by Jody Day
Thank you for the opportunity. I regret that I cannot stay.
All the best,
Evan Edwards.
He set the note on the opened Bible. He went to unplug the Christmas tree, but then sat back and admired it once again. When he pushed his glasses back into place, his cheeks were wet. “Boudreaux would love this.” Disgusted, he unplugged the tree, tossed his backpack over his shoulder and opened the front door.
Risé had her hand raised to knock.
“Oh, hi, I was just leaving.” Evan avoided her eyes.
“Where you going? I just came over to thank you for yesterday. I really appreciate it. I don’t think he’ll bother me again.” Peppermint wafted on her breath. Her hair waved softly in the wind.
He was staring at her, mute, but what did it matter? He’d be a vague history for her in a very few seconds.
“Won’t you ask me in?” She took a step toward him.
“I was just leaving, back to school, actually.” He shut the door, locked it, and put the key back under the pot.
“But you can’t. You promised to play for the children’s program tomorrow morning,” she said, holding out the score to him.
“Oh, I forgot. I’m sorry, I really have to get back. I can’t practice here, now that my mom and her boyfriend have come. It’s too distracting.” He took a step toward his car in the driveway.
Her mood changed and her blue eyes darkened. “Is it possible for any man alive to be dependable? To keep his promises?” Tears squeezed out of her eyes.
“I’m not like that Risé.” He opened his car door and tossed in his pack.
“Oh? Yet here you are bailing on me, leaving me to face all those children with no one to play for their program. What do you care, anyway?” She started to cross the street, but whirled around. “Can you at least teach me how to do it? I can’t let them down.” She walked back to him with the open score in her hand.
“Teach you, you mean tonight?”
“Yes, tonight. The play is in the morning.”
“So you have some musical knowledge, can read the notes?” He took the score from her and flipped the pages. “Seems easy enough.”
“No, I know nothing about it. You teach me, and I’ll play tomorrow.” She stepped to the front door.
He laughed. “Seriously? You’d have to study at least a year, probably two, to play this music.”
“You’re laughing at me? At least I’m trying. Please, Evan. Either teach me or stay. You don’t want to be responsible for breaking children’s hearts on Christmas Eve, do you?” She knelt and retrieved the key.
“Oh, all right. Give it here.” He unlocked the door and went inside.
Risé followed.
He went to the piano and set the score on the rack. He played the first song.
“Yes,” Risé said. “That’s just the prelude. Then the kids come in and do their first bit. After that it’s just song, skit, repeat.” She sat on the piano bench beside him as he played through the entire short musical. “You’ll do it then?” Risé put her hand on his arm. “Please?”
“Oh, OK. But then I have to leave.”
“You don’t have to, but if you insist, leave us.” Tears rolled out, which she hastily wiped away.
What was she crying about? She certainly hadn’t shown any interest. He guessed it was too much chaos for her lately. “Did you tell your Dad about nursing school?” he asked.
“Yes, all is well. He just wanted to make sure I didn’t make all those changes because of his condition. We’re good.” She didn’t move her arm from his.
He turned toward her warm, minty breath, her face so close to his. He couldn’t ever remember being in this dream zone except when he played.
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “It’s been a crazy few days. It’s nice to sit here in peace for a minute.”
He put his arm around her, and with his other hand, caressed her cheek. She didn’t flinch, but kissed his hand.
The music score slipped off the rack and thunked the piano keys. The dream cracked.
“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry. I…I better go. I’ll meet you at the church at nine sharp tomorrow. Good night, Evan.” She rushed out the door.
Evan looked at his hands. All his life his hands had been an instrument of his musical passion. Now his were the hands that had touched her silken cheek, held her close to him. Speculating about what had warmed her up to him was useless. It didn’t matter. A place opened in his heart that he hadn’t known was closed. He whispered, “Merry Christmas”, and then played through his recital twice in a row, flawlessly. He saved the Chopin for last. The last, hopeful chord gave him more than hope.
Love.
8
Besides feeling dumb that she’d let herself get close to someone she didn’t really know, Evan was also not a man of faith. Yet she felt as though she’d known him all her life. She’d apologized, claimed she was just tired, and it had been a hard day. His reaction surprised her. He’d taken off his glasses, blinked, lowered his head, then met her gaze.
“OK.”
She couldn’t read his emotion. Was it disappointment, embarrassment? Certainly not ambivalence.
He’d pulled the children’s musical score from his backpack, got out of his vehicle, and walked toward the church.
Most guys she’d turned down for a date usually responded with their pride and ego intact, as though it didn’t really matter. Somehow it seemed to matter to Evan. She couldn’t stop thinking about that moment sitting next to him on the piano bench. It was, well... She searched her mind for a word.
Right.
She’d just experienced a difficult breakup of a two year relationship. She had no business even considering a new one.
Now, she sat next to him on the church piano bench, and it didn’t feel at all like the night before.
He played the children’s songs with sensitivity to their lack of musicianship, listened intently to Risé’s cues, and even played the congregational hymns.
At the end, Pastor Langford stood. The little shepherds, toddler sheep and angels, and tiny Mary and Joseph on the stage wiggled a bit.
“Now that was pretty special, children. We’re all so proud of you,” Pastor Langford exclaimed.
The congregation joined in another round of applause.
Pastor then listed some announcements about upcoming events, prayer requests, and praise reports. One of the angels and little Mary had begun to play tug of war with baby Jesus. Both fell back on their bottoms, and the doll flew up and hit Pastor on the back. He laughed as he bent to pick up the doll and cradled it in his arms.
The adults in charge of the program led the children off-stage.
“It’s true isn’t it? We fall flat when we let go of Jesus. I’ll have to thank the kids for that sermon idea.”
Everyone laughed except Evan. What was going through his mind?
Pastor Langford set the doll on his podium. “Seriously, now, though, I know it’s Christmas Eve, and I want to give you plenty of time with your families for this special holiday, so I’ll let you go shortly. I just want to encourage you to find time in your celebrations to focus on the reason for the season.” He glanced at Evan.
“Mrs. Burkett usually plays softly while Pastor talks at the end,” Risé whispered.
“Play what?” he whispered back.
“Anything.”
The hymnbook was still open to Silent Night; he played it soft and slow.
Pastor smiled. “Perfect, Evan, thank you. Folks we’re so blessed to have Evan Edwards stand in for Mrs. Burkett. Be sure and give him a proper hello as we leave today. I love the part of the song where it says, “Son of God, love’s pure light. Radiant beams from thy holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace. Jesus, Lord at thy birth. The dawn of redeeming grace—the day the light came on in this dark world. That holy Child came to die for us, to take our place on the cross, to replace everything that is missing, and to give us a purpose. Hallelujah and Amen, right? L
et’s all stand and join with Christians everywhere today singing ‘Christ the Savior is born!’”
Evan segued into an introduction perfectly, and the congregation sang.
Risé joined her father as streams of praise permeated the room. A kind of hush fell over the church as the last chord ended.
“Amen, and Merry Christmas!” Pastor Langford said.
Evan played Joy to the World as the people started milling around and visiting. Risé couldn’t leave Evan alone in this room full of people he didn’t know, but Pastor Langford had snagged him, and they seemed to be in a serious conversation.
She said a silent prayer, and then visited with her church family.
Evan tapped her on the shoulder. “I guess I’m heading out, back to school.”
“But what about Carol and Fin?” she asked.
“I’ve done what they asked me to do. If you’ll ask them to call me when they’re ready for the decorations to come down, I’ll return and do it for them.” He handed her the musical score.
“By the way, Mr. Carter did say that the chef daughter across the street would be preparing the Christmas dinner for them. He said to be your runner. Can I go to the store or something for you before I leave?” He avoided her eyes.
“Well, we usually invite them over to share our meal with us, but maybe Carol has to stay in bed or something. It’s no trouble. Dad and I can take our meal over to their house.”
George sidled up to Risé and gave her a hug. “I think that little angel is wearing that same costume your mom made for you years ago.”
“I thought so, too. I’m surprised it’s still holding together.” How could she convince Evan to stay? Conflicted feelings about him or no, she didn’t like the thought of him spending Christmas alone.
“I’m thinking of the buffet restaurant so Risé doesn’t have to cook this afternoon. Join us, Evan?” George asked.
Evan shook his hand. “Thanks, but no. I have to get back. I really need to practice for my recital, and it’s too”—he looked toward the stained glass windows—“Distracting here now. As I told Risé just now, I’ll come back and take down the Carters’ lights.”
She followed his gaze to the windows, but didn’t see anything unusual.
“I see. Thanks for your help today. You did an amazing job.” George clasped Evan’s shoulder. “You’re a fine young man. I’m so grateful for what you did for Risé the other day.”
Evan smiled and nodded. He reached his hand out for a shake from Risé.
No way. “Can I ride with you, Evan? I want to look in the Carters’ pantry and fridge, maybe see what I can lay in for them before they get home. Maybe you can go to the store for me.”
“Good idea, Risé. I’ll get our lunch and bring it home. Meet you there later,” George said.
“I guess,” Evan said with a shrug.
A few minutes later they were once again in the car heading back to the Carters’. Evan stared straight ahead.
She decided to break the silence. “You did an amazing job today. I’m kind of in awe of your talent. God really uses you. I felt His presence as you played. What a gift.”
He flinched and glanced at her. “What? You think God used me?”
“Yes, a gift that special has a purpose. You have something that makes a difference.”
They hadn’t talked about what his plans were for his music. A twinge of guilt tugged at her heart. She hadn’t really asked him much about him. “I noticed you and Pastor having quite the convo. May I ask what that was about?”
“I just had a few questions.” He didn’t offer more, so she just prayed he’d gotten answers.
Evan didn’t say another word.
They arrived at the Carters’.
He didn’t even turn the engine off.
“Would you come in and help me make a list?” she asked as she got out.
“You can’t do that by yourself? I thought I’d get on down the road.”
“Please, Evan. I might need your help for errands after all.” She stood by the open passenger door, leaning in for his answer.
“Oh, all right.” He switched off the car, got out, and slammed the door.
Mercy. She probably should have let him go. Something nagged her to talk to him.
He retrieved the key from under the plant and unlocked the door.
Risé grabbed the mail from the box by the door as she walked in.
They went into the kitchen and Evan sat at the table.
Risé tossed the mail on the table near him, and then opened the refrigerator door. “Write this down,” she said. “Milk, eggs…” She ticked off a few more items and then turned to face him.
“Are you writing this down? What’s the matter?”
He was staring, wide-eyed, a horrified expression on his face as he peered at the East Texas Times newspaper on the table.
“What in the world is it?” she asked, and walked around to stand beside him. She read the headline aloud. “Lavish Christmas Fundraiser to be held at Frond Street Mansion in Crandle.” The subtitle read “Music Producer Francis Cartier to Return from Europe for the Event.”
Evan dropped his head into his hands, rubbed his eyes and let his glasses fall to the table. “God help me,” he breathed it out on a whisper.
9
“Wrong town, wrong house, wrong neighbors, wrong daughter.” He snatched up the newspaper and read it again.
“What are you talking about?” Risé handed him his glasses. “You’re white as a sheet and you’re scaring me.”
“I was supposed to go to Crandle, for Cartier. They are arriving tomorrow. It was their house I was supposed to decorate. I’m in big trouble.” He pulled the notice from the bulletin board from his pocket.
“How could you make a mistake like that? Are you sure?”
He handed her the rain smeared paper. How could he be so stupid?
She looked the paper over. “I see how you could have mistaken Crandle for Candle, but I’ve seen Cartier’s home. It’s nothing like this one.”
“It was all too similar. Crandle, Candle, Cartier, Carter, Frond, Front, Francis, Fin, empty undecorated house, sick neighbor with a temperamental chef daughter. You and your Dad said that Mr. Carter was a character, a jokester. Plus the picture of them in front of the Eiffel Tower.”
“Fin took her just after her diagnosis. It was on her bucket list. This is all too weird. You OK?”
“No. I’m freaking out. I’ve got to get to Crandle and see what I can do. I’ll have to work all night. Mr. Cartier will never believe this.” He headed for the door.
“Wait, I’m coming with you.” She followed him to the front door.
“But your friends are arriving tomorrow. They’ll want to see you, and I know you want to see them.”
“Are they? Probably not since we haven’t heard from them. It’s the Cartiers’ arriving at their house tomorrow.” She pulled her cell phone from her jeans pocket.
“Tell me about it.” He rushed to his car.
Risé got in, talking to her Dad.
“Dad you won’t believe this. It’s a huge mix-up, and I’ll explain later. It was Francis Cartier’s house in Crandle that Evan was supposed to decorate. I’m going to help him. Is that OK? I know it’s Christmas Eve.” She nodded as she listened to his response. “OK, thanks, Dad.”
“He’s meeting us there,” she said, dropping her phone into her purse.
“Why?”
“So he can help,” she said. “And no macho man declining his help this time.”
“But Cartier specifically said, wait, it’s his neighbor who has a heart condition, not George. Whew, this is confusing. But you said something about a diagnosis,” Evan said, trying to stay within the speed limit.
“He has diabetes, and he’s strong enough to hold a ladder. You thought? Oh, man.” She threw her head back, laughing.
“I’ll laugh about it later. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it done before tomorrow. But I’ll give it my bes
t shot.”
An hour later they pulled up in front of 500 N. Frond Street. The modern mansion was large, but not massive. At least it was just one story, sprawling, but better than multiple levels.
Evan had no idea how long it would take him to get it done. He turned off the car, shoved the keys in his pocket and got out. “Key’s under the flowerpot.” Just as Cartier said, Evan had to dig a little under the pot to find the key. He let them in. “Basement door in the kitchen.”
They went down and pulled up box after box of lights, and a ladder.
“I’ll get started on the lights. If there are any lawn displays or anything, it will have to wait.” Evan started carrying boxes outside.
“I’ll hold the ladder,” Risé said. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about my similarity to a temperamental chef.” She laughed.
Evan heaved a sigh of relief that there were already hooks for lights on the sleek lines of the house. He found the spot where it would all plug in and then got to work.
“Did you see that giant Christmas tree in the foyer? It’s not decorated,” Risé commented as Evan came down the ladder for another string of lights.
“I did, and did you see the Steinway Grand next to it? I can’t wait to play it.”
“Not tonight, too much to do.”
“One thing at a time. Listen, I don’t expect you to stay here all night, but I do appreciate your help.” Evan thought his heart would burst from gratitude.
She blushed and lights twinkled in her eyes.
So beautiful. His heart eased into a comfortable warmth…what was this feeling? He was afraid to name it.
“No problem.” She smiled.
If she were his, he’d spend all his time trying to get that smile to appear and reappear. He’d never get any practicing done.
Just as the sun disappeared behind the East Texas pines, four cars pulled up. “Oh no, that’s not Cartier here already. Please, no.” Evan scrambled down the ladder.
“It’s Dad, and it looks as if he brought friends.” Risé waved at the entourage.
