Miracle at Midnight

by Stacia Wolf

  There were a few movies the reviewers called “chick flicks”, so Amara studied those. Some of them, if she clicked in the right place, popped up with short pieces of the movie. These seemed more like what she’d expect. She learned about modern love and relationships.

  Then the computer stopped working. She didn’t know why, but nothing she chose would show, and an annoying message that made no sense to her wouldn’t go away.

  “You have too many screens open.”

  Amara jumped, and found Sami standing beside her. The little girl pointed at the bottom of the glass.

  “See that? That means that your memory is all jumbled up. I did that before, when I was just learning how.”

  “Oh.” Life for a six-year-old was much different than what Amara would have expected. And her memory seemed fine, so Sami must mean the computer. “How do I fix it?”

  “Like this. You take the mouse and…” Sami took away the plastic thing, apparently a mouse, clicked a few times and everything went away. Amara breathed a sigh of relief. This computer thing was way over her head and told her way too much. She felt lost in a snowstorm of information and didn’t know what to do next.

  Then Sami did something remarkable and totally unexpected. She crawled onto Amara’s lap while still retaining ownership of the mouse. “Did you find your answer?”

  Amara shook her head. “You mean the true meaning of love? No, I didn’t expect to. But I needed to know more about your times.”

  Sami cocked her head as she started clicking buttons on the mouse. “Isn’t true love something that happens between a boy and a girl when they get older? Mom says she and Roger have true love.”

  Amara smiled. “No, I made that mistake the first time I guessed. He’s not looking for a ‘man-woman’ thing.”

  Yes, she’d tried that. She’d guessed “a life-time commitment and devotion between two people”. That, from listening to two lovers.

  “A love where you’d sacrifice your own goals for another.” That from am other talking about her children.

  “‘A love where you would change anything or do anything for another.” She’d found that from a brother who’d joined an army to free his family from poverty.

  “A feeling that raises you up above the pettiness of the world.” That from a nun.

  “A love where you know you cannot live without the other.” That from a young woman waiting for her beloved to come home from a war.

  “Love is the process of extending yourself to one another.” From a priest. She’d decided later he equated love with tithing.

  “An intense feeling of desire and oneness with another.” That she’d come up with on her own, after observing young couples defying their parents to be with the objects of their desires.

  “Love is eternal and unconditional.” That had been her last guess, and although she’d felt very strongly about it, it too had been wrong.

  Eight guesses. Eight failures.

  She didn’t think about the ninth time. That time, she’d not guessed. Instead, she’d plunged herself into the ice-filled river, intent upon ending her torment. And instead found herself back in statue form and fully awake for several years. It had been true horror.

  No, she wouldn’t think about that. Instead, she concentrated on Sami, who apparently knew her way about this computer rather well. She’d already started up more pictures, this one showing a cartoon mouse.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “Daddy set this up for me. It’s a game site for kids from Disney.”

  She understood games. She didn’t know what a “Disney” was. “So ‘Disney’ is the mouse?”

  Sami giggled. “No, silly, that’s Mickey Mouse.” She looked at Amara. “Is it okay if I play? Daddy won’t be awake for hours and hours, and I need something to do.”

  Amara nodded. And spent the next few hours getting to know Sami while the girl sat on her lap and played games. It felt good, having this little girl curled up against her, chattering away about all sorts of things.

  Despite her deadline, despite the darkness facing her, Amara had never felt so happy in her life.

  Chapter Three

  “Tell me again why we’re doing this,” Nick grumbled.

  Sami rolled her eyes as she tugged on one red mitten. “She wants to visit the priest, Daddy. And you said this is the only time he’s not busy.”

  Nick sighed, glancing down the hallway where Amara had disappeared when he’d asked her about a coat. “She could go alone.”

  “Daddy…”

  Nick contained a wince at Sami’s whine. She’d become very attached to this strange woman. Too attached. Nick already regretted letting her stay.

  Amara emerged, a fluffy white jacket with a fur-trimmed hood thankfully covering up her very distracting sweater.

  “That was in your bundle?” he asked.

  She smiled. “I’m a very good packer.” She thrust out a pink-gloved hand to Sami. “Ready to go?” Sami slipped her tiny—and vulnerable—hand in hers.

  Amara continued looking at Nick with a question in her eyes. “Sami asked me to go ice-skating with you. I hope that’s okay.”

  Nick nearly moaned in frustration. He’d planned this time to get to know Sami better, to spend time only with her. Now a total stranger—a crazy stranger—just showed up and horned in on his time with his daughter.

  But one look at Sami’s hopeful eyes, and all he could do was nod his acceptance.

  Sami squealed and Amara laughed. “You might not be so excited when you see how badly I skate. I’ve never tried before.”

  “Daddy can teach you. He taught me.” She looked up at Nick with those Daddy-is-Superman eyes he loved to see, only this time he wanted to run away from them. He didn’t want anything to do with the crazy statue lady, no matter how beautiful her eyes were or how her smile lifted him up somewhere he really didn’t want to go.

  Sami held him on the edge of an abyss with her gaze.

  “Right, Daddy?”

  And she shoved him right off the cliff. “Sure, honey.”

  * * *

  “You wanted to see a priest. We saw a priest.”

  Amara tamped down her growing impatience with Nick. He’d said that several times now, and she could only keep parroting the same thing. “That’s not the right priest. They said Father Lattigan will be here soon.”

  Nick glanced at his watch again. “It’s been a half an hour. We can come back later. Or Sami and I can go skating and you can stay.”

  “No, Daddy.”

  The office door opened, and an elderly priest entered. “I’m sorry for the wait,” he said, turning around and carefully shutting the door. He nodded at Nick, then smiled at Sami. “We’ve had a bit of excitement around here. Seems one of our statues—” His gaze fell on Amara. His eyes widened.

  “Oh, my.” He sat in his chair heavily, his gaze never leaving her face.

  “Hello, Father.” Strange, his voice seemed so familiar to her. Comforting, like an old friend.

  “Hello, child. Only you’re not a child, are you?” His pale gray eyes regarded her with a mixture of sadness and excitement. “I knew the legend, of course, but I never thought I’d live to see it.” He reached across his desk and squeezed her hand. “Yet here you are.”

  “Is this some joke?” Nick’s voice showed his shock, and his anger. “I’m being set up, aren’t I?”

  Father Lattigan frowned at him. “Please. I’m a man of God. I have no need to play games.” He turned his attention back to Amara. “I have so many questions for you.”

  His smile warmed her heart, and his belief in her plight made her so happy. She had two allies now. She glanced at Nick. And one very firm non-believer.

  “I have questions for you. But Nick and Sami want to go skating. They’ve been very kind and patient.”

  “Then let them go, and we can each satisfy our curiosity.”

  Amara laughed. “But I want to go too. I’ve never skated before. You see,” she sai
d gently, “this is my last chance. And considering my lack of success in the past, I want to enjoy my last few hours of freedom.”

  “Your last chance? Then all the more reason to stay and see if I can help you.”

  Amara glanced at Sami. “Father, you are very kind. But you see, I think that getting to know Sami is the key. She’s the first person to ever see me change.”

  “You saw that?” Father Lattigan looked at Sami in awe. “What a wonderful thing for you.”

  Sami didn’t return his smile. “What happens to Amara if we don’t help her?”

  “But we will help her,” he said. “Helping people is my life’s work.” He turned his attention to Nick. “Your father isn’t as believing as you.”

  “And you seem all too eager to believe it yourself,” Nick said.

  “When I bought the statue, of knew of its ‘habit’ of disappearing. I know of the legend as well, that the statue is the Countess Amara de la Cortese, who disappeared one Christmas Eve, on the same night the statue appeared.” He gazed at Amara, resting his chin on his steepled fingers. “So tell me what your quest consists of, and I’ll try to help you while you enjoy life.”

  “I’m to answer one question. What is the true meaning of love?”

  Father Lattigan’s eyes widened in surprise. “That can mean so many things. And for each person, it could vary. I’ll do a bit of research and when you come back, we’ll discuss it. But I’m afraid, child, that the asker of that question is looking for something very deep and very personal—to you.”

  * * *

  “Amara! Look at me!”

  Amara looked up at Sami, who did a two-legged spin, with her father standing a few short feet away. Then she grabbed his hand and did a one-legged spin.

  Amara dropped her fight with the impossibly long strings on the skates they’d rented and clapped vigorously. “Good job, Sami!”

  She looked at the strings balefully. She’d watched Nick tie his own, then Sami’s, and thought she could do it, but she’d been very, very wrong. It had looked like a simple bow, but what to do with all the string?

  She glanced around. The New York skyline loomed beyond the Central Park trees, fascinating Amara. She would never have believed buildings that tall could exist. And all the people. She’d seen more people than had lived in her entire town just on the walk to Wollman Rink.

  She turned her attention once more to the ice. There were quite a few people enjoying the crisp winter air, the pale sunshine. She hunted for Nick and Sami, and found the little girl several yards away practicing her spins. She didn’t see Nick until he surged out of the rink to kneel next to her.

  “Here, let me help you.” Without waiting for a reply, he picked up one foot and rested it on his bent knee. He wrapped the long strings around her leg, made a complicated gesture which ended up with two loops, then stuffed the remainder of the strings in the top of her skate.

  She stared at his handiwork as he swapped feet. “Thank you. You made it look so easy before, but I have to admit I would never have gotten it.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone over six who couldn’t tie their own shoes.” He glanced up at her, his dark brown gaze assessing. “You’ve almost convinced me that your fairy tale is true.” He finished tying her skate, then stood up and held out his leather-encased hand. “Come on, let’s get you out on the ice.”

  Tentatively, she placed her hand in his. He helped her up to her feet, then walked with her to the ice. He moved so well on those thin metal blades. Amara tried mimicking the way he walked and did quite well, she thought.

  Until they stepped on the ice.

  Then her feet went in opposite directions, and Amara found herself hanging onto Nick’s arm to stay semi-upright, while her butt stuck out behind her.

  Nick didn’t miss a step but just kept gliding toward Sami. Amara held on for dear life. She looked up at Nick and discovered him smiling at her.

  “Relax,” he said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  Yes, what was the worst that could happen? She’d fall. Compared to being a statue, falling would be welcome. With a laugh, she pulled on his hand, straightening herself up a bit. “You’re right. I’m going to enjoy this.” She tried moving her feet the way he did and had some success. “Yes, I’m going to have fun.” She smiled at Nick. “Just don’t let go.”

  They reached Sami, and after a minute or two of practicing moving her feet, Amara let them lead her around the rink a few times. The wind nipped her cheeks, music flooded her ears, and she knew that one tiny misstep and she’d fall flat.

  She loved it. It was life, and she loved it.

  “Okay,” she said after the third time around and only one fall. “I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what?” Sami asked.

  “I want to spin, just like you did. Well, not like you did.” She looked at Nick, whose dark hair had been ruffled by a soft breeze. “Spin me.”

  His eyes crinkled as he guided them carefully through the crowd. He seemed impossibly handsome. “Spin you?”

  “Yes. I want to feel how it is to twirl without a care. So spin me.”

  His mouth quirked. “All right. Just do what I do with my feet, okay?”

  She dropped Sami’s hand and took the other hand he offered her. And while copying his movements, she gripped both his hands tightly, leaned back as instructed and hoped to heaven that he’d not let go.

  They picked up speed and soon she felt like she flew over the ice. Her spirit soared and laughter burst out from her. Nick’s hands were her only link to the earth and his smile the only gift she ever wanted as she twirled and twirled.

  In five hundred years, she’d never felt so free.

  Chapter Four

  “So this is pizza?” Amara stared at the round pastry smothered in cheese with funny round slabs of meat all over it.

  “You’ve never had pizza?”

  She shook her head, aware of Sami and Nick watching her every move. They sat around Nick’s tiny dining room table, the one window framing a beautiful sunset. They were all happily tired after a day of skating and “window-shopping”. Amara had never thought staring through windows could be so much fun, but these weren’t ordinary windows. These were Christmas windows. Sami said her mom told her these windows were magical.

  Although a victim of magic herself, Amara didn’t think the displays were enchanted, just a marvel of the modern world. But she still enjoyed them. The elves, the moving trains, the dancing children, they all made Sami laugh, so Amara laughed as well. She even got over seeing images of Saint Nicholas, or as the Americans called him, Santa Claus, everywhere. Of course, they displayed a happier and fatter version of her tormenter, so it became rather easy to pretend it wasn’t him at all.

  They’d stopped a few blocks from Nick’s home and gotten a pizza for dinner. A New York style pizza, which apparently meant it was much better than ordinary pizzas Sami could get back home. Since Amara had nothing to compare it to, she let daughter and father joke around about toppings and whether things were truly “bigger in Texas”.

  Now, though, they expected her to eat this concoction, and with her hands, not with a fork or knife, something she’d used at special occasions when she’d been a Comtesse. She’d rather liked the fact eating utensils were widely used these days, but apparently not with pizza.

  So she picked up a slice and bent it slightly down the middle, like Nick did, and took a bite. Hot cheese, thick, chewy bread and tangy sauce. She chewed carefully, trying not to singe her tongue.

  “Very good.” She took a sip of water. “And very hot.”

  A few more bites told her she didn’t like the meat, called pepperoni, so Nick and Sami laughingly fought over the meat as she handed it to them.

  “You have been so kind to me,” Amara said. “I would like to make you a Buche de Noel.”

  “A what?” Nick asked.

  Amara smiled. “A Christmas cake. Over the centuries, it took place of our yule log, which
is what I grew up with. The last few awakenings, I’ve learned about this and would like to share it with you. It’s a cake, spread with filling, rolled up and frosted and decorated to look like a log. In France, this is on everyone’s table. I would like to share this with you.”

  “Weren’t you like a pampered princess? And you know how to cook?” Nick asked.

  “Please, I am French, we live for food.” She lifted her chin in mock-indignation, and Sami laughed.

  Nick frowned. “We have reservations at a local restaurant for a ham dinner. Pie’s included. I hate to see you go to too much trouble.”

  “Oh, Daddy, this sounds much better than pie,” Sami said, her small face lit with delight. “And Christmas dinner at a restaurant doesn’t sound very Christmassy.”

  “I know how to cook ham,” Amara said.

  Nick looked from Amara to his daughter. Over the few years since the divorce, she’d become a stranger to him, with a whole other life. He’d wanted to connect with her so badly this trip, and despite the presence of this strange woman, he felt they’d become closer. Perhaps this dinner would help?

  “I don’t have any of the food here,” he told them.

  Amara smiled. “You have a market close by, no? I’ll write down what we need, and we’ll go shopping. It will only take a moment.”

  Frowning, Nick glanced out the window. “I’m afraid you have a previous date, Comtesse.” He nodded toward the church. There, on the bench next to the now-missing statue, sat Father Lattigan.

  * * *

  Amara sat quietly in the dark living room of Nick’s apartment, the only sound that of the traffic outside. Hot tears stung her eyes.

  She’d pinned so much hope on Father Lattigan, but he’d offered her little more than empty advice. “Listen to your heart, child. Love isn’t ruled by logic or reason. It’s ruled by the heart. When it comes time, look there for your answer.”