“If it helps,” Hattie said in a gentle voice, “James was extremely sorry for what happened. Esther has all the letters he wrote to me during that time, shortly before he died . . . He confessed to everything in those letters, and he was very remorseful. Maybe you should read them too, Jimmy. It might help you understand better. Do you mind, Esther?”
“Not at all. I think it’s a good idea. They’re probably still on his desk.”
Hattie left to go get them, and Jimmy leaned back in his chair. “I feel like somebody just knocked the wind out of me, Mom. Like I can’t quite catch my breath.”
“I know. Believe me, I know.”
“Does Christine know about this yet?”
“Hattie told her.”
“How did she take it?”
“She was understandably upset.”
“Maybe that’s why she left the house early today. Felicity was complaining about that tonight. She thought Christine was just being flaky.”
“Flaky is not a word I would use to describe your half sister.”
Jimmy’s eyes opened wide. “You’re absolutely right, Mom. Wow, I hadn’t even thought of it like that. This would make her my half sister.” He almost smiled. “Well, that’s pretty cool.”
Esther felt a small wave of relief.
“What’s pretty cool?” Felicity snapped as she stepped back into the room, her eyes still red and swollen from crying.
“Christine is my half sister,” Jimmy said with genuine enthusiasm. “I knew there was something familiar about that girl. She felt like family to me.” Now he was grinning. “That means she’s Jamie and Casey’s aunt. Man, that’s so cool.”
“Oh, Jimmy!” Felicity sank back into her chair, folded her arms across her chest, and scowled at him. “How do we even know this is true? I mean, Christine waltzes in here out of nowhere, and then she starts making all these claims and painting your dad out to be some sort of pervert who raped—”
“Felicity!” Esther felt her nostrils flare in anger, an unattractive habit she normally tried to avoid. “That is enough!” she said in her sternest voice. “You obviously don’t have your facts straight about any of this.”
“That’s right, Felice,” Jimmy said more gently. “Aunt Hattie has letters from Dad, confessing the whole thing to her.”
“And here they are.” Aunt Hattie set the bundle in front of Jimmy.
“Are you sure they’re authentic?” Felicity asked in a small voice.
“Of course,” Hattie said, slightly affronted. “Do you think I’d make something like this up about my own beloved brother? It was hard enough for me to know about this personally. Can you imagine how I struggled before I decided to tell the rest of you?”
“But the good news is that this makes Christine my half sister,” Jimmy said. “And she’s your niece, Aunt Hattie.”
Hattie smiled. “Yes, I know. I’m so pleased.”
“And my granddaughter,” Esther said. “That is, if she hasn’t given up on the bunch of us for jerking her around like this. Poor girl. She probably thinks she’s suddenly landed in the loony family.”
“Well, hopefully, we can make it up to her tomorrow,” Hattie said.
“This will be her first Christmas with us,” Jimmy said. “Our family is growing.”
“So are we still on for the party?” Felicity asked in a tired voice. “Not that I really care so much anymore. Fact is, I wish I’d never agreed to this party in the first place. At the rate we’re going, the whole thing will probably be a total disaster anyway.”
“It’s going to be okay, Felice,” Jimmy reassured her.
“Yeah, right.” She looked unconvinced. “Well, maybe we can stand around the Christmas tree and announce that the late great James Daniels was really a fraud who raped his stepdaughter.”
“Felicity!” Jimmy’s eyes narrowed, and Esther suspected that his wife had pushed it too far even for him this time. “That’s totally uncalled for.”
“Well, you people are so into making the truth known. Maybe everyone in town should know about this nasty little business. Maybe we should take out an ad—”
“Knock it off!” Jimmy stood. “I think we should go now. I’m sorry, Mom, Aunt Hattie. Felicity spoke way out of line just now.”
“Don’t apologize for me.” Felicity stood up and reached for her coat slung over the back of her chair. “I’m not a child, you know.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
She looked at Jimmy as if he’d slapped her, and then she hurried from the room.
“Thanks for dinner,” Jimmy said briskly. He jerked his arms into his jacket and shook his head. “Hopefully, Felicity and I can get this smoothed over before we ruin the holidays completely.”
“Hopefully,” Esther said without getting up.
“Good-night,” Hattie said, ever cheerful. “Drive safely on the snow.”
Esther exhaled loudly after the front door closed. “Well.”
“Now, that didn’t go too badly,” Hattie said with a funny little grin.
Esther looked at her sister-in-law in wonder, and then they both laughed.
“I just hope Christine is all right,” Esther said as she refolded her napkin and set it beside the plate.
“Well, I know I’ll be saying a special prayer for that sweet little girl tonight.”
Esther felt her brows lift slightly. “Really, Hattie? You’ve actually become a praying woman?”
She smiled. “Indeed, I have.”
“Does this mean you believe in God and go to church and do all those churchy things that churchy people do?”
“I do believe in God, Esther, and I do go to church when I have a notion to. And I do pray and even read my Bible on occasion. But I wouldn’t necessarily classify myself as a churchy person. I suppose it truly is hard to teach an old dog new tricks.”
“So what on earth brought all this on?” Esther knew her voice sounded skeptical, perhaps even harsh, but she couldn’t help herself. “I remember when you and Hal used to carouse and drink and gamble in Vegas with the best of them.”
Hattie winked at her. “I figured at my age it was best to cover all my bets regarding the hereafter. I decided if God really was up there, and if he really did care about old Hattie, well, I thought it might be wise for old Hattie to give him a fair shot. And you know what, I think he does.”
Esther considered this. “Very interesting, Hattie.”
“You should give it some thought yourself, Esther. No offense, but you aren’t getting any younger either.”
“Thanks a lot.”
Hattie’s lips pressed together, and she grew quiet as if she were contemplating something. “There’s another thing, Esther.”
“Oh, no . . . ” Esther held up her hands. “If it’s more bad news about James, well, you better just sit on it for the time being. I’m not sure if I can handle anything else—”
“No, no, nothing like that. It’s not anything bad. But you’re right, it is about James. It’s something he said to me on the phone about a week or so before he passed away.”
Esther took in a quick breath, braced herself, and waited for Hattie to continue.
“At the time I wasn’t too sure what to think. To be honest, I was still quite irked with him. Oh, I’d forgiven him all right, how could I not? But I secretly resented that he’d dumped this whole nasty business into my lap. It reminded me of when we were kids and he’d do something wrong and old Hattie would take the blame. But that evening when he called me, he told me that he’d made his peace with God. Now, I wasn’t too sure what he meant by that. At that time in my life, I hadn’t given God a second thought. But all these years later, I like to believe he meant that he’d received God’s forgiveness. Although this is partial speculation on my part. But those were his words. He said, ‘Don’t worry about me, Hattie. I’ve made my peace with God.’ And not long after that he died.”
“Oh.” Esther looked at the messy table before them and sighed. “Let’s
just leave this until tomorrow. I’m completely exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
“You and me both, Esther.”
Esther imagined how the two of them must look as they slowly made their way through the semidarkened house. She, old and angular and clumsier than usual as she fumbled along on her crutches, and Hattie, short and round, taking her quick little steps alongside her. What a pair they made.
When Esther finally got herself into bed, she felt completely drained, but as she closed her eyes she thought of Christine and suddenly remembered what Hattie had said about praying for her tonight. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot herself. At least she could do it for her granddaughter’s sake, since she seemed to take this God thing pretty seriously.
“Well, God . . . ,” she began slowly, “I know we’re not really on much of a first name basis quite yet . . . I’m not even sure we’ll ever be. But if you’re up there listening, will you please watch out for my dear granddaughter tonight? Take care of her and bring her back to us safe and sound for Christmas. I’d really appreciate that. Amen.”
Without bothering to remove her snow-dusted parka, Christine went straight for the phone in her dorm room. Her hands felt shaky as she attempted to dial the correct digits for the long-distance number to the mission station. Thankfully, she got it right the first time. She sighed in relief when a woman with an accent confirmed this on the other end. But when she asked for her father, she felt her heart drop to her snow-encrusted boots.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said, “but Mr. Bradley has gone to spend the holidays with the Richards family. Their station is in the jungle, but we can reach your father by radio if it’s an emergency.”
“No, no . . .” Christine sighed. “It’s not an emergency.”
“Did you call to wish him a Merry Christmas?”
“Yes,” Christine said sadly. “I’m sure he’s having a wonderful time.”
“Oh yes,” the woman said. “Your father is a sweet man. He was taking a lot of goodies out to share with the villagers. He’s like a regular Saint Nick.”
Despite herself, Christine smiled. “Yes, he is.”
“God bless you,” the woman said.
Christine hung up the phone and tried to imagine what it would be like to be down in Brazil, where summer was in full bloom right now. As much as she’d looked forward to a white Christmas, she would trade it in a heartbeat just to be down there in the heat and humidity with her dad.
“A regular Saint Nick,” she said to herself. And even though it was the middle of the afternoon, she flopped down on her bed in total defeat. “So what would you do, Dad, if you were in my shoes right now?” The tears she’d been holding back began to fall freely. Not only for herself, although, to be honest, she was desperately homesick and lonely, more than she had ever been in her life. But mostly she felt sad for her mother—rather, her birth mother—Lenore. To think what that poor girl, a year younger than Christine, had endured during the last year of her life. So unfair and unjust. Christine could hardly even imagine it. It was so wrong!
“How could you let that happen to her, God?” she demanded. “And then to just let her die after all she’d been through? What was the purpose in all that?”
But no answers came, and before long the loneliness and emptiness of the vacated dormitory began to press against her, almost like a physical thing, breathing down her neck in short, chilly breaths. To remain in the isolation of that room for one more moment felt unendurable. So she pulled on her parka and gloves and headed over to her church. She hoped she might catch Pastor Reinhart and ask him some of these perplexing questions. He might not have all the answers, but at least he’d listen.
But when she arrived at the old brick church on Oak Street, she suddenly remembered that they’d opened their doors to offer shelter to the homeless during the holidays. Apparently, they did this every year at Christmastime. There was a homeless shelter downtown and a mission, but those ministries catered mostly to single adults. But the church went out of their way to create a special place where homeless families could gather and feel comfortable for a few days. Of course, Christine had been so distracted with her grandmother’s family and all her related problems that she’d completely wiped it from her mind.
“Christine,” Beth Maxwell called when Christine had barely reached the office. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for Pastor Reinhart.”
“He’s in the kitchen at the moment.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey,” Beth said hopefully, “before you skitter away, what are you doing the rest of the day?”
Christine shrugged. “Not much.”
“Well, we’re a little shorthanded,” Beth said. Then she explained how she had broken the shelter kids into three age groups. “The teens are being treated to a free Christmas shopping spree at the local discount store, followed by a movie. And the middle graders are on their way to the skating rink, but the little kids were supposed to hang out here at the church for craft projects, snacks, and a special Christmas video.”
“Sounds good.”
“The problem is that Candace Everly was supposed to be in charge of the little kids today, but her own kids just came down with the chicken pox, so she had to stay home. So we could really use your help, if you’re willing.”
“Sure,” Christine said. Actually, she was happy to oblige. The last thing she wanted right now was to return to her ghost-town dorm and then sit around feeling sorry for herself. Instead she spent an amazingly stress-free afternoon with the youngest of the kids. Her biggest worry was whether or not they would run out of sequins and glitter as she helped their sticky little fingers cut and glue pieces of colored felt until they finally resembled Christmas stockings. She was surprised at how the time seemed to fly, and even after her responsibilities with the children were finished, Christine offered to stay on and help with dinner too.
“This is awfully nice of you, Christine,” Pastor Reinhart said as she helped clean up afterward.
“Actually, it’s kind of selfish,” she admitted. “It helps keep my mind off of my own family troubles.”
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
But her problems suddenly seemed small in comparison with the problems of the families her church was trying to serve. She couldn’t help but notice how poor they seemed, or how many of the parents’ faces looked so apathetic or hopeless. She couldn’t imagine how it would feel to be broke and homeless, especially during Christmas. And then to have children depending on them as well. It was so incredibly sad. But at least they had each other. That was something.
She felt reluctant to leave when Beth offered her a lift home. Of course, she knew it would be silly for her to take up one of the precious beds in the church’s makeshift shelter, but it seemed almost preferable to returning to her empty dorm. In some ways she wasn’t much more than homeless herself. Just the same, she accepted the ride and was thankful not to have to walk through what now appeared to be almost six inches of accumulated snow.
“Are you sure you want to stay by yourself at the dorm during Christmas?” Beth asked for the third time. She’d been incredulous that Christine had chosen to spend her holidays by herself at the dorm. “Really,” she assured her. “You know you’d be welcome at my house.”
“Thanks,” Christine said. “But I’m fine, really. And I plan to come help out at the shelter again tomorrow, and then there’s the candlelight service later on. Before I know it, Christmas will be over and done with and winter classes will be starting up again.”
“Okay,” Beth said. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Christine trudged up the steps to her dorm, her tracks the only ones breaking into the most recent layer of snow. Of course, it made no sense to shovel the steps when the dorm was mostly empty. Plus, it was the holidays and the maintenance people were probably enjoying some time off. It also made little sense to run the big furnace at full blast, and a no
tice had been posted before winter break so that students would be prepared for the cooler temperatures. But it seemed to be getting colder and colder with each passing night.
Christine tried to imagine her dad in a steamy jungle setting, dressed as a jolly old elf and handing out gifts to the surprised indigenous locals and missionary kids. But suddenly all she could think of was poisonous spiders, gigantic snakes, and prowling panthers . . . and to her it seemed more perilous than ever for her sweet and unsuspecting father to be so far from home. She fervently prayed for his safety until she finally fell asleep.
Esther peered out the front window again. Long, blue shadows were falling across the snow, and the little white lights had come on and were starting to twinkle with false cheer. “Has anyone heard anything from Christine?” she asked.
“I’ve left two messages at her dorm,” Jimmy said as he set a load of birch logs in the basket next to the fireplace. “Mind if I start this fire up now?”
“Go ahead,” Felicity called from the dining room, where Esther had observed her arranging enough food to feed a small army. “We want it going nicely when the guests start to arrive.”
“It’s warm enough in here already,” Esther snapped as she headed back toward her dining room to survey Felicity’s latest damages. Felicity might be all gladness and joy today, and she’d even apologized for her thoughtless remarks last night, but Esther still felt certain that young woman was out to sabotage them all.
“Open a window if you’re too warm,” Felicity called in a voice as sweet as her heavily frosted Santa cookies.
It had grated on Esther’s nerves all day—the way her daughter-in-law had waltzed in here as if everything was just fine. Oh, she’d done her little apology, with Jimmy at her elbow as if he’d personally coached her on the drive over. But Esther wasn’t convinced. Now she hovered around Felicity, feeling a bit like a vulture on crutches. Scowling from her position in the doorway, she watched as Felicity flitted around the ornately decorated dining room table in her pretty red velvet party dress. Queen for a day, Esther thought as she turned in disgust, heading for the solitude of the den, what used to be James’s den but was now her only haven in this normally quiet house that had suddenly turned into a three-ring circus. Well, let them party if they must, she thought as she closed the door behind her. Let stupid Felicity have her fun!
The Gift of Christmas Present Page 14
