Tangled Lights and Silent Nights

by Kelly Stone Gamble

  LeTeisha is all about deep angst and angry heroes who take a bit more loving to smooth their rough edges. Love comes in many sizes, shapes, and colors, as well as with—or without—absolute beauty and fairy tale sweetness. She writes the darker tales because life is hard … but love is harder.

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  A Gift for Momma

  by Debbie S. TenBrink

  Jo Riskin dug her serving spoon into a tin of steaming scalloped potatoes and dropped a dollop onto the heavy paper plate that Lynae handed her. She held the plate out and met the eyes of the elderly man standing on the other side of the plastic covered table. “Merry Christmas to you, sir.”

  The old man aimed his piercing blue eyes at her. “A hot meal and people to share it with is all this old man needs to make Christmas merry.”

  “Then I’m glad we could make that happen. Would you like some help carrying your plate to the table?” she asked, eyeballing the intricately-carved wooden cane he leaned heavily on.

  “I can manage,” he mumbled as he took the plate in one shaky hand and gripped the cane with the other.

  “Of course you can,” she said, even as her fingers itched to reach out and steady the plate where the man’s dinner quivered and slid dangerously close to the edge.

  A little boy who was next in line looked up at the man, his soulful brown eyes peeking out from beneath a Detroit Lions stocking cap. He had come in by himself and hesitantly picked his way through the crowded tables to stand in line. His barely-worn winter coat and fleece-lined boots didn’t fit in with the rest of the crowd who gathered for a free meal at Our Daily Bread. He reached up and tapped the old man’s arm. “I can help.”

  The man looked over his shoulder and silently sized the boy up. He stroked his overgrown, gray beard then smiled warmly. “That would be nice.”

  The boy furrowed his brow and gave a sideways glance to the plate that Jo was taking from Lynae. She dropped potatoes onto the plate and leaned towards the boy. “What’s your name?”

  “Jerome.”

  “Don’t worry, Jerome, I’ll hold onto these for you. Just come right back to me after you help him.”

  Relief washed over Jerome’s face. He took the plate from the old man’s hand, then followed him to the table, matching his painfully slow gait. After setting the plate down he hustled to the drink station and brought back two cups of hot cocoa, then walked back to the serving line and waited as Jo filled a plate and handed it to a woman zipped into a sleeping bag with holes cut out for her arms and legs. He took a step back and stared wide-eyed as she walked past him holding an animated conversation with herself.

  Jo crooked her finger at the little boy and held up his plate. He smiled shyly and took it from her outstretched hand. “Are you here all alone?” she asked.

  The boy’s chin dropped to his chest. “Can I still have dinner?”

  Jo came around the table and squatted down in front of him. “Of course you can have dinner. I’ll even sneak you a little extra if you’re still hungry.”

  Jerome broke into a wide grin. “I really like ham.”

  “Then you just come right back to me if you want another piece.”

  “Thank you,” he said, then turned and went back to his seat.

  Jo kept an eye on him as she served the rest of the people in line. The old man had finished his food and was leaning forward deep in conversation with Jerome. When the last person filtered through the line, she pulled off the thin serving gloves that had melded themselves to her hands, pressed her fingers into her lower back and rolled her shoulders, working out the kinks that had settled in during the almost two-hours she had been standing in the food line. “Well, partner, it looks like the rush is over. I appreciate you spending your Christmas Eve here helping me out.”

  “There’s no place I’d rather be, and I’m not just saying that because you’re my Lieutenant and you carry a gun.”

  “You’re a good person. I take back everything I’ve been saying about you behind your back.”

  Jo dodged the open palm Lynae swung at the back of her head. “Oh, sure, you start the smack talk now that the rush is over.”

  “I’m no dummy.”

  “Besides you did invite me to spend Christmas with your family. I would do just about anything for your mom’s cooking.”

  “There will be apple pie.”

  “You had me at dinner.”

  “Well I’m glad you can be my date,” Jo said looking up at the banner that hung over the dining area: Merry Christmas from the Grand Rapids Police Department. Sponsored by the Mike Riskin Foundation. Jo had started the foundation after her husband was killed in the line of duty. Her heart ached at the thought of spending Christmas without him, but he would be proud of what they were doing tonight and that had to be enough. “I’m going to see what we have left in the kitchen. Keep an eye on Jerome, will you? I don’t want him to leave alone, but I sure don’t want him to leave with anyone else either.”

  “Got it.”

  Jo inventoried their supplies, then took every leftover cookie and brownie and put them on two trays. She slid two cookies and a brownie into a Ziplock bag and set them aside for Jerome to take with him, then pushed through the swinging kitchen door. “Woah!” she exclaimed, executing an impressive pirouette around the cane of the elderly man.

  “Excuse me,” he said, reaching with his free hand to help her stay on her feet. “I saw you go in there and thought maybe I could talk to you for a minute.”

  “Sure, what can I do for you?”

  “You’re a cop, right?”

  Jo lifted her chin. “Yes, I am.” She looked around him into the dining area, which remained relatively quiet. “Is there a problem?”

  “Our little friend, Jerome, he’s all alone,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

  “I know he is. I’ll make sure he gets home safely.”

  “Thing is, I don’t think he’s going home.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The man leaned in conspiratorially. “He told me all he wants for Christmas is to make his mom happy and to find a new family to live with.”

  Jo’s stomach clenched. “Did he tell you his last name or where his mom is? Anything else?”

  “No, ma’am. I figured you’re the police and I would tell you.” His brilliant blue eyes twinkled. “I believe he thinks I’m Santa Claus, so I should already know all those things.”

  Jo took in the man’s imposing size, white beard and engaging eyes. Couple that with the unique cane, and to a child he most certainly could be Santa. “Well I’m glad he met Santa while he was here. Thank you for bringing his situation to my attention.”

  “So you’ll take care of him?”

  “Yes I will. He’ll be safe with me.” She turned to survey the dining area teaming with people. Jerome sat safely in his seat, drinking hot cocoa. Some people milled about, but most sat quietly by themselves slowly eating the hearty meal. The few families that had come as a unit huddled in small groups, simulating a private family meal in the public place.

  Armed with this new information, Jo’s first order of business was to talk it through with her partner. Perhaps the gentleman Jerome had already confided in could get more information out of him. “What’s your name, sir?” she asked turning back to the stranger. He was gone. She did a full-circle scan of the room, but he was nowhere to be found.

  How did he get out of here so fast?

  She took her dessert trays back to the serving line where her crew stood chatting. “Nae, want to help me pass out some to-go desserts?”

  “You bet! I love being the h
ero.”

  Jo handed her a tray. “We have a problem.”

  “What, no chocolate chip left?” Lynae said eyeing the trays.

  “Even more important than chocolate.”

  “That’s a thing?”

  “I’m afraid so. It sounds like Jerome truly is by himself. At least according to the man who was sitting with him.”

  “Oh, no, poor little guy,” Lynae moaned.

  “It sounds like he has a family but wants to find a new one. I want to talk to him, but then I’ll have to get CPS involved.”

  “On Christmas?”

  Jo shrugged. “What choice do we have?”

  “Well, we’re detectives.”

  “We’re homicide detectives.”

  “What’s the difference?” Lynae asked.

  “Oh I don’t know, maybe everything. I’m used to a body, forensics, an autopsy, a killer. A victim who isn’t still alive.”

  “Come on, Lieutenant, clues are clues.”

  Jo sighed. “Let me talk to him and see what I can find out.”

  Lynae held out her free hand. “Give me your tray. I’ll get someone else to help pass these out.”

  “First call Missing Persons. Maybe there’s been a report filed and this will be easy,” Jo said as she handed over the tray. She snatched two chocolate chip cookies from it, then headed for the drink station. After getting herself some coffee and another cup of cocoa for Jerome, she eased into the seat across the table from the young boy who sat with his head down. She slid the cocoa and a cookie in front of him. “How was your dinner?”

  “Good,” he said quietly. He lifted his hands from his lap and laid a photo next to his plate. Keeping one hand protectively on the picture, he reached for the cookie.

  Jo glanced at the picture. Jerome and a lovely woman with spiral curls beamed at the camera. Her arm was wrapped protectively around his shoulder, his head tilted to touch the brightly-colored material of her shirt.

  “I understand you’re looking for a new family.”

  Jerome peered at her, his brown eyes melting her heart. “He told you?”

  “He’s worried about you and thought I could help.”

  “Do you know where I can find one? A new family, I mean.”

  “I’m a police officer. Why don’t you tell me why you need one.”

  Jerome’s eyes grew as wide as tea saucers. “You’re a cop? Am I in trouble?”

  “No, you’re not in trouble. I want to help you. I heard for Christmas you also want to make your mom happy. That’s very nice. Are you trying to find your mom? Is that what will make her happy?”

  Jerome shook his head. “No, I ran away to make her happy.”

  Jo’s heart sunk. Somewhere there was a frantic mother looking for her son. “Now how would running away make your mom happy?”

  “She has too many kids.”

  “Maybe we should talk to your mom and see if she thinks she has too many kids. Can you tell me your last name or your phone number?”

  He shrugged and took a bite of his cookie, avoiding eye contact. Jo took a sip of coffee and watched him over the rim of her cup. She had been a detective long enough to know the look. He wanted to tell her, but he was afraid he would get himself in trouble.

  Her phone signaled, and she glanced at a text message from Lynae: Nothing from missing persons.

  “I bet your mom is very worried about you,” she said gently.

  “She doesn’t know I’m gone. She’s at work.”

  “Do you know where your mom works?”

  His face scrunched into a picture of concentration. “No, but she’s always tired when she comes home.”

  Jo glanced back at the photo. That shirt could be a uniform. Scrubs?

  “Were you home alone?”

  “No, my sister’s there, but she won’t even care I’m gone,” he mumbled.

  “I’m sure that’s not true, Jerome.”

  “She just goes in her room and tells me to leave her alone.”

  Jo smiled. “That’s what big sister’s do.”

  “She’s nice to Lainey and Chapman.” He stared at the door and took a deep breath. “I have to go.”

  “Where are you going to go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s pretty cold outside.” She looked into her empty cup. “I’m going to get some more coffee. Why don’t you sit with me a little longer, and have another cup of cocoa before you go.”

  He nodded, blinking back tears. On her way to get drinks, Jo detoured to where Lynae stood talking to a young couple wrangling a squirming toddler. As she sidled up beside her partner, Lynae turned and grinned. “Speak of the devil. This is Lieutenant Riskin.”

  The man held out his hand. “Thank you for providing this meal for us. We don’t like to take handouts, but we fell on some hard times and this helps.”

  “As my husband used to say, “It’s not a handout, it’s making a meal for friends we haven’t met yet.”

  “Your husband sounds like a good man.”

  “He was a very good man.” She laid a hand on Lynae’s forearm. “When you have a minute.”

  “Right behind you.”

  After Lynae extricated herself from the young couple, she jostled through the crowd, swinging her now empty tray. Jo poured drinks while keeping an eye on Jerome until her partner joined her. “I need you to make a call for me. I’m afraid if Jerome sees me on the phone I may spook him into bolting.”

  “Of course, who am I calling?”

  “The hospitals. I think we’re looking for a nurse in her late thirties, African American, who has four kids. Jerome couldn’t have walked that far to get here so she has to live pretty close by.”

  “How do we know she’s a nurse?”

  “Jerome has a picture of him and his mom. I didn’t get a great look at it, but it appears she’s wearing scrubs.”

  “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” Lynae said pulling her phone from her pocket.

  Jo took her time getting back to her seat, keeping an eye on Jerome while stopping to talk to several patrons, giving Lynae as much time as possible to do her investigative work. When Lynae stepped out of the kitchen with a defeated look, Jo’s heart sunk.

  I’m going to have to call CPS on Christmas Eve.

  When Jerome pulled his coat on, she made a beeline for the table. She peered over his shoulder as he picked the photo up from its place next to his empty plate and slid it into an outside pocket of his backpack. Blue mittens dangled on strings from the wrist of his coat.

  Her shirt has tiny balloons on it. The hospital nurses wear plain navy.

  Jo whipped out her phone and tapped out a message to Lynae: Try the Children’s Hospital.

  Jerome slipped a cookie into his pocket then hoisted his backpack to his shoulder. Jo laid her hand over the little boys trembling fingers. “I’m not going to let you leave alone, Jerome.”

  “I can’t go back. Mom will be happier with one less mouth to feed,” he said, wiping away a stray tear that slid down his cheek.

  “Why don’t you show me what you have in your backpack, so I can be sure you have everything you need.”

  Jerome regarded her suspiciously then unzipped his bag and pulled out its contents: two shirts, one pair of pants, his teddy bear and a Bible. Jo bit her tongue as tears sprung to her eyes. “Looks like you have everything you need,” she said with a serious nod.

  Lynae waved a hand and gave Jo the thumbs up, then splayed her fingers. Ten minutes.

  Relief washed over Jo in a crashing wave.

  While Jerome slowly packed his belongings back into his bag, she watched the door. Finally, it swung open and a frantic woman rushed in, her head on a swivel scanning the room. Jo raised a hand, and when
the woman’s eyes landed on her son she dropped to her knees and burst into tears.

  “Does that look like someone who’s happy to have her little boy gone?” Jo asked.

  “Momma?” Jerome ran to his mom, flung himself into her outstretched arms and buried his face in her neck.

  The woman wrapped her arms around her son and rocked back and forth, as tears streamed down her face. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Why did you run away?”

  “I wanted to make you happy for Christmas.”

  “Baby, how would losing you make me happy?”

  Jerome shrugged. “I heard you tell Granny you have too many kids, and that if you didn’t have so many mouths to feed you could get a car and not have to take the bus to work. You could have lots of things that you want.”

  The woman dropped her head, her curls springing around her face. “I’m so sorry you heard that. Sometimes grown-ups say really dumb things that they don’t mean.” She took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. “You and your brother and sisters are the most important thing in the world to me. You are the greatest gifts I could ever have and I thank God every day for you.”

  “Breslyn would be happy if I was gone. She calls me little dork.”

  “She’ll deny it, but your sister loves you. And I’ll be having a talk with her about all this.”

  “Can we go home now?”

  “Well, I’m probably going to have to clear things up with the police, but we’ll get home as soon as we can. It’s Christmas Eve and we have so much to be thankful for.” The woman stood and looked at the crowd that had gathered around. “Who do I thank for bringing my boy home?”

  Jo stepped forward. “It was a team effort, but unfortunately, the man who started the ball rolling isn’t here any longer.”