A River Through Two Harbors

by Dennis Herschbach

  Sunday dawned one of those perfect December days. The sky was blue and cloudless, the snow was fresh and powdery, and the forecast was for temperatures in the mid-twenties.

  The four of them went sliding again on the Zoo hill, and afterward, they returned home to have hot chocolate with miniature marshmallows bobbing in the brown foam.

  Ben said, “Girls, I have a surprise for you after we eat supper and clean up the kitchen.”

  They begged him to tell what it was, but all Ben would say was, “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

  It was dark by four-thirty, and they ate early, tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, something easy to make and quick to clean up. By five-thirty they were on their way to Lakeside Park. As it came into view, Deidre could hear the girls inhale, followed by an “Oooh!”

  Acres of parkland were lit up by millions of tiny lights. Ben parked, and they got out of his car. Deidre made sure the girls were bundled up and wrapped a scarf more securely around Maren’s neck. Then they set out on the trek, a paved path that led them through a maze of animated figures made of wire outlined with lights: figure skaters and snowmen, Santa and elves, leaping reindeer and scurrying bunnies, all choreographed to move to the rhythm of Christmas carols.

  The place was alive with families and singles, grandparents and lovers, all enjoying the free cookies and cocoa being handed out by real, live Santa’s helpers. Everywhere she looked, Deidre saw people having fun, laughing and slurping hot drinks, their cheeks pink from the cold and their eyes a-sparkle with the season of giving.

  She looked up at Ben. “You are right.” was all she said.

  That evening she drove home, happier than she had been for several years.

  *****

  Deidre sat at her desk. Monday morning—she felt a letdown from the high she had experienced over the weekend. Two cups of coffee later, she was still feeling out of sorts.

  After the burst of excitement on the dock in Duluth with its huge shot of adrenaline, she looked at her meager office and was at odds ends. The FBI had pretty much taken over the trafficking investigation, and her days with the BCA were numbered. She wondered why she was even occupying office space.

  What affected her most was the realization that they really had not dried up the stream of girls being transported down Highway 61 from Thunder Bay, through Two Harbors, and to the ships arriving at the harbor in Duluth.

  Jill sensed her situation. “What will you do after this is over?” she asked Deidre, the tone of her voice telling of her concern.

  “I don’t know. Go back up to my cabin, I suppose. Wait out the winter and then see what summer brings.”

  Even as she said it, Deidre knew she would never be able to return to cabin life as it had been. She needed people. “How about you, Jill?”

  “I’ll go back into the secretarial pool. We’re hired on temp duty, filling in for vacations and special needs like this. I’ll volunteer at the shelter. Read a lot. That’s about it.”

  “You really don’t have anyone, do you?” Deidre asked without thinking.

  Jill shook her head and looked at the floor.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not much to say. I don’t get along with my mother, and my dad always takes her side. I left home when I was sixteen, because I was using drugs, and they finally gave me an ultimatum, either get treat­ment or they were going to turn me over to Social Services. I ran away and lived on the streets for a while. Now I’m here.”

  “What made a difference in your life. You’re extremely capable. You’re not on the streets. What happened to lift you out of your situation?”

  “I finally couldn’t stand who I was any longer, and tried to take the easy way out.”

  “Suicide?” Jill nodded.

  “I was taken to a hospital in Duluth to get help. There I met a most marvelous chaplain. He had experienced much of what I had. He spent hours with me, letting me talk and sharing his story with me. He got me into a women’s shelter in Duluth and lined me up to get some training in a business school, and, well, here I am. End of story.”

  “I hope not, Jill. I hope not.”

  Deidre got out of her chair and gave Jill a hug. “I really believe better days are ahead for you.”

  For the remainder of the week, Deidre felt as if she were in limbo. There wasn’t anything that made time drag like having nothing to do and no direction for the future. She was getting as antsy for Christmas Eve to arrive as were Megan and Maren.

  Evenings, she visited with Inga, took Pete for walks in the snow, and tried to wade her way through a tome written about events leading up to World War II. She wondered if people then thought society was getting so perverse that it could not endure.

  Deidre put the book down on her lap and pondered that question. She concluded that, if she had been alive then, she would have had the same feelings she had now. The world has always experienced turmoil, she thought, and she vowed to begin trying to concentrate on the good rather than the bad. Ben’s words from the other night had had a remarkable effect on her thinking.

  On Friday, she gave Jill the small present she had bought and wrapped. “This is for you,” she said as she handed the gift to her secretary. Tears welled up in Jill’s eyes as she carefully unwrapped what seemed to be a fragile object.

  “Oh, Deidre. This is lovely,” she gushed as she draped the silk scarf around her neck. Deidre had attached a pin to the scarf, and it gathered in and reflected the bright colors of the cloth.

  “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  Deidre was delighted by Jill’s reaction. “Have a wonderful Christmas, Jill. Are you doing anything special?”

  Jill looked a little embarrassed to answer. “I’m spending the holidays with a friend. We graduated from high school together and have reconnected through Facebook. He invited me to spend Christmas Day with him and his family. I’m worried sick about what he’ll think when he sees me in person.”

  Deidre tried to reassure her that he’d be crazy if he didn’t get to know her. They walked to their cars together, Jill to go to the shelter and Deidre to go to Duluth for the weekend and then Christmas.

  She never had been a good singer, but today she couldn’t help but sing a carol along with a crooner on the radio. In Duluth, she decided to stop at a coffee shop on the east end of town and debated about going by the drive-through window but decided to go inside to order. That way, she could doctor up her mocha the way she wanted it.

  Standing at the counter to place her order, she looked over her shoulder at the customers sitting at tables. Her heart dropped.

  At a corner table sat Ben and a very attractive young lady. He was holding her hands between his and was leaning forward. By his expression, she could see that he was talking intently to her, never breaking eye contact. Deidre offered up a silent prayer that he not look up and see her staring.

  The server handed her the cup of mocha she had ordered, and as she moved to put her money on the counter, the loose coins slid through her fingers and clattered on the floor. Her hands trembled so she could hardly hold the cup, and some of its contents splashed out.

  “Are you okay, lady?” the worker asked, shocked.

  “Yes . . . yes, I’m okay,” she said and hurried out the door.

  On the way past a trash can, she threw the half-full cup in the bin. In her car, she put her head on its steering wheel, choked back her sobs, but couldn’t stop the tears from dribbling off her chin. She held no anger, only an aching hurt.

  Wiping the tears from her eyes, she managed to make it through the Christmas rush traffic and arrived at Ben’s before he did.

  “Were you crying, Deidre?” Megan wanted to know.

  Deidre answered honestly. “Yes, I feel sad today, but I’ll be okay. Let me go wash my face
before Daddy gets home.”

  She climbed the stairs to her room and ran cold water over a washcloth, wrung out the excess, and placed it over her tear-swollen eyes. After several minutes, she looked in the mirror. Some of the swelling had subsided and the redness was not quite as noticeable as it had been. She put on a new layer of makeup and went downstairs.

  Just as her foot hit the bottom step, Ben came through the door, stomped the snow from his boots, and took off his jacket.

  “Daddy,” Maren said when he stooped to give her his ritual kiss, “Deidre is sad today.”

  Ben went over and wrapped his arms around her. “You’ve been crying. Your day must have been as bad as mine.” Deidre couldn’t help her reaction, and she felt her body stiffen as he touched her.

  “That bad, huh? Well, I’ll go first. I got a call this morning from my uncle’s granddaughter. Her father is the same age as my dad, so even though she’s officially my cousin, twice removed, she’s only three years younger than me. Because of the similarity in our ages, we grew up together more like sister and brother than second cousins. To make a long story short, she wanted to have a cup of coffee with me and talk about a problem she’s having with her boyfriend. We met at that little place on London Road on the East End. When she told me he had hit her during a recent argument, I told her to pack her bags and run, told her if she needed a place to stay, she was welcome here. So, what was so wrong with your day?”

  Deidre felt her face flush, and she hid it on his chest. Finally, she murmured, “Nothing. Just me behaving like a foolish schoolgirl. Give me a minute for attitude adjustment, and I’ll be right down.”

  She turned tail and ran up the stairs to her room, where she flopped on the bed, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. In the end, she became angry at herself for jumping to conclusions. She stood up, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and looked in the mirror. “Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who’s the craziest of them all?” The mirror didn’t answer, which she took as a good sign.

  “Sorry about that,” she apologized as she made what felt to her like a grand entrance. All three were standing at the bottom of the stairway, watching her descend. She chuckled at the thought of a grand entrance, and no one asked questions.

  Chapter 26

  Ben had made an Advent Calendar for the girls, a stack of twenty-five compartments in the shape of a Christmas tree. Behind each compartment door was a symbol of Christmas. Today, the twenty-second of December, it was Megan’s turn to open it. With great diligence, she pried the small hatch open, reached in, and took out a miniature dove.

  “Do you know what that is?” Ben asked.

  “I know,” Maren exclaimed, wildly waving her hand. “It’s a bird.”

  “Ah, but what kind of bird?”

  The girls thought for a moment. “A pigeon?” Megan asked rather than answered.

  “Close,” Ben laughed. “It’s a dove. What does a dove represent?”

  “What does ‘represent’ mean?” Maren asked, her brow furrowed.

  Deidre covered her mouth.

  “It means what does it stand for.” Ben answered patiently.

  After a lengthy silence he said, “It stands for peace.”

  “Oh, you mean like when people don’t shoot each other?”

  “Well, something like that.” Ben decided that was enough of a lesson, and decided to leave morality to another day. “Who wants pancakes for breakfast?”

  Both girls’ hand shot up. “I do. Hooray!” and they ran off to get their dolls.

  Somehow, everyone made it through the weekend, and Monday became a grueling day for the twins.

  “Daddy, can’t we open just one present today. We promise not to bug you anymore if we can open just one,” they whined so many times that Ben had to make an edict.

  “Every time you ask to open a gift early, I’m going to tack a half hour on to when we start opening them on Christmas Eve. Be careful what you say or it might be Christmas Day before we open gifts.”

  The girls’ eyes widened in surprise, and they went off into the other room. Deidre and Ben could hear them whispering, perhaps wondering if they should test the law. For the rest of the day, they never mentioned the subject again, but every so often one of them, or both, would go to the base of the tree and read the labels on the presents again. Deidre watched them count who had how many gifts.

  That night, Ben and Deidre allowed them to stay up an hour past their bedtime, and they made hot apple cider to go with the cookies Deidre and the girls had made that afternoon.

  When they were being tucked in for the night, Megan and Maren were like “wiggly worms” as Deidre said.

  “We are not wiggly worms!”

  “Oh, yes, you are!”

  “Are not!”

  “Are too,” and Deidre pretended to pin Megan down with her quilt.

  “Okay,” Ben had to say, “It’s time for sleep. Settle down now and close your eyes.”

  Deidre watched as both children lay perfectly still on their backs, their eyelids closed, but behind the closed lids she could see the movement of their eyes, and she knew what would happen the instant she and Ben left their room.

  He turned on the night light and turned off the bed lamp. As soon as the two of them were in the hall, they could hear giggling and moving around.

  “I think we’re losing the battle,” Ben whispered in Deidre’s ear, and they tiptoed down the stairs to the living room, where they sat and squinted at the tree lights so that star-burst patterns were created.

  A perfect day is coming to a close, Deidre thought.

  “An end to a perfect day,” Ben declared out loud. She nodded.

  *****

  Christmas Eve Day began with a chorus of voices at Deidre’s door. Ben and the girls stood outside singing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” followed by an off-key version of “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.”

  She looked at her clock, 7:25, threw on her robe and opened her door.

  “We get to open presents tonight!” Maren excitedly exclaimed. Megan took her hand and led her to the stairs.

  “Daddy made a special Christmas breakfast for us. Come see!”

  Ben had made French toast by cutting the bread slices in the shape of an evergreen tree with a cookie cutter. After frying them in the usual manner, he had decorated each tree with colored sprinkles and blue berries. Then he dusted them with powdered sugar, making his creation look like a winter scene. It had to have taken him an hour, Deidre thought.

  The “family” sat down to their Christmas Eve breakfast feast, complete with crispy bacon and eggnog.

  “We usually go to church on Christmas Eve. Will you join us, Deidre, or would you rather stay home?”

  In her entire life, she had never attended a Christmas service, or very few others for that matter. She thought for a moment, and then saw the expectant looks in the twins eyes. “Okay, should be fun,” she said, not completely sure she really wanted to attend.

  That afternoon they all went to the largest mall in the city and watched shoppers frantically rushing to make their last-minute gift selections. They stopped to hear a choir singing in the mall’s rotunda. It was a good choir, singing excerpts from some of the old masters, Bach, Handel, and others, and Deidre let her spirit soar with the notes. She realized she had taken Ben’s hand, and he was gently squeezing hers.

  Supper was a simple smorgasbord, set so everyone could fix what they wanted from several selections. It also made for a quick cleanup, and Megan and Maren were all too eager to help. By six, they were ready to gather around the tree. Ben put on a Santa cap, and began rummaging under the tree. “Let’s see,” he said examining a tag. “This one is for Maren. Can you read who it’s from?”

  Maren squinted, and Deidre could see she was trying to sound out the name. “Meg .
. . an. Megan!” She ripped the wrapping from the gift her sister had so carefully wrapped.

  The scene was repeated over and over, everyone taking a turn while the others oohed and aahed over the gifts. Finally, there was only one round of gifts left to open. Ben opened the one from Deidre and his eyes lit up when he pulled out the new sleeping bag.

  “Why, thank you! I didn’t know you were even listening when I told you about my old one having a hole burned in it.”

  Unexpectedly, he leaned over and kissed Deidre’s cheek. That really caused the girls to giggle. He handed her the gift he had bought.

  The package was quite large and rectangular. Deidre shook it, but nothing rattled. She methodically peeled the paper off and carefully loosened the tape holding the seams. The girls squirmed and shifted their positions. Megan stood by her shoulder in anticipation of what would be revealed. She lifted the top off the box.

  “Oh, Ben. This is beautiful.” She held up an authentic Norwegian-made sweater. Knitted into the fabric were traditional Scandinavian designs. The clasps in front looked to be handmade of silver.

  She held it up to her front and felt the heft of the fabric. Deidre buried her face in the wool to hide her tears. Then she looked up. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” and she gave Ben a hug that lasted many seconds. She felt his arms wrap around her, cuddling her and the sweater together.

  “One more! There’s one more!” Maren shouted. “It’s from Deidre.”

  Ben moved the very large box into the center of the room, and the girls attacked it, pieces of paper flying in every direction. When the dollhouse was exposed, their mouths dropped open, and they sat on the floor for a moment, stunned.

  Maren picked up the transparent package that held the dolls. “Look, Megan. It’s a family. There’s Daddy, and this one is you, and this one is me.” She pointed to the female figure. “Is this you, Deidre?” she asked, her eyes pleading for the answer she wanted. Deidre wasn’t quite sure how to respond.