A Christmas Visitor

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Yes, it was wonderful. Very well said,” Matt added. Ben got the feeling there was some tension between them about this unexpected new family member. But they were a strong couple. He felt sure they would work it out.

  At least his message had touched one person listening, given them something to think about. That was the best he could hope for.

  MOLLY WENT BACK TO WORK THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. She was the first one in, partly because a number of her employees were off this week with their children home from school. At least she didn’t have that problem this year. Amanda and Lauren had left early that morning on a school trip for the senior class, and Jillian had been invited to go to Vermont for the week with Sam, Jessica, and her two cousins. It was just her and Matt in the house now. Things had been tense between them ever since Christmas Eve, which was the other reason she had come in early.

  Matt hadn’t wanted her to go in, but she had insisted. She was still booked with parties, the grand crescendo being New Year’s Eve. She had even hired extra employees, since so many of her key people were off.

  “Hi, I’m here,” Betty announced from the front door.

  “Come on back. I just made coffee,” Molly called.

  Her friend’s voice cheered Molly instantly. Betty had offered to come help at the shop for the week, knowing Molly was shorthanded. Even though she knew nothing about cooking, Betty had a great way with the clients and the staff. She also brought a new sense of organization to the business. Betty made up better schedules and typed out work procedures. She figured out the cost per serving of each dish and did much better pricing.

  Molly wasn’t looking forward to the week when Betty would return to her real estate office. But she had her now and so tried not to dwell on that.

  The cup is half full, okay? Can’t you remember that? she scolded herself.

  They worked together for a while, making pie crust, both of them absorbed in the soothing rhythm of work.

  “So, your Christmas Eve party turned out to be a big success anyway,” Betty said at last. “Even though nothing went the way you planned. Just goes to show, you have to be flexible sometimes, right?”

  Molly nodded. All she could remember now of that night was seeing her husband embracing Alex Cole.

  “Betty…something happened that night. I haven’t told anybody, so please don’t say a word about this to anyone.”

  Betty looked instantly concerned. “What is it? Is it the baby? Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, no, thank goodness. The baby is fine.” Molly patted her softly rounded stomach. “On Christmas Eve at the party, when I finally came downstairs, I had to go into the mudroom to get something. Root beer or something…” She took a breath. It was so hard to say the words out loud. “I saw Matt and Alex. Together…he…he…had his arms around her, and she was sort of…hugging him back, with her head on his shoulder.…”

  Her voice trailed off, she couldn’t say any more. She felt tears streaking her cheeks.

  Betty’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Oh, no…Molly.” She shook her head. “That couldn’t be. You must be jumping to conclusions.”

  “I know what I saw,” Molly insisted. “They were together. I saw it with my own eyes. She was crying, with her head on his shoulder.”

  Betty was quiet for a long moment. “I understand why you’re upset. Anybody would be. But you’re not being fair to Matt. You have to give him a chance to explain.”

  “I’m afraid to ask him,” Molly confessed. “What if he tells me something I don’t want to hear, like I’m right and he has feelings for Alex?”

  “I don’t think that’s the case at all. But on the one in a million chance it is, wouldn’t it be better to get this all out in the open rather than sit here, torturing yourself?”

  Molly nodded. She rolled the pastry up into neat balls and covered each one in plastic wrap. Betty watched her, then did the same.

  “You’re right,” Molly said finally. “I have to ask him. I have to know what’s going on.” She turned to Betty. “The girls are gone for the week. I’ll ask him tonight.”

  Molly went home early, feeling relieved to leave the shop in Betty’s capable hands. She showered and changed, then heated the elegant dinner she had brought home, salmon with citrus glaze, stir-fried vegetables, and little squares of toasted polenta with rosemary. Healthy, too. Dr. Cole couldn’t find fault with this meal, she was sure.

  She set the table with nice china and candles, trying to create a relaxed atmosphere. Relaxed enough to ask her husband if he was in love with another woman.…

  Matt came in and kissed her on the cheek. He seemed tired and flipped on the lights to read his mail without even noticing the candles. “What’s for dinner?”

  Molly answered, reciting the menu to him.

  “Oh…okay. I had fish for lunch, though.”

  “It’s healthy for you. Omega-three oils.”

  He nodded, skimming a letter. “Yes, I know.”

  She made up their dishes with an artful flair, set them on the table, and turned the lights down low. “Candles,” she said, pointing them out. “I thought it would be more relaxing. We can have a nice, quiet, leisurely dinner without the girls here, right?”

  “Right…it does seem quiet, though. Mind if I put the news on? I just want to see the headlines.”

  “Yes, I mind,” she told him, trying hard not to whine.

  He sat back and took a bite of salmon. “This is good,” he said quietly.

  “Thanks.”

  She could tell he didn’t like the salmon. He didn’t like fish very much. She should have brought home the lamb chops. Dinner wasn’t going well. Was it so hard for them to be together without a houseful of noisy teenage girls as distraction?

  “How was your day?” she asked. “Was the office very busy?”

  “Pretty quiet,” he said. “I was reading up for the conference mostly. There are going to be some excellent speakers, but I want to read their studies beforehand.”

  “The conference? What conference?”

  He looked at her curiously. “The conference at Yale Medical School, on juvenile diabetes. This coming weekend. I told you about it. You must have forgotten.”

  He sounded a bit annoyed. Molly felt confused. She was almost sure he had not mentioned going away this weekend. But maybe she had been so busy, her hard drive overloaded with information, that it had never registered.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. It must have slipped my mind.” She tried a bite of polenta. Tasty, but it had dried out a bit.

  “That’s okay.” He glanced at her. “Alex is going, too. She signed up a while ago, before she came down here.”

  Molly pushed her plate away. Dinner no longer seemed appetizing.

  “Interesting. No, you didn’t tell me about this trip. I’m positive.”

  “Of course I did. You must have forgotten,” Matt said again. “Sometimes, I’m not sure you hear half of what I say, Molly.”

  “Believe me, I would have remembered that,” Molly said.

  “What difference does it make? Are you afraid to stay here alone, is that it?”

  “No, of course not.” How could she tell him now what she was really afraid of?

  “It’s just one night away. I’ll be home Sunday night,” he promised.

  One night away with Alex was one too many in Molly’s book. She felt like she was going to blow her top again. But she knew that was not the right choice. And there was no way now to bring up the question she had planned to ask.

  After dinner, Molly stayed in the kitchen, cleaning up. Matt went into the family room and read a medical journal. He didn’t even notice when she went to bed early.

  THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS, BEN STAYED HOME AND took a well-deserved day off. On Thursday morning, he arrived at church at the usual time. He called Carl into the sanctuary. It was time to take down the angel.

  “Okay, on the count of three. Let’s just lift it off the pedestal and put it back in the crate.�
�

  “Not by the wings,” Carl warned. “You don’t want to hurt her.”

  “Of course not. Gently now…”

  It was a large piece, but surprisingly light. Several moments later the angel was back in the crate and the pedestal was bare.

  Ben had mixed feelings about packing the statue up again, but he felt it was the right thing to do. Carl seemed genuinely sad to see it back in the wooden crate.

  He watched as Ben covered it over with a piece of canvas and crunched-up handfuls of newspapers.

  “People are going to miss that statue,” Carl said solemnly. “It looked real good in the sanctuary, Reverend. It’s a small thing, but it made a big difference.”

  Well said, Ben thought. It was a small thing that had made a big difference, all right. He would never deny that.

  “The angel had its season, Carl.” And perhaps even encouraged a miracle or two. “But it doesn’t really belong in this church. I believe she’s only visiting.”

  “What will you do with it? Keep it down in the basement until next Christmas?”

  Put that way, it did seem wasteful.

  “I’m not sure, I’ve got to figure it out,” Ben said.

  He had some ideas but he wasn’t free to share them yet.

  MATT LEFT FOR NEW HAVEN VERY EARLY SATURDAY morning, while Molly was still asleep. The house seemed eerily empty when she woke up. She heard her own footsteps echoing in the big rooms and didn’t like the feeling. She dressed quickly and set off for her shop, not even lingering at home long enough to make coffee for herself.

  Several parties were booked for the weekend, more on New Year’s Eve, which was Monday, and even a few on New Year’s Day, including Madeline Norris’s brunch—Betty’s pet project.

  Luckily, Betty was still helping at the shop. Molly had expected her to overdose on a steady diet of nine-to-five catering, but her friend seemed to thrive on it. Betty had been right; she really was ready for a change. Molly didn’t know how she would have survived the week without her.

  Molly opened the shop to find the message light on the answering machine blinking. She pressed the play button. “Hi, Molly, it’s Sonya. Sorry but I just can’t make it in today. Brian is sick with strep throat and I don’t have anyone to stay with him…I think I might be catching it, too…”

  Molly didn’t know what to think. Sonya was never all that reliable. Then again, Molly knew what it was like to be a single mom. Hadn’t she been in that situation herself not so long ago? Stranded at home with a sick child, or just stretched to find child care during a school vacation. She felt annoyed with Sonya for a second, but it quickly passed.

  The problem was that Sonya was her best cook, which meant that now Molly would have to step up and do double the work in the kitchen. Hard, hot work at the stove, on her feet for the rest of the day.

  Molly was just donning her apron, stretching the long strings around her expanding middle, when Betty came in. “Morning,” she said cheerfully. “Did Matt leave for his conference?”

  “At the crack of dawn. He didn’t even wake me up to say good-bye.”

  “He probably wanted to let you sleep. I’m sure he’ll call later.” Betty poured herself a mug of coffee and took an apron from the hooks by the door.

  “Sonya called. She can’t come in today. Her son is sick.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Betty said.

  “I guess I’ll just have to take over her work. It doesn’t matter. There’s no one home. I can stay here until midnight if I have to.”

  Betty’s eyes widened. “You’ll do no such thing. You can’t do all that cooking yourself. We’ll just have to improvise. That restaurant supply place you sent me to has some great stuff in the freezer section. We can buy something basic and doctor it up with some special sauces or something.”

  Betty was amazing. She caught on real quick. But Molly still didn’t like the idea of serving anything less than the very best. “Betty, please. These clients are expecting duck comfit with ginger-plum glaze.”

  Betty looked insulted. “If you want to grow this business, you have to be flexible, Molly. You have to…let go a little. Now, let’s get out those recipe books and see if we can figure something out. I’m going to check the schedules, too. Maybe you can ask Rita or Lisa to work a few extra hours and pick up the slack. I’m not going to let you stand at that stove all day.”

  Betty stared her down. Molly felt herself finally giving in. Betty was one of the few people who could talk some sense into her, that was for sure. She was also great at juggling the staff schedules and coaxing people to go the extra mile. That was a rare talent, one Molly knew she didn’t possess.

  “Okay, let’s see what we can do.”

  Molly and the rest of her crew worked hard all day. She got home later than usual, but at least it wasn’t midnight. She went straight upstairs and collapsed on her bed, which she hadn’t even bothered to make before she left the house.

  Matt hadn’t called all day and she was too stubborn to call him. She had just drifted off to sleep when she heard the phone ring and then heard his voice on the answering machine.

  “Molly, are you there? I tried your cell before. I had a bad connection. I’m not sure if you got the message…”

  Oh, right. Sure. That was an easy out.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to him. She was too upset, afraid she would say something crazy. Then, just before he was about to hang up, she quickly rolled over and picked up. “Hey…I’m here. Sorry. I was sleeping.”

  “Sorry I woke you.”

  “That’s okay. I wanted to talk to you. How was your trip?”

  Three hours alone in the car with Alex Cole? Huh…?

  “It was fine. No traffic at that hour. The conference has been a mixed bag. These meetings are sometimes really boring, but the presentations are top-notch.”

  “I’m glad you’re having such a good time.” Her tone was flat, almost sarcastic.

  Matt didn’t say anything. She wondered if he was still there.

  “Are you all right?” he asked at last. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

  “I’m just tired. That’s all.”

  “You’re working too hard. You promised me you would cut back,” he reminded her.

  “It’s the busiest week of the year. How can I cut back?”

  “You’re pregnant, remember?” His voice sounded tight.

  She sighed and rested her hand protectively on her tummy. “Yes, I remember. You don’t need to keep reminding me, Matt.”

  She hadn’t meant to sound so sharp with him. Great move, Molly. Make your husband mad at you while he’s away for the weekend with another woman.

  “I don’t know what you mean lately, Molly. I just don’t understand you,” Matt said wearily. “Don’t you want this baby?”

  Matt’s voice sounded so sad and bleak, she wanted to cry.

  “Of course I do…it’s not that.”

  She did want the baby. She loved the baby already. Tonight she felt alone in the world, except for the baby’s company. They were alone together and she was grateful. It was Matt who felt distant, at odds with her.

  “What is it then? Can’t you tell me?”

  Molly couldn’t answer. She felt confused and couldn’t put her deepest feelings and fears into words for him. She was afraid she was losing his love. Even if it wasn’t Alex, she felt a distance between them lately that she couldn’t seem to bridge.

  “Honestly, I’m just tired. It’s not the best time to talk about all this.”

  He sighed heavily, and she wished with all her heart he was with her, so she could just put her arms around him.

  “All right. We’ll talk when I get home. I’ll call you tomorrow when I leave New Haven. Should I call you at the shop?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there.”

  “Why did I even bother to ask?” he said. “Good night, Molly.”

  She said good night and hung up the phone. Matt used to always say “I love you�
� when he said good-bye. Especially if he was away.

  Molly thought this was a bad sign. A very bad sign.

  “CAROLYN? WHERE ARE YOU?” BEN CAME DOWN FROM his study, clutching the printout of an e-mail he had just received. It was past eleven. Perhaps it wasn’t very late for most people on a Saturday night, but tomorrow was a workday for him, and Carolyn was an early-to-bed type. He wasn’t even sure she was still up, but then he heard the TV and went back to the den to look for her.

  “Look at this. I just received an answer from the Roman Catholic Dioceses in France. I wrote to them about the angel. Remember?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I do. What did they say?”

  “I can’t read it.” He laughed and held it out to her. “Do you remember any French from college?”

  “Oh, let me see…” She took the page from him and put on her glasses. “I think we have a French dictionary somewhere. Let’s give it a try.”

  They settled at the kitchen table, and Carolyn worked at translating the letter. Some time later, she thought she had the gist of it.

  “It starts with the usual things—thanks for contacting us, and so on,” she told him. “But then they write, ‘The church that was destroyed during the war has been rebuilt. The church officials do have a record of that statue and thought it had been plundered by the Germans. They will be delighted to receive their lost angel…’ I’m translating literally here,” she added.

  “Yes…yes, of course. Go on,” he said eagerly.

  “They will reimburse you for any costs.” She paused and looked up at him. “That’s basically it. How will you get it there?”

  “I’m not sure. Ship it, I guess, by air or by boat. I have to look into that part. But this is good news. I had been hoping I could send it back where it belonged.”

  “You never felt that angel really belonged in our church, did you, Ben?”

  Ben smiled at her. “There was always something about it for me that seemed to mark it as a visitor. A beautiful, strange visitor who had come to us for Christmas.”

  “And now,” Carolyn finished for him, “it’s time for her to go home.”

  * * *

  ON SUNDAY MORNING, MOLLY PERMITTED HERSELF TO sleep late. But by nine, she dragged her weary body out of bed, took a shower, and headed out again. Nearly ten hours of sleep had made little dent. She felt sluggish and sad about her fight with Matt the night before.