by Beth Ziarnik
“When he arrives, I’ll bring him to you. Now, you rest, and I’ll stay right here with you.”
Her father squeezed her hand again, then closed his eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep. She watched him for a while, savoring his words. How good to know his side of the story, but she still didn’t understand. Her mother leaving her father without a word of explanation didn’t make sense. Had she feared a greater threat than either of them knew?
Later, when she was sure her father slept soundly, she went to a window and pulled aside one curtain panel. Cold radiated from the panes as she looked into the starlit night of Christmas Eve. Still no Clay.
Not a word from him all day.
Clay paced his room and then shut down his phone. Again, his call failed. Just as it had all day. He checked the face of the phone for the time. Jill had to be wondering where he was, waiting for him to arrive or at least call.
He sucked in a deep, frustrated breath. He’d obviously come to Haiti for nothing. No contract. Therefore, no ring. And the way things were going, no way home for Christmas.
Manny couldn’t fly him back without Francesca’s approval, and his own desperate attempts to purchase a commercial airline ticket or trade with a ticketed passenger had failed. He couldn’t book a seat until the day after Christmas—and then only on stand-by.
He was trapped.
He stepped out onto the second-floor porch and looked into the starlit night. His heart ached. All hope of finding some way back to Jill had vanished.
Not one to give up, he bowed his head.
Lord, you know the way. Please show me.
Chapter Eleven
At the gleaming dinner table in Francesca’s salon, Clay and his hostess had just finished a candlelight dinner. He could barely keep his mind focused. The huge Christmas tree with its tiny multi-colored lights and abundance of decorations stood to one side of a fireplace alive with dancing flames. They all reminded him of his promise to Jill … his broken promise.
Francesca tipped her head and watched him intently, a slight smile teasing her lips. “Did you enjoy the Christmas reveillon dinner?”
“Very good.” His voice sounded flat as he scanned the remains of a tasty seafood soup, black mushroom rice, a beet-and-potato salad, beef tassot and pork griot. In spite of the sumptuous feast of Haitian dishes set before him, missing Jill overrode any enjoyment he might have had. Even the pineapple upside-down cake—one of his favorites—failed to tempt him.
“I thought you would prefer a quiet evening rather than attending la Messed de Minuit—the midnight Mass—and my usual houseful of guests feasting and celebrating until dawn.”
The truth was, he missed a church service on Christmas Eve, something he had looked forward to with Jill at his side. The scent of candles and pine decorations. A live pageant of the first Christmas with angels and shepherds and magi gathering before Joseph and Mary and the Christ child in the manger. The congregation singing “Silent Night,” while each held a lighted candle in the darkened sanctuary. He missed it all.
Francesca stood. “Shall we move to the garden?”
He rose as well. He would give his quest one last try. “About the contract …”
She waved an elegant hand as she stepped from the house. “Come now. Who immerses themselves in the things of business on Christmas Eve?”
Every muscle in his body constricted as he followed her.
“Ah, you are annoyed,” she chided. “Please do not frown. I am sure your Jill will understand. The things of business sometimes become inconvenient.”
“I made a promise.” Was the woman dense?
Her eyes narrowed in displeasure. Then in a flash, her careful serenity returned, this time a shade cooler. “Yes, of course, and I see that promises are important to you. So admirable. Please forgive me. I have failed to be the gracious hostess. Perhaps you are right. The negotiations of this contract must come to an end, and you must get back to your Jill.”
“Then we can discuss the matter?”
“I believe we discussed all that is necessary during dinner.” She moved toward the garden, a trail of floating chiffon following her. “I will look the contract over one last time before I retire, and you will have it in the morning. But now, let us enjoy this beautiful evening.”
They stepped into a garden alive with tiny white and colored lights wound around tree trunks and the colonnades supporting her porches. He worked to release his muscles. All she had given him was another excuse to leave him hanging.
But also … a glimmer of hope.
The morning sunshine of Christmas Day flooded Francesca’s salon. With no children about, Papa Nwel had left no gifts under the tree. All was eerily quiet while Clay waited for his hostess and client to read through the contract a last time. Her face betrayed no decision.
The muscles in his shoulders and neck knotted as they had the night before. At last, she poised her pen above the papers. He held his breath.
But then she shook her head and set both pen and contract aside on the table between them. “I am sorry, but I am still not satisfied with a few points.”
Not satisfied? He’d bent to her every request, more than he had with any other client. If he allowed any more adjustments, he’d barely make a profit, and she knew it. This whole trip was a waste. He rose to his feet. “I’m sorry too, because I’ve made all the concessions I can. If this contract is not to your liking, we can’t do business. I’ll gather my things while you tell Manny to get the plane ready.”
Francesca flinched. Her mouth dropped open.
“You did promise to return me in time for Christmas, didn’t you?” He stalked from the room with no idea what he could do to save his business now. But God willing, he’d find some other way to rescue Merrick Restoration and Construction Inc. And a way to keep from looking like a fool before Jill’s father.
“Merry Christmas, Dad.” Jill approached him, delighted to see him sitting in a high-backed chair, a legal folder resting in his lap.
He removed his reading glasses. “Thank you, but shouldn’t you be on your way to church with the rest of the family?”
She reached for another chair and pulled it near his. “I thought you might want some company, and maybe—”
“What is this all about?” He eyed the book she held in her hands.
“Mother always read the Christmas story from our family Bible on Christmas morning. I was hoping maybe you and I …”
A slight frown flitted across his face. He obviously preferred they didn’t, but then he nodded. “Yes. Of course.”
“Shall I read it, or would you prefer to?”
Waving a hand toward her, he sighed. “It would be best if you did.”
Jill turned to the last part of chapter one in the book of Matthew and began reading. “This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about.” After recounting the part God played in bringing about this miraculous birth, the story moved to chapter two in the book of Luke. “In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken …” She loved the way the story explained why Joseph and Mary were in Bethlehem when Jesus was born, and the amazing role the angels and shepherds played at the time of His birth. Finally, she returned to the book of Matthew to add in the part the magi played and how God kept them all safe from wicked King Herod’s plot to kill them.
She never tired of this beautiful true story of God’s love. But her father’s eyes were closed the entire time she read. They were closed now as his head rested against the back of the chair. Had he heard any of the story?
“Dad?”
“I’m just resting my eyes. I heard every word.” Her father opened his eyes. “It’s not just another story to you, is it? It has deep meaning.”
“Oh, yes. Without Christmas, there would be no Savior to die on the cross for our sins. Without a Savior, we would be hopelessly lost for all eternity. No hope. No future in heaven with the Lord and our loved ones.” Was she making any sense to him?
“I do know something about all that. I did go to Sunday school as a child.”
“Did you ever ask God to forgive your wrongdoing and turn your life over to him?”
“No.”
“Would you like to do that now?” O Lord, please.
“That’s nice for you, Jill, but it’s not for me.”
“Not for you?” Her shoulders dropped. “May I ask why?”
“I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind.”
She did mind. She desperately wanted to know her father would go to heaven when he died. Desperately wanted him to ask Jesus to be his Lord and Savior, but now was obviously not the time. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, Daughter.” He covered his eyes with one hand and turned away.
“Merry Christmas, Jill.”
Glad to hear Nona’s voice on this sad and lonely afternoon, Jill held the phone to her ear as she peered out her bedroom window at the clear blue sky of Christmas Day. “I was hoping to catch you before everyone arrived. It’s so quiet here I wish I were with you. How is Button?”
A cuddle from the kitten she and Clay had acquired would go a long way right now.
“The little rascal found his present under the tree last night. He’s been busy batting it around and pouncing on it ever since he pulled the wrapping off.” Nona’s pause lingered. “Why is everything so quiet at your dad’s house?”
“Alice thought it best for him to rest so he would have the strength to join us for dinner and opening gifts tonight. A little while ago, Dora, Kat, and Lillie saw him for a few moments and then left for the hospital to deliver gifts in the children’s wing.
“Why didn’t you go with them?”
“It’s their annual Christmas tradition, and Dora made it clear I was not welcome.”
“I’m sorry, Jill.”
She shrugged it off and tried to sound positive. “It’s given me time to call Uncle Drew and my cousin Tia.”
“How are they?’
“They’re doing well, considering. They’re on their way to visit Aunt Lenore at the nursing home. She’s not doing much better. After that, they’ll join Clay’s grandma for Christmas dinner. You remember Amelia, don’t you?”
“Delightful woman.”
Jill was sure Amelia’s dinner would be all anyone could wish for. “It’s snowing again in Northern Michigan, so I’m praying for their safety. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
“And Clay?”
“Haven’t heard a word. I don’t know whether he’s on his way here or stuck in Haiti.” Her heart sank a little further.
“You know him. No doubt he’s doing his best and will have a good explanation when he arrives. Be patient.”
As much as her heart hurt, she knew Nona was right.
Evening shadows deepened beyond the music room windows as Jill placed her gifts beneath the tree, tucking them toward the back. She held the last one a moment longer and traced Clay’s name on its tag.
She nibbled her lower lip. When her father had asked about him throughout the day, she could offer no reason for his absence, no reason for his lack of communication. All she had was an aching heart and niggling worry. “He’ll come,” she would say, hoping against hope she was right.
The doorbell rang, pulling her out of her musings. Clay. It had to be. No other guests were expected tonight. Jill hurried to the music room’s doorway, her heart pummeling her ribs while Hannah scurried to the front door.
The sound of boots stomping in the protected entryway was no doubt to remove the snow that was still coming down beyond the porch. She held her breath. But wait. His gift. She still held it in her hands. She quickly placed it under the tree with the others.
“You look exquisite.”
The voice behind her was not Clay’s. She stood slowly, looking down at the soft folds of her Christmas dress, bought especially to please him. How carefully she had dressed for this evening, knowing he loved this shade of red on her.
When she lifted her chin, Brian smiled down at her. He looked splendid in his black tux, slim and fit. He had a gift for knowing how to present himself for each occasion. But he was not Clay, and without Clay, this evening would never be all she had dreamed.
“Why so sad?” Brian’s eyes sought hers.
“I thought …” The rest of her words died away.
“You thought I was Clay. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
She appreciated his quiet sincerity and managed the briefest of smiles. “He’ll come.” If he can, that is. Lord, why hasn’t he called? He’s not sick, is he? His plane didn’t crash, did it?
As peace settled over her, the sudden panic melted away. Somehow, she knew the answer was no. If either of those things had happened, she would have heard by now.
Brian wrinkled his brow. “I hope you don’t mind my saying, but I’d be a lot less patient if I were waiting this long for someone.”
Jill couldn’t help but snicker. “Since when was any man ever patient? Least of all you.”
“That’s better,” he said. “No one should frown on Christmas. So, where is everyone?”
“Still getting ready, I guess. They should be down any minute. It’s almost time for dinner.” She moved away and turned toward the tree. “I didn’t know you were joining us.”
“John invited me.”
Jill blinked. Why hadn’t her dad told her?
“I hope that’s not a problem.” He closed the space between them. “It was only a sympathetic gesture. He found out I didn’t have any plans.”
A scuffling of shoes and murmuring of voices in the reception hall made it clear her father had come down in the elevator. Most likely, Alice and other family members were assisting him into the dining room.
Glowing with excitement, Lillie dashed into the music room. “Jill, Father is here. You and Brian should come now. Hannah is ready to serve our Christmas dinner.”
When Brian put a hand lightly on the small of her back, Jill flinched. Clay should be the one guiding her into the dining room. But it wasn’t Brian’s fault Clay had not arrived. Forcing a pleasant expression, she allowed him to escort her to her place at the table.
Kathryn sat across from her, shooting suspicious glances her way every time Jill looked up from her plate. From one end of the table, Dora made a concerted effort to avoid eye contact with Jill as she and the others conversed quietly. Even Lillie became somewhat subdued, addressing hardly a word to her and glancing nervously at her grandmother. If not for the smiles her father kept sending her way, the entire feast would have seemed interminable.
What a relief when they finished and retired to the music room. From a shadowed corner where she could stay out of the way, Jill observed the family seating themselves around the room, their attention on Kathryn as she uncovered the keyboard of the baby grand piano. Dora removed a violin from its case and placed the instrument under her chin, testing the strings before nodding to her older daughter. The two started out with “We Need a Little Christmas.”
Jill glanced at her father, who looked across the room at her, his eyes warm but tired. Was this all too much for him? Before she could look away, he patted the open space beside him on the couch and beckoned to her. Did she dare sit beside him? Would Kathryn object? This might be her only Christmas with her father. As she joined him, Lillie glanced at her with bright-eyed joy from his other side.
With her back to them, Kathryn didn’t seem to notice. As she began the introduction to “Winter Wonderland,” she called to Brian. “Come and sing this next number for us.”
Though he appeared reluctant, he obliged. In the quiet of the room with candlelight flickering on the fireplace mantle, lights of the Christmas tree twinkling at the front window, and a small steady light above the piano sheet music, he crooned the romantic holiday sentiments.
Jill looked away, longing all the more for Clay.
When the last notes died away, Kathryn urged Brian to sing another. “One more before we open the gifts.�
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“Only if Jill makes it a duet,” he insisted.
Kathryn shot him a disapproving glare as he extended his hand, urging Jill to stand with him at the piano. “What would you like to sing?” he asked, drawing her close beside him.
The undisguised tenderness in his eyes startled her, and she stepped away. For heaven’s sake, nothing romantic. “How about ‘Silent Night’?”
He didn’t appear surprised. Nor did he tease her. He simply nodded his head and glanced at Kathryn, who began the introduction.
At first, Jill wondered if the words might catch in her throat. Christmas without Clay hurt more than she could express. But then she recalled how this night was all about Christ’s birth and the promise of God’s love coming to mankind’s rescue. She sang the beautiful words from her heart while Brian sang the harmony. When the last notes died out, a hush hovered in the room.
Her father’s eyes evidenced moisture. “Beautiful, Jill, Brian. Both of you.”
Dora slipped her violin into its case and set it aside. “Yes. Now let’s open the gifts.”
Kathryn dropped the cover over the piano’s keyboard, and Jill returned to her chair in the far corner of the room.
“Lillie, help your sister,” Dora said as she chose a chair near the Christmas tree.
One by one, Kathryn selected presents from beneath the tree, announced the recipient, and handed them to her sister. With childlike excitement, Lillie delivered each gift. Her eyes glowed as she placed a potted baby cactus in full bloom in Jill’s hands. “She insisted she must belong to you, Jill. You will take good care of her, won’t you?”
Jill hugged her sister, promising herself she would not cry, even for joy. She would treasure the lovely gift always. When she had to leave, it would remind her she had a sister who loved her.
Apparently, Brian had left gifts under the tree, because Lillie delivered one to her father and her grandmother. She then returned to Jill with a box bearing Brian’s name as the giver. When she shot him a look to let him know he shouldn’t have, he shrugged.
She opened it, a bit apprehensive about what the expensive wrappings might conceal. When she uncovered a box of her favorite chocolates from an exclusive store, she was greatly relieved he had refrained from anything too personal. “Thank you.”