The Christmas Lamp

by Copeland, Lori

  Temperatures had finally settled into a more seasonal pattern. Huddled deep into her wool coat, Roni crossed the street. Nadine was behind the counter when Roni entered the post office.

  “Morning, Roni.”

  “Good morning, Nadine. I need stamps.”

  “Sure thing.” The woman slid off her stool and opened a drawer. “I suppose you want holiday ones?”

  Roni perused the possibilities, and chose the large red poinsettia. “Fifteen will be enough.”

  “Fifteen it is.” Nadine began counting out the purchase. “You know, there was a time when I couldn’t keep these stamps in stock this time of year.” She shut the drawer. “Things sure have changed.”

  “No one brings their mail here for the Nativity postmark?”

  “A few locals still want it, but even that’s slowing. In case you haven’t noticed, local Christmas spirit has disappeared.”

  Roni laid a twenty on the counter and found herself defending Brisco. “I know Jake is working hard to correct the town deficit.”

  “Might be, but talk is, he’s the problem.”

  “You know that isn’t fair. He’s just doing his job.”

  She hooted. “And we’re going down like a lead sinker.”

  Picking up her change, Roni gave the postmistress a harsh look. “It’s hardly rational to blame a man for doing his job.”

  Nadine sobered. “Oh girl, you haven’t gone and fallen for the guy, have you?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Roni closed her wallet. “Can’t a person defend someone without being accused of falling for him?”

  “I hear you two are awfully close.”

  “Well, you hear wrong. By the way, I’m supposed to tell you that the date for the church cantata has changed.”

  “Changed? What’s wrong? Brisco can’t cancel the cantata.”

  “Jake wouldn’t even think of — ” She caught her aggravation. “The choir director decided that since so many families are planning on being out of town this holiday that the Saturday night before Christmas isn’t suitable for the concert.”

  “When is suitable?”

  “Thursday night.”

  “Thursday night.” Nadine shook her head. “I’ve never heard the likes. They haven’t changed the Christmas Eve ser vice, have they?”

  Roni sent another censuring look. “Of course the Christmas Eve ser vice is still on.”

  “Just wondered. I thought Brisco might have decided to cancel that too.”

  “Don’t be absurd. He has nothing to do with the church program.”

  “It’s a good thing, or else — ”

  Roni rudely closed the door behind her and blocked Nadine’s complaint. A cold wind swept the pavement, skipping leaves along the sidewalk.

  Crossing the street, she caught sight of the China Wok. Mr. Wong had set a small, but gaily decorated tree outside the establishment. At least he’d caught the spirit. The holiday reminder drew Roni. Though it was barely eleven o’clock in the morning, she suddenly craved sweet and sour chicken.

  She entered the welcoming restaurant on a gust of wind. Mr. Wong glanced up from behind the counter and broke into a grin. “Senorita Roni!”

  Spanish today, Roni noted. “Are you serving yet, Mr. Wong?”

  “Si. Sit.” He motioned to the rows of empty tables, each with a festive poinsettia sitting in the middle.

  Roni picked the one closest to the window, where she could stare at the twinkling tree. Outside, the wind blew power lines in a frantic dance. Inside the restaurant, Christmas carols floated softly over the speakers. Other than the night that she and Jake had eaten beside Lake Tanycomo, she hadn’t felt so festive this season.

  Focusing on the flashing lights, she sipped the hot tea Mr. Wong brought. The steamy liquid warmed her insides.

  She sat up straighter when she saw Jake leave the city office in a big hurry. Still pulling his jacket on, he strode to his car and the lights blinked when he hit the unlock button.

  “Mr. Wong!”

  The owner peered around the kitchen doorway. “Si?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay by me, pilgrim.” He disappeared around the corner.

  Roni realized that she should have worn her coat as she crossed the street. Jake was pulling out of the parking spot in front of the office. She waved him down.

  “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

  “I just got a call from St. John’s Hospital. Grandma’s taken ill, and they’ve transported her to Springfield.”

  “When?”

  “Evidently several hours ago. My cell had been on the charger.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Ride to Springfield with me.”

  It only took seconds for Roni to go back for her coat and purse, and to cancel her order.

  “Oh — and Mr. Wong?”

  “Si?”

  “Would you please deliver a large Dr Pepper with extra ice to Judy?”

  He nodded agreeably. “I’ll mosey right over.”

  Roni paid him and then put on her coat and left. Moments later the silver Acura sped away.

  St. John’s hospital complex commanded most of the corner of National Avenue and Cherokee Street. Roni recalled how when she was a child she loved to visit the facility and see the nuns dressed in black, their gowns whispering down the silent corridors. Once, a sister had taken Roni into her office and written on a small card, God bless Ronda Lucille Elliot. That card was still tacked to her bedroom wall. When life got tough, Roni would look at the message and remember the sister’s kind face, and feel better.

  Mary was still in the emergency room when they got there, but she was resting comfortably. The doctor told Jake that his grandmother had a mild cardiac episode. Serious, but not critical. From her cubicle, Mary gave Jake a smile and a “thumbs-up” sign.

  Soon after their arrival she was moved to a private room. The doctor could say little more than that she was aging and the heart condition was persistent.

  They stood in the hallway until the nurses left and gave them permission to visit her. Roni trailed Jake into the room where the small, frail-looking woman lay on the bed.

  “Comfortable?” Jake asked softly.

  “Jake? Are you still here?”

  Roni slipped quietly into a chair, not wanting to interfere with Jake’s ministry.

  “Of course I’m still here. Why is the room so dark, Grandma?”

  “Why… because nobody’s opened the blinds.” The sense of humor indicated a mind and spirit still active and alert.

  “I’ll take care of that.” Jake drew the curtains and daylight illuminated the room. Stepping back to the bed, he reached for her hand. “What’s going on here? You’re not allowed to be sick.”

  She was able to achieve a feeble, but sincere, smile. “I’ll get sick if I want, Jake Brisco.”

  He reached behind him and pulled Roni up and close to the bed. “Grandma, this is Roni Elliot.”

  “Roni.” Mary reached for her hand. “The Roni you’ve spoken about.”

  Jake had told his grandmother about her? Roni glanced at him, but he was focused on the woman in the bed. “The nurses say you’re doing well.”

  “Do they?”

  “We can’t have you sick here during the holidays.”

  She offered another weak smile. “No, that won’t do at all.” She suddenly caught his hand closer, fervor burning in her eyes. “Jake …”

  “Shhh, Grandma. You’re going to be fine.”

  “Jake, I’ve failed you.”

  “You’re talking nonsense, Grandma. Now rest.”

  She laid back, her breath short. “We should never leave unspoken … the things that need to be said.”

  Jake attempted to calm her, but she pushed him away. “No. This needs to be said. When your parents and sister… were killed, I allowed my pain to shape your life. I should have taken you in, raised you, and given you a sense of true family. I was overwhelmed with �
� bitterness and misery, and when the holiday approached I’d draw into a shell and pray that the weeks would pass quickly … so we’d be done with hurtful reminders. I knew you never wanted to come see me, and God forgive me, I didn’t insist that your aunt bring you here. Never once did I consider the good that remained in my life.”

  Nudging a blanket aside, Jake perched on the edge of the mattress. “Don’t blame yourself. I never wanted to come. I was a kid who had better things to do, or so I thought.”

  Mary suddenly changed the subject. “Your mother hated meatloaf, did you know that? She refused to eat it as a child.”

  “I think I’ve consumed her share the past few years.”

  She patted his hand. “Do you recall the fun and laughter Christmas used to bring?”

  “Sure I do, Grandma. I couldn’t wait for Christmas Eve at your house, especially the cookies we’d bake.”

  “Such warm memories. I’d decorate every nook and cranny of the house. Your folks would come for the holiday, and your mom and I would make pies and candy.

  Those were some of the best times of my life, and your Aunt Louise deprived you of such memories. After the accident, my Christmases were so quiet; so very silent.”

  “Grandma, you’re going to be around for many more Christmases, and if you want to decorate the house this year, I’ll help.”

  Roni said softly. “I’ll help too. The nurses say you’re doing remarkably well.” She didn’t know why she felt an instant bond with this woman. Maybe it was because she reminded Roni of her Grandma Sue. Grandma used to phrase her speech in the same odd, broken pattern.

  “Wouldn’t that be lovely.” Mary’s eyes drifted shut and she laid still. Roni glanced at Jake, who bent closer to check her breathing.

  “She’s asleep,” he whispered.

  “I’m not asleep, Jake. I’m only catching my breath. I’m so tired. There’s so much I want to tell you. I should have mailed you the lamp. I should have at least done that much.”

  “You did, Grandma. Several years ago.”

  “I did? Silly me. I guess I wanted to forget it.” Mary blindly groped for his hand. “I didn’t get a chance to feed Max.”

  “I’ll stop by and feed your dog, Grandma.”

  “Give him a little extra tonight,” she whispered. “He cried when I left in … the ambulance.”

  10

  Rush hour traffic packed National Avenue when the Acura pulled out of the hospital drive. Roni longed to erase the worried lines etching his forehead. “I know you’re concerned, but the nurses say she’s doing very well.”

  “She looks frail to me.” Jake reached for Roni’s hand.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without her. It took a long time to form a relationship, but we did. She’s all I have now.”

  Roni tightened her grip in his. “God willing, you still have lots of time with your grandma.”

  “Do you mind if I stop by my place, and then feed Max? I want to pick up a few things.”

  “Not at all. I’m in no hurry.”

  Besides, Jake was growing on her. She’d love to see how and where he lived his personal life.

  Jake’s residence was the entire second floor of a building that had once housed Springfield Grocer Company.

  The structure sat on Booneville Street near the hub of Springfield’s downtown area, the historic, old town district where second and third floor spaces were being refurbished into trendy lofts and apartments. When the Acura pulled up in front of the building, Roni couldn’t contain her excitement. “This is where you live?”

  “This is it.” Jake cut the engine, got out, and opened her door.

  To the left was a private elevator that whisked them to the second floor. The bottom floor was empty with a For Lease sign displayed prominently.

  “You’re renting out space?” Roni asked.

  “The building’s too big for one family. It was once a wholesale food distribution operation.” He sniffed. “If you have a good imagination you can still smell the aroma of fresh ground coffee.”

  Drawing a deep breath, Roni detected the faint fragrance. “You really can.”

  The elevator stopped, and she stepped out into the apartment itself. Jake flipped a switch and soft lighting lit the luxurious area. The apartment had a marble entry, plush sofas and chairs, and rich mahogany tables; carpets and accessories from abroad filled the spacious loft.

  “It’s breathtaking,” she murmured.

  Jake walked through the room switching on additional lighting. “When I was a kid I used to come here around the holidays. My parents knew the owners then, and Jill and I would sit in the front window and watch the Christmas parade. It was quite an event back then. If I were lucky I’d get to invite a friend from school, so I became pretty cool around Christmastime.”

  “I’ll bet you were cool all the time.”

  “I wasn’t,” he assured her. “I was a geek with big glasses. I wore sweaters and slacks. I ate lunch alone every day, except for the couple of weeks prior to the holiday parade.” He hit a button and the drapes drew back to reveal downtown Springfield. “Several years ago, the old building came up for sale and I bought it.” He motioned.

  “Come here.”

  She walked over to enjoy the sight. Outside, Christmas lights were starting to come on. The neon signs and the lighted snowflakes hanging from the streetlights glistened and glowed. The sight gave her goose bumps.

  Jake’s arms encircled her waist, and she leaned back to rest against his tall frame. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

  “It’s lovely.”

  Then his tone sobered. “Do you think Grandma will make it?”

  How she wished she could remove the worry in his voice. A cardiac episode could be serious. The nurses had said she was stable, but anything could happen at her age.

  “I don’t know, Jake. All we can do is pray.”

  He squeezed her waist and then released her. “The attic’s this way.”

  “The attic?”

  “Yeah, I have to look for something. Want to help?”

  “Sure.”

  She turned to follow him through the spacious apartment. Pausing in front of a door, he confessed. “It’s probably cluttered up there. I’ve been promising myself I would clean it, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.” He opened the door and ushered her up a steep flight of stairs.

  The attic area was monstrous. Stored items dating back to the days that the building had been a food company met her eyes. Coffee grinders, huge barrels that had once held coffee beans, counters, light fixtures. The faint smell of coffee lingered here too.

  “This junk was part of the deal,” he explained. “Nobody’s ever wanted to move it, so it’s stayed over the years.” He paused, his eyes searching the dimly lit space. “The Christmas decorations should be over here somewhere,” he said, leading the way through a maze of piled boxes. After a bit of searching, they struck gold. They located a section marked “Christmas.” Standing back, Jake shook his head. “I haven’t touched this stuff in years. It might take a while to find the lamp.”

  “You’re looking for a lamp?”

  “A very special lamp.”

  His prediction was accurate, as it took a lot of digging to locate the item, but the search produced priceless memories for him. He held up an ornament he’d made in first grade. “Did I mention that I’m an artist?”

  The dried glue and sequined angel made Roni laugh.

  He frowned. “You’re laughing at Picasso-quality work?”

  She bit her lip to stop the laughter. “It’s very ornate.”

  One box after the other exposed ornaments, tinsel, lights, and half-melted candles. Finally Jake hit pay dirt.

  “Wait. I think I’ve found it.”

  She scooted closer. “Open it. I can hardly wait to see what we’ve been looking for.”

  His expression softened when he lifted the ornate porcelain base and held it up for inspection. “It’s exactly as I remember.”


  Roni examined the exquisite pattern. “It’s so very lovely. Was it your mother’s?”

  “No, Grandma took it out of her front window on the night of the car accident. She never put it up again. A few years ago she sent it to me, but I stored it away.”

  Handing it back, Roni smiled. “It’s very unique, like your grandmother.”

  Cold sunlight backlit the treetops early the next morning when Jake drove back to Springfield. He grabbed a cup of gas-station coffee and headed for the hospital. A quick call when he got up assured him that Grandma had spent a comfortable night. Sleep had eluded him. He’d tossed and turned, trying to figure out why Christmas no longer held the meaning it once had. Sure, without Mom, Dad, and Jill, nothing was ever the same. But life had gone on.

  The family wasn’t a stranger to trouble. The year Mom fell and broke her arm, she’d been in a cast all summer. Dad had run the household. The year Grandpa died cleaning out a hedgerow had put a pall over the family. For years Jake had heard his parents talk about how bad things had been when Dad had gone without work for a year and a half after Jake was born.

  Half an hour later, the Acura wheeled into the hospital parking lot. Jake walked towards the entrance, balancing a flower vase and a cardboard box. Frost glistened off the sidewalks.

  The fourth-floor corridor was quiet. It was early; the morning shift was just coming on duty. Nurses finished their charts, and the rattle of breakfast carts broke the sleepy silence. When Jake stepped into Mary’s room he saw that she was still sleeping. The nurse rose, lifting her finger to her lips. He stepped back into the hallway and the nurse followed. “Mr. Brisco. I didn’t expect to see you this early.”

  “I forgot something that Grandma needed.”

  “She’s resting peacefully. I’ll take whatever you’ve brought and give it to her when she wakes.”

  “Thanks, but I want to deliver it myself. I won’t disturb her, I promise.”

  Moving back into the hospital room, Jake eased to the window where he quietly lifted the blind enough to set the bouquet of roses on the shelf. Then carefully, he set the box on the floor and removed the hurricane lamp and plugged it in. Soft light encompassed his grandmother’s sleeping form.