords, then, with her eyes fixed on him, began to sing “Away in a Manger.”