by Jody Day
“Why, yes, I would. But I don’t think she would leave her father on Christmas Day. They already gave up their Christmas Eve to help me with your house.”
“Then bring him too, if you like. Seven sharp.”
“Thank you, I will. Thanks so much.” Evan stood and took a step toward the door.
“Evan, that men’s shop is here in Crandle.”
“Yes, sir.”
They both laughed.
A reason for everything.
11
“I hope you don’t feel cheated out of a traditional Christmas dinner, Dad,” Rise said, as the last of the dishes went into the dishwasher.
“Not at all. Turkey, salad, and faux mashed potatoes. I’m stuffed. I have to say, though, that if I had known that was mashed cauliflower, I might have turned up my nose. Such trickery!” Dad whooshed the table cloth from the table and tossed it into the air. He caught it and bowed.
“I allowed the piece of pumpkin roll, but be sure and test your sugar levels.” She decided to keep mum about the recipe. Completely sugar and gluten free. She’d had a piece herself, and thought it not half-bad.
“It was delish. I noticed you put it in the freezer after I had one piece. I’d planned to take a nap and then have another itsy bitsy piece with coffee.” He demonstrated a tiny piece of cake with his fingers.
“Let’s see what it does to your numbers.”
The doorbell rang.
“Who could that be on Christmas Day?” Her dad left the kitchen to answer the door. A moment later he called her from the family room.
She walked into the room.
Evan stood by the front door in a sharp black tuxedo with a red bow tie.
“Whoa, you look amazing. What’s going on?” What did she look like after cooking, eating, and then cleaning the kitchen? She tried to smooth her hair.
“I’ve been asked to extend an invitation to you both for the fundraiser at the Cartiers’. He’s asked me to play and fixed me up with this tux. It starts in an hour and a half. Just enough time for the two of you to dude up and come along.” He grinned.
“Are you kidding? It’s an hour drive. That gives me thirty minutes to get ready. I don’t know.” She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He looked handsome, yes, but something glowed in his eyes. What had changed?
“You can,” Dad said. “I’ll wear the suit I wore to church yesterday, and you can wear that red dress you wore to the Fireman’s Ball with um…that red dress.”
“You mean with Jeff. No, I don’t think so. But I do have a dress I could wear.” She’d have to wear her hair up. It was a mass of frizz from the hot kitchen.
“Please.” Evan’s smile was open, joyful, free from whatever had made him seem sad before. Maybe Pastor Langford made some headway with him.
“Sure, I’ll be ready.” She dashed into her room and pulled the green, blingy sequined dress she’d bought for the fall dance at school. Jeff hadn’t been able to go, and so there’d be no memory of him attached to the outfit. She slipped it on, slid her feet into a pair of black heels, and then went through her mother’s jewelry box. She pinned Mom’s old-fashioned, bejeweled Christmas tree on her right shoulder, touched up her makeup, and swept her hair up, secured with a hair clip that was adorned with sparkling poinsettias. “It’s the best I can do,” she said aloud.
The weather was chilly, so Mom’s cream silk shawl was draped over her shoulders. They’d only be outside getting into the car. Would it hurt Dad to see her in Mother’s things? She stepped out of her room into the hallway. She heard the men talking, and couldn’t resist the urge to eavesdrop.
“She’s just been through a terrible break-up. I hope you’re not planning to make a play for her right away. Because I can see that you like her,” Dad said. He sounded severe.
Evan cleared his throat. How could Dad embarrass him that way?
“I’m not sure the feeling is mutual, sir, but um, what would you say is a reasonable amount of time before, well, stating my case?”
Risé covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Her heart jolted.
“Just take it slow. She needs a friend. The best relationships evolve out of true friendship. She’ll want you to be on the same page about faith, too. Just give her time. That’s all I ask,” Dad said.
Risé dabbed at her makeup. She didn’t want to redo it, despite the tears that stung her eyes. Dad’s love for her overwhelmed her sometimes.
“I’m beginning to understand,” Evan said.
“Beginning to understand what?”
“About faith.”
Risé breathed a silent prayer. She stepped into the family room and blushed at their open mouths.
“Risé, you look gorgeous, just like your mother,” Dad said. He snapped his fingers and held out his hand to her.
Evan just gawked. He looked like he wanted to say something.
The doorbell rang again.
Dad answered.
“Hello, I’m James, Mr. Cartier’s driver. He sent me to collect Mr. Edwards and his guests.”
“Thank you,” Evan said. “We’re coming.”
A black limousine was parked in the middle of the street, a large pine wreath on the front grill.
“Wow,” Risé whispered. “I guess Mr. Cartier was pleased with the decorating.”
“I told him everything. He was great about it,” Evan said.
James opened the door, and Risé got into the limousine.
Dad climbed in and sat next to her.
Evan sat across. He looked to be searching for words.
Dad came to his rescue. “So, tell us about Cartier.”
Evan shook out of his dazed stupor and regaled them with the story about Mr. Cartier’s sibling relationship with his piano teacher and that the fundraiser was an endowment in her name.
“It can only be God working His purpose. I can’t get my mind wrapped around it all.” Dad shook his head.
“Mr. Cartier says there’s a reason for everything,” Evan looked intently at Risé.
Risé broke the eye contact. She crossed her legs and pretended to examine the little cabinets inside the limousine. Jeff had not been the right man for her. The knowledge had staggered her, but at the same time, her heart was set free. Free to consider…Evan.
Risé turned the idea over in her mind, feeling a certain comfort she’d never experienced with Jeff. But still, she’d take it to God first. And there was still that matter of Evan not being a believer.
“One step at a time,” Dad said.
“Yes, sir.” Evan pulled on the tie at his neck.
Good idea, Dad.
12
In all his years of performing at every kind of event imaginable, Evan had never been delivered in a limousine. The experience was nothing, however, compared to an uninterrupted hour of beholding the most beautiful girl in the world. He wanted nothing more than to get her alone and tell her about what happened when he’d played the Cartier’s piano that afternoon. Somewhere in that unexplainable moment, he’d said “yes” to the Savior. Pastor Langford had told him what he needed to do. God had given Evan a glimpse of his purpose on this earth. Would Risé fit into that somehow?
He’d dedicated his playing to God, and he’d just have to see what path that would take. Mr. Larkin’s admonition‒one step at a time‒seemed to apply to both Risé and Evan’s career. Maybe she didn’t feel the same. Just knowing her had enriched his life. Could there be more someday?
The limousine arrived at the front door of the mansion. James got out and opened the door for them. Dad offered Risé his arm, and Evan went up the steps behind them. He heard the clicking of heels running up the steps behind him.
“Darling, I didn’t know you ran in these circles.” His mom grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. She planted a big kiss on his cheek.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tried to wipe off the lipstick.
She wore a short black skirt, heels at least five in
ches high, and a red blouse with more frills than a Mozart piece. Her hair was poofed up and festooned with a large silk poinsettia.
“We drove up the street just in time to see you all get into a limo. We just wanted to say Merry Christmas.” She slipped her hand in the crook of his arm. “Might as well join you.”
“But,” he began.
Bud was huffing and puffing up the stairs. He clapped Evan on the back. “Fancy,” he said between breaths.
Mr. Cartier came out to meet them. He took Risé’s hand and kissed it. “Ah, the dif‒um, daughter from across the street.”
Risé raised her eyebrow at Evan. “Risé Larkin, and this is my father, George Larkin. Thank you very much for the invitation.”
“Not at all. I owe you a debt of gratitude for your help. What a mix-up, eh?” He shook George’s hand. “And who might this be, Evan?”
Nothing he could do about it now. “This is my mother, Patty Ed‒I mean, Lafayette, and this is Boudreaux Lafayette, her husband.”
His mom held out her hand, top up and fingers dangling. Mr. Cartier obliged by kissing it. “Pleased, I’m sure,” his mother said, with airs.
Good grief.
“Mr. Lafayette, the oil baron, ah, yes. Your reputation precedes you. Very glad to have you here. Perhaps you have an interest in the arts?” Mr. Cartier asked.
“I’m not sure,” Bud said.
“Well, perhaps after you hear Evan play tonight, you’ll know for certain.” Mr. Cartier then greeted other guests coming up the steps.
“It’s just like a movie,” Risé whispered as a maid passed by with champagne glasses balanced on top.
“Kind of like a dream,” Evan responded.
“Check out that buffet table.” George headed that way.
“Oh, no, I better stay with him.” Risé followed her father to the sumptuous spread.
Bud grabbed Evan by the arm. “Can we have a word?”
“OK. I have to play in a few minutes.” He didn’t want to hear about the oil company job again.
They found a spot in a corner, away from the rest of the guests.
“I just want you to know that what Patty and I have is real. I know all about her past, how she was treated and everything. I love her, and I promise I’ll never do anything to hurt her. I’m not asking that you be my friend, and I’m not trying to be a dad, but for her sake, I think we should get along.” Bud’s voice had an air of confrontation. He put his hands on his hips his gaze boring into Evan’s.
None of Mom’s boyfriends had ever given him a speech like this before. In fact, he’d been pretty invisible to them.
Bud made an exasperated sigh. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. But would you give me a chance, and be a part of our family, all three of us?”
“Bud, I appreciate it, I just don’t know.”
“Listen, she gave up her apartment, and I’ve had your piano moved to our house in Houston. You’re welcome anytime,” Bud started to walk away.
“Wait. She gave up her apartment?” No backup plan?
His mother laughed. He turned to find her surrounded by a group of women, hanging on every word. No doubt she was embellishing on their cruise catastrophe.
“Well, if you can rein that in,” Evan said, nodding his head toward his mother, “then welcome to the family.”
Bud grabbed his hand and shook it until Evan rattled all over.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, a special treat for you. I hired a young music student from ETU to prepare the house for the holidays. I had no idea he was a musical genius. For your listening pleasure, I present Mr. Evan Edwards playing Chopin’s Nocturne in E minor, opus 72.”
The audience applauded.
Evan sat on the bench. He prayed silently. OK, God, I’m new at giving You control of things, but I’m asking You to take charge of this with that ‘purpose’ thing. Evan went into the zone in the very first phrase. Instead of something calling to him that he didn’t know how to answer, he sensed a mission with each measure. The music came from somewhere else.
A pin drop could be heard after the last chord. Hadn’t they liked it?
A few silent seconds later, Mr. Cartier stepped over to the piano and addressed the audience. “Astonishing, yes?”
Applause erupted.
Evan stood to acknowledge his audience.
Mom had tears rolling down her cheeks. Bud’s mouth was gaping.
The admiration on Risé’s face showed that ‘one step at a time’ would be difficult. She was part of this new picture, somehow.
When the applause finally decreased, Mr. Cartier put his hand on Evan’s shoulder. “As you know, this is a fundraiser for the new Dominique Miller Arts Endowment, in honor of my sister. The board I’ve organized plans to award a scholarship, as well as fund music programs in rural communities. We’d been discussing the forming of an audition for the scholarship. However, after making a few calls today, everyone is in agreement. How apropos to award the first scholarship to one of Dominique’s own students, Mr. Evan Edwards. The Endowment is an open door to any graduate program in the world.”
Applause erupted again.
Evan tried to hold back tears, but a few escaped. Mrs. Miller would be proud. He just wished she were here to see what she’d done for him. He wished his handkerchief wasn’t covered with lipstick, but a quick swipe with cuff took care of the moisture on his cheeks.
Everyone offered their congratulations, praised his playing, and recommended schools.
As they began to mingle again, Risé came up by his side.
“Wow. I guess you’ll be leaving us then,” she said.
“I suppose. I don’t know when, or where to, but it’s a dream come true. Things are falling into place. There’s a fly in the ointment now, though.” He hoped God wouldn’t think it ungrateful of him.
“Oh?” She looked down.
“Yes, you. Risé...I…
Mr. Cartier interrupted. “Please, Evan, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
Evan looked over his shoulder as Mr. Cartier pulled him away.
Risé was dabbing at tears.
What on earth did that mean?
13
Risé was quiet on the limousine ride home.
“God does work in mysterious ways. You went to the wrong house, but God blessed you anyway,” George said.
Evan glanced at Risé. “Yes he certainly did.”
“Still, I’m glad we got to meet you. I guess God knew we’d need a piano player for the kids,” George continued.
Evan nodded. Why was Risé so quiet?
The limo turned down Front Street. “And, it looks like God knew the Carters’ house would need brightening up,” George exclaimed.
“How so?” Risé asked.
“Look, their car is in the driveway and the lights are on.”
Risé gasped. “They’re home!”
As soon as James stopped the limo, George and Risé rushed to the Carters’ front door.
“Thank you, James. But could you wait a moment? I may need to catch a ride back to Crandle.” Evan wanted to meet the people whose home he’d basically broken into.
“Certainly, sir. Take as long as you need.” James rolled up the window and took his cell phone from his pocket.
Evan walked in the open front door.
Risé was explaining why the house had been decked out with Christmas lights and how the tree came to be decorated.
“Too weird, eh?” George said, standing next to the man who could only be Fin Carter. “And this is the man who made the wonderful mistake.”
Fin gave him a hug. “Man, it’s purely providential. I hadn’t thought of getting this done in time for our arrival. I knew the day would nearly be over by the time we got home.”
Mrs. Carter, in her wheelchair, was parked right by the tree. The woman was frail, and looked as if she’d been through a lot. Yet there was a flush to her cheeks, and something akin to joy sparkled in her eyes.
Risé
knelt on the floor put her head in Carol’s lap.
“It’s lovely, really, dear. Evan, was it?” She asked as she looked at him.
“Yes, ma’am,” Evan said. He was compelled to give her a hug. “I hope it’s OK that I slept here a few days.”
“Yes,” Carol said. “I’m glad you were here to do this. Even if it was the wrong house.” She smiled. “The pretty decorations can’t outshine our happiness tonight, though. We have a lot to celebrate.”
Risés looked up with wide eyes. “Oh?”
“Yes, Carol is in remission. It’s nothing short of a miracle.” Fin beamed.
Rise wrapped her arms around her dear friend and wept.
George grabbed Fin into a bear hug. “Amazing. That’s the best Christmas news ever!” He leaned down and kissed Carol on the cheek. He didn’t try to stop a tear from escaping his shining eyes.
“She had a rough time with the last round of chemo. It really weakened her. But this little lady is tough as nails, and our heavenly Father heard our prayers.”
“All our prayers,” Rise said, holding Carol’s hands in hers.
“I’m just so glad to be home, and to find everything ready for Christmas and also surrounded by my dear friends, well, it’s just too wonderful.” Carol looked around the room, her smile as bright as the star on top of the tree.
“I hope you’ll consider staying on until you have to return to school,” Carol said, reaching for Evan’s hand and giving Risé a funny smile.
Risé looked at Evan with imploring eyes.
“Why yes, thank you, ma’am. Just let me wave on the driver.” He walked outside and told James to go on, that he’d call Mr. Cartier after the holidays.
As he returned to the family room, Fin disappeared into the kitchen and then came back holding up a fake sprig of mistletoe. “You forgot the most important Christmas decoration.”
Carol clapped her hands.
Fin held the sprig over his wife’s head and kissed her, long and tender.
