A Christmas Promise

by Thomas Kinkade

  Then another voice, even stronger and unequivocal, filled him. But the love I feel for her is still there, no matter what she’s done. I love her and she’s out there, all alone, running away, trying to hide from that man. She needs me now, more than ever. She needs my help and protection.

  He took a deep breath and wiped his hands across his eyes. He might have been crying, he wasn’t sure. He turned to Vera, who sat silently on the staircase, looking numb and, for once in her life, dumbstruck.

  “I’m going out to look for her. She can’t be far. Maybe she’s waiting someplace until that man goes away, so she can come back.”

  Vera looked up at him, as if shaken from a daze. “Come back? Come back here? Didn’t you hear what he said? She’s a criminal. She stole money—”

  “Vera.” His sharp tone silenced her. “I’m not going to judge Leigh and reject her just because of what that investigator said. We never met the man before today. We’ve lived with Leigh now for weeks. That must count for something. Before I decide she’s a criminal, I at least want to hear what she has to say.”

  He pulled on his parka and grabbed his keys from his pocket. “I’ll call you later. Don’t wait up for me though.”

  Vera glanced at him then down at the floor again. “That isn’t even her name, you know. Her real name isn’t even Leigh.”

  The quiet comment stopped him in his tracks. He stared at her a moment, then shut the door.

  JAMES HEARD KNOCKING ON THE WINDOW. HE SLOWLY OPENED HIS eyes, feeling as if his eyelids were made of sandpaper. He tried to turn his head, a major kink in his neck halting his progress. He had fallen asleep in his car—at the beach, he realized. His body felt cramped and sore, as if he had been stuffed into the trunk instead of curled up on the front seat.

  Ben’s face peered through the window, as if James were a fish in a bowl.

  “Are you all right?”

  James watched him mouth the words and nodded. Finally, he opened the door and slowly unfolded his aching body.

  “I’m sorry I missed church this morning, Ben. . . . I tried to call you.”

  Ben stared at him with an incredulous look. “That’s the least of it, I’d say. Did you sleep in there all night?”

  James turned his head from side to side, trying to loosen the stiff muscles. “I drove around for a while, a long time actually. I thought maybe I could find her . . . stupid, right?”

  He laughed at himself, at his gullibility, at his willingness to believe her and even chase after her.

  Ben didn’t answer right away. “You drove around. Then what?”

  James shrugged. “I didn’t feel like going back to Vera’s. I’m sorry if she got worried. I did call to tell her I was all right.” He stared out at the ocean. “I came here around daybreak. I parked and fell asleep.”

  Actually, he had prayed for a long time, then fallen asleep. Ben noticed the bagpipes in the backseat of the car. “Did you play your pipes out here?”

  “I just keep them back there sometimes.”

  Ben stuck his hands in his pockets. A light wind ruffled his hair. “Would you play something for me now? I haven’t heard you in a while.”

  James nearly laughed out loud at the request. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Not at all. Let’s take a walk. It’s not cold out here at the moment. We can walk and you can play.”

  Ben’s suggestion seemed as good a plan as any. James took the pipes from the backseat of the car and slung them over his shoulder.

  James fitted the main pipe into his mouth and began to play, and together they started toward the sea. Ben walked beside him, seeming unaffected by the noise level, nodding his head in time to the music. They walked for a distance, several songs’ worth of shoreline. Then James stopped to catch his breath.

  “That was fine. ‘Greensleeves,’ right?”

  James nodded. “Everybody loves ‘Greensleeves.’ ”

  “A haunting melody, poetic lyrics, too.” Ben picked up a stone and tossed it into the water. It skipped twice and sank into the waves. “I used to be very good at skipping stones as a boy, a real champion. You should have seen me.”

  “I believe you.” James slipped off the pipes and sat down on the sand. “That’s my problem. I believe anything people tell me.”

  “I wouldn’t call that a problem, more like a blessing.”

  Ben sat down next to him and sifted a handful of sand through his fingers.

  Neither of the men talked for a long time. Then James finally spoke, staring out at the sea.

  “I loved her, Ben. I loved her very much and she lied to me. The whole time, she was lying.” James felt his voice tight in his throat. “No wonder she kept saying I was such a good person, and she didn’t feel comfortable having me help her so much. . . .”

  Ben reached out and touched his arm. James stopped talking and swallowed hard.

  “I don’t know what went on between the two of you, James. I’m not even sure if you really know right now.” Ben spoke slowly, and James sensed that he was carefully choosing his words. “But I believe that you did love her, that you still do. And from what I’ve heard from you and Vera and known of her myself . . . well, I’m sure that no matter what she’s done, there was some good in it between you. Does that make any sense to you?”

  James started to reply and stopped himself. He felt so empty and numb, as if he had nothing left to say or feel about anything.

  “I don’t know if this investigator’s story about Leigh is true,” Ben went on. “But I do know that no one is all good or all bad. Life would be much simpler if we were, but God’s design is much more intricate, much more mysterious and challenging.”

  “I won’t argue with that, but there’s such a thing as the truth.”

  “Pinning down the truth about a person is a funny thing,” Ben said. “I often find, the more I try to get my hands around it, to dissect and analyze it, the more it slips away. It eludes me.” He lifted another handful of sand and let it fall through his open fingers.

  “Are you trying to tell me it doesn’t matter?”

  Ben shook his head. “Of course it matters. Love always matters. Love is God working through us, James. You know that. ‘He that loveth not, knoweth not God . . .’ ”

  “ ‘ . . . for God is love,’ ” James replied quietly, completing the verse from the First Epistle of John. He sighed and stared out at the water.

  Ben didn’t speak for a moment, but when he did his tone was low and persistent. “Real love is indescribable and unconditional. If that’s the kind of love you felt for Leigh, the love you still feel, it’s a gift. It’s a miracle. A blessing to you both, even though it might not feel that way right now, even if you don’t understand God’s purpose in this love He’s given you.”

  “I don’t,” James admitted sadly. He shook his head. “I don’t feel it’s much of a blessing either, Ben. Truthfully, it feels more like another cross I’ve been sent to bear. What can it all mean? I have no idea, except that I seem to have proved myself a complete fool.”

  “Maybe,” Ben agreed. He picked up a shell, looked it over, and tossed it away again. “Maybe being a fool over Leigh was God’s purpose for you. I couldn’t really say. I think it takes a long time to understand what a person means to you, what purpose they played in your life—even when it’s someone close to us whom we live with day in and day out, or someone we may have lost decades ago. Every time you glance over your shoulder, the image shifts and changes meaning. Sometimes, it takes a lifetime to see it clearly.”

  James considered his words, thinking of people he had known. He’d certainly experienced losses and heartbreak before this one. No one can pass through this mortal life without them. But this felt different somehow. He had been blindsided. He didn’t know how to handle it.

  James was silent for a while, letting his gaze rest on the sea and finding comfort in its ever-changing beauty. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer.

  “I’ve decided something
out here this morning,” he said. “I’m going back to the mission. I’m not going to worry about what the doctor said last week. I think he exaggerated to put a scare in me.”

  “I don’t know about you, but he terrified me,” Ben said honestly.

  James bit back a smile and forged ahead with his explanation. “Look, I know you think this is just a reaction to Leigh. But it isn’t, Ben . . . at least not entirely. I’m not running away. It’s just that there’s nothing holding me here now. I have important work to do and I’ve neglected it too long. I’ll feel better if I’m busy, back where I belong. Work is good medicine, Ben, the best I’ve found. I know it’s what I really need now. There’s really no reason for me to stay here any longer.”

  Ben took a breath, looking as if James had announced he was going to run straight into the icy cold surf.

  “You clearly have a calling, James. I’ve never questioned that. But stop a minute, think this through. You can at least wait until Christmas, can’t you? I mean, it’s only a few days from now.”

  James nodded. “I guess so. Will that make any difference?”

  “It will make a difference to me—and to the congregation.”

  James saw his point. He had been so lost in his pain, he had forgotten his obligations. “Of course I’ll stay. You’re right. I shouldn’t just leave you flat.”

  “You shouldn’t leave us at all, though I know someday you’ll need to. But at the right time, James, when the dust has settled and you can see your way clearly.”

  James didn’t reply. He looked out at the water again then down the shoreline. He spotted the lighthouse, and couldn’t help but recall the day he had come here with Leigh—how he had promised that they would come back and walk all the way to the light.

  It was a funny feeling, realizing that wouldn’t happen now. As if something precious had been stolen away from him, a golden day, true happiness, the kind you could feel seep right into every part of you, like the warmth of the sun.

  She was a thief, he decided. She had truly robbed him.

  EMILY WAS HOLDING DAN’S HAND UNDER HER MOTHER’S DINING ROOM table. She glanced at him and he gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. He leaned forward and she saw the edge of the white envelope inside his sports coat’s breast pocket. The wedding question was finally settled between the two of them, and they had vowed to stick to their solution. Now if she could only find a way to spring it on her family. . . .

  “Well, that just goes to show, you never know about a person. Believe me, I’ve learned that lesson by bitter experience.” Lillian Warwick nodded righteously, her silver fork hovering in the air as she spoke. “Everyone in this town is far too trusting. Any flimflam artist can walk right in and get away with the crown jewels.”

  Sara, who sat across from Emily, raised her eyebrows. “What crown jewels? I thought we were in America.”

  “You know very well what I mean,” Lillian snapped.

  Sara bit back a smile and Emily again marveled at her daughter. She was perhaps the only person in all of Cape Light who was completely unintimidated by Lillian Warwick.

  Jessica spoke up before her mother could continue. “Leigh Baxter seemed to be a very nice person, Mother. Did you ever meet her?”

  Lillian made a huffing sound. “A nice person. Now what does that mean?”

  “She was . . . nice. Very quiet and unassuming.” Emily shrugged. “Molly said she was great with Dr. Harding’s patients, and she absolutely rescued the costumes for the children’s choir. Everyone liked her. The women at church even gave her a baby shower.”

  “And now she’s skipped town—with all the baby gifts, I’ll bet. She’s probably planning to sell them or something.”

  “Actually, I heard she left everything, even her clothes,” Sara said in a more serious tone.

  “Well, that’s some compensation. Maybe the gifts can be returned. I wish I could say the same about my own belongings.” Lillian fixed her daughters with her trademark glare. “Half my house is all over town today, thanks to that infernal rummage sale. . . .”

  “The fair was very successful this year,” Sam said. “The church raised a lot of money.”

  “Lucky that con artist didn’t run off with that, too.”

  “Mother, can we please talk about something other than con artists?” Emily asked.

  Lillian replied with an indignant sniff then smoothed down the buttons of her sweater.

  Jessica sat up very straight in her chair, and Emily saw her nudge Sam with her elbow. He looked back at Jessica and smiled.

  “We have something to tell everyone today,” Jessica began. She was beaming now, her fair skin glowing. Emily already guessed what her sister had to say and felt a rush of sheer happiness.

  “I just want you all to know . . . that Sam and I are expecting a baby.”

  Emily clapped her hands together. “I knew it! I could just tell by the look on your face. Congratulations!”

  Lillian pursed her lips. “Well. That is news.”

  Emily couldn’t tell if her mother was happy, surprised, or simply had such mixed feelings about motherhood, she didn’t know how to react.

  Dan jumped up and shook Sam’s hand, then leaned far across the table to kiss Jessica’s cheek. Sara hugged both her aunt and her uncle while Emily ran around the table and waited her turn.

  “I’m so happy for both of you,” she said.

  “When is the baby due?” Sara asked Jessica.

  “Not until August—if everything works out okay.” Jessica sounded more subdued now, Emily thought, with good reason.

  “Of course it will. August is a perfect time for a new baby.”

  “It seems far off. But it’s going to take at least that long to get used to the idea,” Sam admitted.

  “The time goes by quickly,” Lillian said. She cast a disapproving look at Emily and Dan. “I hope the two of you will be back from your sojourn by then.”

  “We’ll only be gone for six weeks,” Dan said. “Remind me to give you our itinerary.”

  “Yes, do that. I’m going to get a map and stick little pins in it to chart your progress. It will provide some distraction for the rest of the winter.”

  Emily couldn’t quite tell if her mother was joking or not. She wanted to laugh but didn’t quite dare.

  “That reminds me.” Dan sounded perfectly casual. “We have something to show everyone.” He glanced at Emily then slipped his hand into his sports jacket and pulled out the white envelope.

  Emily saw her mother’s startled expression as she put her hand to her throat. “Don’t tell me. You’ve run off and gotten married at some drive-thru window.”

  “It’s not our marriage certificate, Mother. But you’re close,” Emily praised her.

  Sara leaned forward eagerly, nearly tipping her water goblet. “What is it? Let me see. . . . What have you two been up to?”

  Standing now, Dan seemed to be enjoying building the suspense. He held the envelope out for everyone to see. “And the nominees are . . . for Most Elegant Bride in a last-minute production . . .”

  “Dan, please. Just show them what it is.” Emily couldn’t help it. She just wanted to get this over with.

  “Sorry, You’re right. Here it is, folks. . . .” He pulled out the sheet of paper and unfolded it then held it up for everyone to see. “Emily and I thought we should give you all some advance warning. This is sort of a notice, I guess, that will run on the front page of tomorrow’s Messenger. I still happen to have some connections at the paper,” he added modestly.

  “Get to the point, man. What does it say? I can’t bloody well read it from here at my age.” Lillian shifted in her chair, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

  Unfazed by her outburst, Dan slipped on his reading glasses and looked down at the page. “It says, and I quote, ‘Ms. Emily Louise Warwick and Mr. Daniel Theodore Forbes respectfully request the honor of your presence at their marriage, to be performed at one o’clock in the afternoon on Saturday, January third.
The ceremony and reception will take place at the Gazebo on the Village Green, Cape Light, Massachusetts. Any and all are warmly invited to attend.’ ”

  He’d barely finished when Emily heard a loud thump from the other end of the table and the china and silver flatware rattling in response. She turned to see that her mother had pounded her fist on the table and now sat with her hand in the air, ready to do it again.

  “You can’t be serious! Have the two of you gone insane?”

  “Mother, please, calm down. You’re going to make yourself sick.” Jessica rose and quickly went to her mother’s side. She glanced nervously at Emily. Emily remained seated; she’d expected something like this and had even warned Dan. She wasn’t at all surprised.

  “Make myself sick? I’d rather go into a coma right here than die of shame on January third . . . for all the world to see.” Lillian put her hand to her chest. “You’ve done this on purpose, to embarrass me. Admit it, Emily. I know how you think.”

  “Mother, please. It’s my wedding. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “I’ll say it doesn’t. You don’t give a fig about my opinion. Or my feelings. You never did—”

  “Please, just calm down a minute. Dan and I went back and forth about this for weeks. This is what we’ve decided to do. I think it’s going to be perfect.”

  Dan spoke up, his tone calm and blithe, a sharp contrast to Lillian’s thunderous expression. “I know it seems a bit extreme, Lillian. But Emily wasn’t really going to be happy until we invited the entire town so it seemed like the perfect solution.”

  “Mother, please. It’s our day. Don’t spoil it for me.”

  “Oh, I won’t spoil it for you, miss. Don’t worry. I won’t be there to spoil it. Go and make a public fool of yourself. Get married on a flying trapeze with a rose between your teeth. See what I care!”

  Emily watched, appalled, as her mother stood up and grabbed her cane, then hobbled off toward the living room at a surprisingly quick pace.

  Emily got up to go after her but Dan touched her arm. “Let her cool off for a while. She’ll be all right.”

  “Dan’s right,” Sam said. He was doing a poor job of keeping a straight face. “But how long does it take for a nuclear reactor to cool down? Do we need protective gear or anything?”