Jocie didn’t know where to start. So many good things to write about. So many Christmas blessings. She put the point of her pen on the paper and started forming letters. Her hand could hardly keep up with the words spilling out of her head.
This is the best Christmas ever. I know. I’ve been saying that every year. At least the last few years and I did think they were best. Well, not the Christmas after Mama Mae died. That one was the worst. The one when I was eight. Lots worse than the one after DeeDee left with Tabitha. Although that one wasn’t so good either.
I missed Mama Mae. Mama Mae was Christmas. I guess when Mama Mae died, so did Santa Claus. At least for me. But another Christmas came around and another and now I’m old enough to know Christmas is more than what’s under the tree. More even than who’s sitting around the tree with you. Although, boy, am I glad this year for who’s sitting around the tree with me. Especially Wes. After that tree fell on him back in July this could have been another worst Christmas ever like the one after Mama Mae died. A person just can’t keep from missing people they’ve lost at Christmas.
I said a prayer for Miss Sally today when I woke up since she lost Mr. Harvey last September. But she told us at Sunday school last week not to worry about her or be too sad about Mr. Harvey. That he would surely have the best Christmas a Christian could ever have up in heaven this year. I wonder do the angels sing up in heaven every year the way they did on that first Christmas when Jesus was born? Of course, Miss Sally won’t really have time to be too sad since she’ll be having Christmas with the Hearndons. The twins and Cassidy will keep her more than busy. Eli and Elise are sweet as they can be, but they’d try to climb the Christmas tree if you didn’t watch them.
But back to my best Christmas ever. Last year there was just me and Dad and Aunt Love and Wes. That was good, but we’ve almost doubled our number this year with Tabitha here and baby Stephen Lee and Leigh.
I’m so happy I’m about to burst. Of course I’m not as happy as Leigh.
Jocie stopped writing for a minute and looked up at Leigh. She was laughing at something Wes was telling her. If a girl had to have a stepmother it was good to have one who laughed. The wicked stepmothers in the fairy tales never laughed except for that evil witches’ laugh. But then again, no way could “wicked” and “Leigh” go together.
Dad popped the question. To Elvis music. To “Love Me Tender.” Can you believe that? Me either. I guess, as Tabitha keeps telling me, there’s more to a dad than meets the eye.
They’ve already set a date. The first Saturday in June. Leigh wants to be a June bride. She followed me into the kitchen awhile ago when I went to get Wes some coffee to make sure I wasn’t upset. I don’t know why everybody thinks I’m going to be upset about Dad being in love. I’m happy Dad’s in love. I know how much love Dad’s got in his heart and there’s plenty to go around. I mean someday when I’m all grown up I might meet somebody and fall in love.
I can’t imagine that happening right now. Boys are mostly just yucky. Paulette says I’m weird, that she loves boys in general and Ronnie Martin in particular. She says they’re going to get married when she graduates in four years. But who knows with Paulette? Of course Ronnie has lasted longer than most of her boyfriends. Three months now. And Ronnie’s not quite as obnoxious as he used to be. We even speak to each other sometimes when Paulette’s not around.
But anyway if I ever do meet a boy who makes me go gaga the way Paulette is over Ronnie, I won’t stop loving my father. I could never stop loving Dad. Ever.
But back to Leigh and the wedding. She wants me to help her with it. With making plans and stuff. Help her decide on the best dress. The colors the bridesmaids should wear since I’ll be one. That kind of thing. I guess nobody’s going to worry too much about Dad having been married before. I mean people say you shouldn’t have fancy church weddings when you’ve been married before, but Leigh’s never been married before. And it’s her wedding too. Besides we’ve been breaking all the usual rules lately anyway. What with Tabitha not married and her keeping Stephen Lee without even thinking about letting some couple adopt him.
That makes my heart hurt just thinking about it. Not that it isn’t great when people do adopt babies. It is. But we love Stephen Lee too much now. Even if the whole town turns against us, it won’t matter. Stephen Lee is ours. Besides, a few extra requests for gift subscriptions for the Banner came in. Maybe people are going to quit blackballing us and start renewing their subscriptions again. After all, if they want to know what’s going on in Hollyhill, we’re the only game in town. Dad’s been printing extra pictures of the kids at the elementary school. And then he put in a whole section of kids talking to Santa Claus at the parade a few weeks ago. We sold all our extra issues that week. Zella says things will come around, and whatever else you say about Zella, she usually knows how many papers we’re going to sell.
Leigh called her and told her about being engaged this morning before she came to our house. Got her up, but Leigh didn’t want Zella to get mad because Wes found out before she did. I’ll bet Zella’s about worn out her fingers calling people to tell them how well her matchmaking worked. We won’t even have to put an announcement in the paper. Maybe somebody has already told a certain Mr. Somebody who I’m not saying his name until 1965. I hope so. Him and his funeral home red roses. I don’t care if they were pretty. Leigh says she took them and dropped them off at the nursing home this morning. I hope she left the card on them so all the old ladies there will think they have a secret admirer. Maybe I can figure out a way to tell them who so he’ll have to run every time he sees a wheelchair coming.
“Hey, what are you writing about, Jo?” Wes limped over to sit beside her. “One minute you’re frowning. The next you’re grinning ear to ear. If it’s that entertaining, maybe we should put it in the Banner to up circulation.”
Jocie looked up at Wes and laughed. “It might be worth a shot. One week I can do a column called Main Street Gossip and the next you can do your Hollyhill Book of the Strange.”
“The first person I’d have to write about would be me,” Wes said. “I’m about as strange as they come.”
“And I’d have to write about Dad and Leigh, and you shouldn’t gossip about your family.”
“And everybody in Hollyhill is family except me,” Wes said.
“That’s not true. You’re family now. My granddaddy, remember.”
“No way in Jupiter I could forget that. And looks like your family—”
Jocie interrupted him by clearing her throat and leaning over to stare right into his face. “Excuse me. Whose family?”
“Oh yeah, I mean our family.” Wes grinned. “Our family is growing.”
“Almost double from last Christmas,” Jocie said.
“And who knows? In another couple of years it might be double again.”
“How’s that? You getting married?”
“No way. That’d take a miracle. Course this time last year I might have said it would take a miracle to get your pappy in the romantic mood.”
“So see, you never know,” Jocie said. “Zella may start using her matchmaking talents on you. She’s been acting pretty funny lately, so she’s bound to have something up her sleeve.”
“Zell always acts funny,” Wes said. “It’s her nature. But if she’s wanting to matchmake again, maybe she can order in a feller for Tabby. Or for you. You’re getting nigh on old enough to set some boy on his ear.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It’ll happen one of these days. But I ain’t rushing you. I sort of like you unattached so you still have time for your Jupiter grandpappy. You start making goggly eyes at boys, then I’ll have to chase after you on my cycle to get you to say hello. And to keep the boys straight.”
Jocie thought about Wes on his motorcycle chasing after her and some yet-to-be-named boy out on a date and laughed. “A lot is going to have to change before that happens.”
Wes was still smiling but something about his
smile looked almost sad. “Well, I guess that’s something we can be sure of. Everything changes.”
“What’s going on over there?” Jocie’s dad looked at them.
“We were just talking about how things change,” Jocie said. “And Wes said everything changes. It does, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe not everything,” her father said. “And certainly not the Lord. We can count on that. The Bible says so. Right, Aunt Love?”
Aunt Love looked up from patting Stephen Lee’s back to get him to burp and came out with the Bible verse. “Hebrews 13:8. Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and today, and for ever.”
Later Jocie finished writing in her notebook.
I’m glad some things change. I’m glad we have more people around our Christmas tree. I’m glad Dad and Leigh look so happy. I’m glad Wes is still telling me Jupiter stories. I’m glad Tabitha and Stephen Lee are here. I’m glad Aunt Love’s smiling more. I’m glad Zeb curls up on my feet to keep me warm when I sleep out on the back porch.
But I’m glad some things don’t change. Like the Lord. Like people loving other people a little extra at Christmastime. Like Dad and Wes loving me a little extra all the time. Like the Lord blessing people even when they don’t know what blessings they need.
Happy birthday, Jesus!
20
Leigh couldn’t remember ever being so happy. It could be she had never been this happy. Even coughing her head off until she had to sit up to try to sleep, she was happy. Nothing could make her unhappy tonight. Barring tragedy, and she certainly wasn’t going to think about tragedy tonight.
She was going to lie or rather sit there propped up in her bed on four pillows and let the good things that had happened in the last two days play over and over in her head. Maybe this was why she’d never gotten those wished-for gifts from Santa Claus when she was a little girl, so that she could save all her wishes come true for this one wonderful Christmas.
She was floating on a cloud of happiness. She’d stayed at David’s house all day. Had helped Aunt Love and Tabitha and Jocie put their midafternoon dinner on the table. Really had mostly just watched, since it seemed wise to stay away from everybody’s forks and spoons the way she had to be leaking cold germs. But it had been good to be in the kitchen with them. To see how Tabitha and even Jocie protected Aunt Love from her fading memory. To see the peace among them.
She’d sat at the table and peeked around at them while David was saying grace. Such an odd assortment. Every one of them so different and yet they all belonged. Even Wes. They were family. And now she was part of that family. She belonged with them. Nothing could spoil that. Nothing.
Not even her mother telling her she was an ungrateful child that morning when Leigh had called to tell her she was too sick to come go to Aunt Wilma’s house for Christmas dinner. She’d tried to sound as sick and pitiful as she could, but her mother hadn’t bought it.
“I’ll bet you’re not too sick to go to that preacher’s house.”
“Really I shouldn’t,” Leigh had said and coughed to prove it. She hadn’t said she wasn’t going. Just that she shouldn’t. She hadn’t told her mother about the ring either. She’d sworn Zella to secrecy for a day at least and hoped Zella was keeping her promise because if Mrs. Simpson heard the news, Leigh’s mother would know in minutes. And it would be better if Leigh could break the news in person.
Break the news? That was a funny way to think about it. Leigh pulled one of the pillows higher behind her head. You’d think somebody had died or something. And maybe for her mother, it would be like that. Her idea of Leigh would have to die and be reborn. Surely her mother would be able to see how happy Leigh was. Surely she could see that nothing but good for all of them could come from Leigh being in love and getting married.
That morning her mother had sounded near tears. “It’s a daughter’s place to come home and be with her parents on Christmas.”
“I’ll come Sunday. I’ll be less contagious by then. David and I will come after church.” She hadn’t been able to keep the tinkle of joy out of her voice as she said David’s name.
“I didn’t buy him a present,” her mother said. “I didn’t think he’d be here when we opened up our gifts.”
“He won’t care. He just wants to meet you. I want him to meet you. I want you to meet him.”
“It’s supposed to snow Sunday,” her mother said.
“They’re only calling for flurries, and I’m really sorry I can’t be there today.”
“No, you’re not.” Her mother sounded cross. “You want to be with that preacher’s family. You act like you don’t even have family of your own anymore. I never thought I’d have such an ungrateful daughter.”
Leigh’s hand tightened on the telephone receiver as she pulled in a long breath. She shut her eyes and reminded herself it was Christmas morning, that in a half hour she would be at David’s house, that her mother did love her, and that she loved her mother. Then she said, “I don’t think you do, Mother, and I’ll see you Sunday after church.”
“You could come early and go to church with me here. You know your father won’t.” Her mother didn’t give up easily.
“Aunt Wilma will come by and get you. I’m coming with David after church,” Leigh said patiently. She held out her hand and looked at the ring glittering on her finger and wondered about David’s mother who had once worn the diamond on her hand. Would she have liked Leigh? Would she have been happy for her son? “Merry Christmas, Mother. I’ll see you and Dad Sunday.”
Her mother hadn’t said Merry Christmas back. She’d just hung up. Leigh had felt sorry for a few minutes, but then the wonder of her happiness had swept her up on cloud nine again. Cloud nine wasn’t a bad place to be and one nobody at Brooke Central Station, as Wes sometimes called David’s house, begrudged. They were all glad she was there. All glad David had given her his mother’s diamond set in a new ring. It had been a nearly perfect day except for not getting to hold Stephen Lee.
She’d come home before dark. She was exhausted since, even if she hadn’t been coughing and sneezing all night Christmas Eve, she’d been too excited to sleep. She kept reaching over to touch the other side of the bed and thinking that next Christmas Eve, she’d be able to reach over and touch David lying there beside her.
She must have finally drifted off to sleep when the telephone rang and jerked her back awake. Her heart jumped up in her throat as she spilled out of bed and ran to the kitchen to stop its shrill ringing. She took a quick look at the clock when she turned on the light. It wasn’t really that late. Only eleven. Just because she’d already gone to sleep didn’t mean somebody was calling with bad news. Maybe it was her mother wanting to say Merry Christmas before the day was gone so they wouldn’t end Christmas Day at outs. Or David. That was more likely. David calling to say good night.
She was smiling as she picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
“Oh, did I wake you?”
It wasn’t David. Leigh didn’t recognize the voice. “I’m sorry. I think you must have the wrong number,” she said.
“This is Leigh, isn’t it? Leigh with eyes as blue as a clear summer sky.”
“Who is this?” Leigh was suddenly very awake. There was something about the voice that made her uneasy. Something that made her glance at the dark window over the sink as if she might see eyes staring in at her. There was no curtain over the window. No need for one since she was on the second floor and there was no neighboring house with matching windows. Her reflection stared back at her, pale and distorted by the window.
The man on the other end of the line laughed softly. “Don’t you recognize the voice of your secret admirer?”
“No, I don’t.” It wasn’t much of a lie. She hadn’t recognized his voice until he’d given her that clue. It was Edwin Hammond. Of course. Calling to claim credit for the roses. “And it’s too late at night to be playing games on the telephone.”
“I’m not playing games. I never play games. Life is muc
h too serious for that, my dear.”
“If you don’t say who you are, I’m going to hang up.” She shouldn’t have warned him. She should have simply hung up. She didn’t have to stand there talking to him just because his fingers had dialed her number. Just because he’d spent money sending her roses she didn’t want.
“You know who I am. Ed.”
“Ed?” She didn’t want to admit she knew who he was.
“Edwin Hammond.” He sounded irritated to have to say his whole name.
“Oh, Edwin,” Leigh said as if she’d just realized who he was.
“Your secret admirer.”
“How sweet of you to say such a thing. And the roses were lovely. But really you shouldn’t have. As it turns out, I’m already taken.”
“Taken?” Edwin laughed. “What an odd word to use. Taken. Taken by that over-the-hill editor-slash-preacher? I doubt very much he’s taken you anywhere of note. Certainly not to the places I could take you. The heights of ecstasy. The depths of love.”
“Goodbye, Edwin. Don’t call again.” She kept her voice even and calm, the way she did when one of their customers showed up at the clerk’s office to shout about having to pay taxes on this or that car they’d bought.
“Why? Are you afraid to talk to me? Afraid I will awaken some feeling inside of you that will transform your little world? Transform you into the woman you can be.”
She took the receiver away from her ear while he was still talking and hung it up. She couldn’t remember ever hanging up on anyone before. She stared at the phone for a few seconds until, just as she’d feared, it started ringing again. She counted the rings. When it got to eleven she thought of Mrs. Simpson and picked up the receiver, but she didn’t put it to her ear. She simply popped the plunger to disconnect the line and then laid the phone receiver down on the table. No one would call her before morning. And if her mother did need her for any kind of emergency, she’d call Mrs. Simpson first thing if Leigh didn’t answer the phone.
Summer of Joy Page 13