Stepping back, he drank in the familiar sight. He’d forgotten how pretty and comforting the lamp was. Perhaps, as Grandma had reminded him, there were other things he’d overlooked the past years.
Turning around, he bent down to gently kiss his grandmother’s forehead, and murmured softly, “Now it’s Christmas, Grandma.”
11
“Yeah. I’m taking a mental health day.”
Judy’s sleepy voice came over the phone line. “Are you sick?”
“No, I just need a day off so I can stay sane.” Roni spoke around a light clip between her lips. “Actually, I feel better than I’ve felt in months.” She secured a string of lights to the gutter. “Tell Jake and the mayor I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Judy acknowledged. “You know I hate it when you’re not there. It’s like a tomb in the office.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Roni promised, and clicked off.
Balancing on the ladder, she punched in Dusty Bit-terman’s number. When he answered she said, “Alert the troops.”
“Hot dog! It’s about time.” He hung up.
Wedging the phone into her jeans pocket, she then wrapped a couple of light strings around her arm and checked to make sure the staple gun was still hooked to her belt. She agreed with Jake’s grandma: Christmas was a little overdue this year.
A steady “snap, snap, snap” filled the crisp morning air as she set to work on the roof. Tiny snowflakes swirled around her as she secured the strings of bulbs to the house fascia. The weather had finally gotten with the game plan.
Ed Carlson wandered out onto his front porch. His hair stood straight up as if he’d just climbed out of bed.
“What’s going on?” he called.
“Putting up my Christmas decorations, Ed!”
She stapled a string of lights to a shingle. As she worked, neighbors’ doors opened and sleepy folks appeared, carrying huge boxes that they set beside their homes. Men dragged ladders out of garages, and before long a crowd assembled below Roni. Willing hands held the ladder steady and stood ready to hand her anything she needed. Women brought thermoses of hot coffee to the growing crowd and the atmosphere took on a holiday feel.
By eight o’clock a few people broke away to go to work, but the sound of staplers and squeaky ladders continued. Nativity had found their spirit. Up and down the street, lights went up and the sound of Christmas filled the cold snowy air. Fake snowmen appeared in yards, accompanied by bogus reindeer. Inflated plastic snow globes blowing synthetic snow took shape.
The fury continued by flashlight into the night, when people came home from work and were caught back up in the frenzy. By noon the following day, decorations were starting to pop up all over town.
“You and Bitterman finally did it.” Judy grinned when Roni walked into the office the next morning.
“No, the town did it. Dusty and I only encouraged them to recapture the spirit.”
“Regardless, it’s turned into a holiday frenzy.”
“Do you think Jake’s noticed?”
Judy’s jaw dropped. “Noticed? Everybody’s noticed. I saw a decorated tree sitting next to the road on my way in this morning.”
“Not a cent is coming out of the town coffers,” Tess reminded. “And I for one am thrilled that folks have caught the spirit. It hasn’t been Christmas until now.”
“Why Tess,” Roni teased, “I thought you agreed with Jake’s cuts.”
“I do. He’s sharp as a tack, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love Christmas.”
Roni shook her head. “I hope Jake feels the same. He’s honestly trying to help.”
Judy shrugged. “He’s never suggested that we couldn’t celebrate Christmas, and besides, he’s not here.”
Roni glanced at Brisco’s desk. “Where is he?”
Judy bent to her work. “He took the next couple of days off to be with his grandmother.”
Pulse quickening, Roni asked, “Is she worse?”
“I don’t think her condition has changed, but he felt he should be with her. He left you a note on his desk.”
Roni walked over and located the white envelope marked with her name. Sitting down in Jake’s chair, she read the brief message:
Roni,
I’ve decided to sit with Grandma for a couple of days. If I don’t see you before Christmas, I hope you have a blessed holiday. I trust I haven’t ruined it for you or the others in Nativity.
Jake
Folding the paper, she slid it back into the envelope. Ruined her holiday? Actually, he had improved it. She was brimming with Christmas cheer, and it was all because of a simple hurricane lamp. Life was precious, and it didn’t take a boatload of money or the idea that “we’ve always done it this way” to make the holiday meaningful.
Outside the window, Nativity sprang to life. Once the fever spread, the citizens had taken over. Christmas Eve was two days away, and everyone seemed bent on catching up from a late start. Word spread of plans for a townwide holiday celebration after the church’s candlelight ser vices on Christmas Eve. Those who had planned out-of-town trips were now grumbling.
Stepping to the window, Roni focused on the harried activity. Wreaths hung in every business pane. Folks scurried past the office with wrapped presents under their arms. Across the street, a group of volunteers decorated a large cedar, not in the intersection, but on the sidewalk near the entrance to an alley. They anchored the top to the walls of nearby businesses, so it wasn’t as professional and sturdy as the usual spruce, but it only had to stay erect a few days. She’d heard talk that church members were going from house to house gathering decorations for the tree. Her gaze shifted to the gazebo area, where a team of Veterans of Foreign Wars was setting up folding tables for spiced cider and hot chocolate.
Turning from the window, her eyes caught the miniature town replica that Jake played with. The community didn’t look much like the present Nativity. What did he have in mind? Bending closer, she focused on the buildings, the tour buses, and the obvious Christmas theme. If he was taking Christmas away from Nativity, he certainly had an odd way of doing it.
Roni’s cheeks warmed when she thought about the hour they’d spent in the attic in search of the hurricane lamp. Jake had been different — almost sentimental. A smile escaped her. There was hope for that man. Then she sobered. Once he saw the town and its Christmas excesses would he feel that she had the same mind-set?
Her thoughts turned to the sound of the front door opening. Dusty Bitterman breezed in, dropping peppermints on desks. “Merry Christmas!”
Judy and Tess already had the candy in their mouths when Roni straightened to catch the piece Dusty pitched her.
“Happy holidays, young lady!”
“Dusty, I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
Roni unwrapped the cellophane and stuck the candy in her mouth.
A grin encased the insurance man’s cheerful features.
“Have you ever seen such holiday spirit? It just makes you feel good to be a part of it.”
Tess started on the daily mail. She picked up an envelope and slid the opener beneath the seal. “It sure does. I understand we have you and Roni to thank for all this last minute activity.”
Dusty sent a wink in Roni’s direction. “We’ve had a few talks.”
Tess suddenly paused. “Why this is addressed personally to me? It’s not shaped like a Christmas card.” She read the paper, frowned, and then read it again.
Her puzzled look caught Roni’s attention. “Something wrong, Tess?” She sat down at her desk.
“Someone’s made a mistake. This letter says I’ve won a three-hundred-dollar gift certificate at the Grocery Mart.”
“Wonderful!” Judy and Roni said in unison.
“Now that really makes it Christmas,” Bitterman added.
“But it can’t be right. I didn’t enter a drawing at the Grocery Mart.”
“Maybe someone entered for you?” Roni reached for a file folder.<
br />
“Did you?”
“No. I didn’t know Grocery Mart was having a drawing.” Roni glanced at Judy. “You’re in there more than I am. Did you enter?”
“I didn’t enter, but I would have if I had known.”
“Strange.” Tess laid the paper on her desk.
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Judy murmured. “If you can’t use the prize, I sure can.”
“I can use it. It will see me through the winter months.
I just don’t understand how I won if I didn’t enter.”
Tess continued sorting through mail. “Judy, you got mail too.” She handed the letter off to Judy.
“Oh drats. The pharmacy bill. I wonder why they sent it here? This and Christmas expenses are going to eat us alive.” She tore into the envelope.
“Where’s Brisco?” Bitterman asked.
“He’s sitting with his ill grandmother for the next couple of days.”
“What a shame. And here at Christmastime.”
Judy let out a yelp. Heads swiveled. Her mouth was moving but nothing came out.
“What?” Roni half rose out of her chair. “Did someone die?”
Judy waved the pharmacy bill, speechless.
Roni’s heart went out to her. Three children to feed, clothe, and buy medicine for. Utility bills were so high this time of year, plus the added holiday expenses. Judy’s emotional display seemed to indicate bad news.
“Don’t worry. I’ll help out — ”
Judy found her voice. “It says here I have a hundred dollar credit.”
“Credit?”
Judy’s expression deflated. “It’s a mistake, of course. But boy, for a minute there I was on cloud nine.”
Dusty unwrapped a peppermint and stuck it in his mouth. “Why not just sit there and enjoy the comfort for a moment.”
“Sorry Dustbo, but it has to be a computer error.” Judy sighed. “I owe at least two hundred or more. It’s been a terrible month, with the kids being sick and all.”
“Well, you just never know,” Dusty contended. “After all, this is the season of miracles.” Judy and Tess both looked up.
Roni suddenly caught the significance of Dusty’s words. The man was pure gold. An angel. Regardless of the town’s precarious situation, he had paid Tess’s grocery bill and Judy’s pharmaceutical nightmare. And though no one would ever know for certain, she’d bet he’d paid Brisco’s wages to save the town. Once Tess and Judy had time to think about it, she was sure they would reach the same conclusion.
“Dusty’s right, ladies. It is the season of miracles. You know … angels singing to shepherds, a virgin giving birth, and wise men from the east.”
When the door closed behind the insurance man Tess glanced at Roni. “Do you think he entered me in the drawing?”
“Nope. I don’t think he did.” The prize had come straight from Dusty Bitterman’s heart and bank account, the same way Judy’s pharmacy bill was paid in full with a hundred dollar credit.
Smiling, Roni turned on her computer. The Christmas spirit was alive and well in Nativity.
Why had she ever doubted?
12
When Jake’s Acura topped the hill overlooking Nativity around dark on Christmas Eve, the sight below caught him by surprise. The town sparkled with Christmas lights — lights that weren’t there two days ago. Nativity had found their Christmas.
Grandma had died sixteen hours earlier. She had drawn her last breath quietly and with dignity, following the pattern of her entire life. He sensed there should be a lesson for him in her years of holiday grief. While he’d been a child concerned only with childish things, she’d been an adult wrestling with life’s disenchantments. Now he was the adult, struggling with daily life.
He and Grandma had spent a day and a half talking.
He knew her and Nativity better now than if he’d spent his entire life growing up in the town. He’d never forget her last words. “I trust you to find the meaning of my Christmas gift to you this year, Jake. It’s the best present I’ve ever given.”
While her words made no sense at the time, he assumed that he would find a wrapped gift awaiting him when he fed Max later.
He slowed for a group of carolers crossing the street in front of the administration office, rolling down his windows for a breath of fresh air. His gaze strayed to the gazebo where Christmas carols blared. Delectable smells of hot chocolate and spiced cider filled the cheerful air. A new, freshly cut cedar stood on the sidewalk, decorated with strings of popcorn and cranberries. Mismatched ornaments — representatives of the lives of Nativity’s families — overflowed the tree. There was no theme or organized decorating scheme. Instead it held sentimental bauble from what he’d guess was almost every family in town. A group stood beside it, each pointing at their own contribution and sharing the story behind their trinket.
Because of the large crowd, Jake was forced to park at the rear of the building. As he climbed from the car, he heard Dusty Bitterman’s voice. “This one was my boy’s. I bought it for him the year he turned two.” Nadine, from the post office, followed. “My granddaughter made me this one when she was in the first grade.”
Instead of switching on lights, Jake followed the faint night-light burning in the mayor’s office. Dropping into his office chair, he leaned back and closed his eyes.
The emotional day had taken its toll. Grandma had everything in order. She would be cremated, and buried in Springfield at Eastlawn Cemetery, next to Grandpa. She requested a short memorial ser vice to be held in her church, and a family-only interment. The day after Christmas he would fulfill her wish. Everything would be taken care of; all Jake had to do now was face life without Grandma’s wisdom and emotional support.
Tipping his head back in the chair, he focused on the Nativity replica. Tiny pieces that represented so many lives — lives whose future he’d been entrusted with.
He felt empty. Like a rudderless ship going through life.
Outside the window, Christmas carols and laughter filled the night. Judy and her husband were strolling hand in hand through the maze of lighting, their faces lit with love. And then the thought hit him. Grandma’s final words made sense. This was the gift she’d given him this year. This town, this unquenchable spirit. Nativity with all its blemishes and blessings; the town Grandma knew and loved.
Roni. His eyes searched the gazebo area, but he failed to locate her.
His gaze shifted back to the town model in front of him. Grandma’s Christmas wish. The last gift that he could give her. The last, and like hers, the best. It lay in the model. All he had to do was search for it.
For over an hour he sat in the darkness, staring at the miniature town. Once or twice he moved a piece. On the third attempt, the scene suddenly clicked. Breaking into a grin, he picked up the city limits sign and reached for a piece of paper, then scribbled something.
Taping the sign over the original city limit marker, he eased a long line of tour buses poised to enter the town.
“Checkmate,” Jake said to himself.
Breezing into the hardware store, Roni couldn’t believe what she was about to do. Aaron glanced up, a smug grin crossing his boyish features. “Let me guess.”
“That’s hardly fair,” she accused. “Especially with my DNA smeared all over the front window.”
Walking around the counter, the clerk said. “I have one boxed and set aside with your name on it.”
Roni gasped. “How could you know I’d buy that lamp? A hundred and ninety-nine dollars is a rip-off.”
“Because it’s Christmas, and everyone overspends at Christmas.”
She handed him the money and then walked out of the hardware store, lamp in hand.
She’d done it. It was extravagant, silly, and utterly nonsensical. Anyone who hadn’t seen the movie wouldn’t understand the significance of the leg lamp, but Roni did.
And foolish or not, that lamp now sat in her parlor window. Of course, Mary’s hurricane lam
p would have been more apropos, but Christmas was born of the heart, and her heart swelled with cheerfulness when she gazed at the purchase. She’d have to scrimp for the next few weeks to make up the financial expenditure, and even though she most likely wouldn’t have a job by spring, she did not regret her decision. Change and risk were all that life guaranteed, and even that was fleeting. “I did it and I’m glad,” she said aloud as she stepped back to adjust the taupe shade. Supple light spilled from beneath it.
Jake. She missed him dreadfully. The office had been so quiet. She had tried to reach him all day, but he wasn’t answering his phone. Once, she’d called Mary’s room at St. John’s but there was no answer. Roni figured she was asleep and the nurse or Jake had stepped out, so she only let it ring a couple of times.
She started when she heard a knock on the window.
Bending closer, she peered out and saw Jake, hands stuffed in his coat pockets, staring through the pane.
She waved.
He waved back.
“What are you doing here?” she mouthed.
“Freezing. Open the door,” he mouthed back.
“Oh!” She turned and hurried to the front door and let him into the house. Shrugging out of his coat, he rubbed warmth back into his hands. “I see you finally bought that lamp.”
Color crept to her cheeks. “Yes. I know it’s a foolish purchase … I didn’t know that you knew I was admiring it.”
“Are you kidding? You looked like a little puppy wishing for a bone every time we walked past the hardware store.”
“Oh, yeah. I suppose I was pretty obvious. It’s foolish, isn’t it?”
He caught her hands, his eyes lit with emotion. “No, it isn’t foolish. If it makes you happy, then what’s foolish about it?”
“For one thing, the price. Another, some people have never seen A Christmas Story so they won’t identify with the lamp’s significance.”
His gaze locked with hers. “But you do.”
“Of course. And when I have children and grandchildren, we’ll watch A Christmas Story together and the lamp will be as meaningful to them as it is to me.”
The Christmas Lamp Page 8
