Bringing Home Christmas

by Vicki Hinze

  “I told you about the turtle.”

  He had. “And a goat, and is that Rory’s mule?”

  David stammered. “Rory’s playing Santa at the events and he just got out of the hospital with the bad ankle. He’s not too happy, having to wear the boot and use crutches. I couldn’t very well tell the man Hark wasn’t welcome.”

  “Hark?” Lauren asked.

  “Rory’s mule,” David said. “Hark.”

  “Uh-huh. Keeping Baxter out of dog jail, is more like it.”

  “True, but that’s an added perk.” He gave her an angelic smile.

  “And two raccoons, a squirrel, a parrot and—oh my word.” She gasped and grabbed his sleeve. “David, tell me you didn’t let anyone enter a snake.”

  “Calm down. It’s fake.” David looped their arms and leaned close then whispered, “I told Bailey Adams to toss it in so maybe you wouldn’t be too upset about the other interlopers.”

  “David Decker, you deliberately deceived me?”

  “Never,” he said. “Distracted you, yes. I did. But I did not deceive you.”

  A stir at center circle claimed Lauren’s attention. “Oh-oh. Baxter’s abandoning his post.” He hopped down from the bicycle cart and made a beeline for the 42’ White Pine tree half the town spent time decorating. Growling, he chomped down on the shiny red garland, and then he started tugging.

  “Kenneth!” Barbara ran toward the tree. “Baxter, stop that. If you pull the tree over, you’re going to hurt someone.” She scanned the circle. “Kenneth! Baxter’s going to cut his mouth on that garland. Do something.”

  The parade halted while Kenneth chased down Baxter and returned him in all his splendor to the cart. Bits of garland clung to his Santa beard. This time, Kenneth left Baxter’s leash on and clipped it to the cart. He wouldn’t be able to jump out again.

  Barbara rushed over to them. The parade waited and no one moved until Barbara checked Baxter’s mouth and made sure there were no cuts.

  “No one is complaining,” David said. “Don’t you find that odd?”

  “Not at all.” Lauren watched Barbara back away from the bicycle cart and announce that Baxter was fine. Such relief crossed her face. “He’s a pain,” Lauren said, “but he makes the Popes happy. That matters most, so everyone indulges them.”

  “Janelle.” David said, remembering that the Popes had lost their only child.

  Lauren nodded. “Baxter can do anything and it’s just fine. No one wants to see either of them ever again as torn up as they were then. It was heartbreaking.”

  “Baxter may be fine, but the garland is history. He’s chewed it to bits.”

  “The tree is still standing. That’s a win.” Lauren smiled up at David.

  “Why are there so many white ornaments with gold glitter?” he asked. “Crosses, snowflakes, doves, butterflies, stars—is that a shepherd’s crook?”

  “It is,” Lauren said. “There are fish, shells and chalices, too.”

  “There’s a story behind them, isn’t there?”

  “There’s a story behind each one of them,” she said. “My mother saw them in Virginia, and when she married my dad, she started a tradition here. They’re Chrismons—the white and gold ornaments. Those are the liturgical colors of the Christmas season.”

  “I’m seeing Mrs. Wong’s touch in these, too.”

  “Actually, you are. Every year, Mom and Mrs. Wong make a Chrismon for each child. They’re cut from white Styrofoam. It’s an annual youth group project. The kids choose the design they want and then they decorate it with gold glitter. Each of the designs is an ancient symbol for Christ or his ministry.”

  “An apt tradition for Christmas.”

  “After all these years, it’s such an ingrained tradition in the community, it wouldn’t seem like Christmas without it.” Lauren smiled. “One of those Chrismons is mine.”

  “They keep them all?” David seemed surprised.

  “They do, and every year, when the tree is being decorated, there’s a lot of people searching to find their Chrismon. Kids and adults.”

  “I like that tradition. It creates a real sense of belonging, and of a personal history in the community.” David stared a long moment at the tree. “Maybe one day I’ll have a Chrismon hanging there, too.”

  “I’d be shocked if you don’t already.” His jaw dropped, and Lauren smiled. “My mother probably put one on the tree for you the first year you were here.”

  “You think so?”

  “You’ll have to ask her to be sure, but let’s just say, it would be very unlike her not to have done one for you.”

  “Let’s go look for them.”

  He seemed so excited; Lauren couldn’t refuse.

  She spotted hers in the first few minutes. “My angel.”

  “How do you know it’s yours?”

  “My name’s on the back. I guess I forgot to share that part. When you finish decorating, you write your name on the back with the marker. Some use a paint pen.” She smiled up at him. “So you can always tell your Chrismon is yours.”

  “I really like this tradition.”

  It took a solid half-hour to locate David’s. But there it was, his name written in marker on its back, just like everyone else’s. “I found it,” he said excitedly. “Lauren, look. I found it.”

  She moved closer, but his hand shielded the ornament. “What is it?”

  “I’m an angel, too.” He sounded a little breathless, a little awed.

  “Told you she’d have done one.”

  “Funny,” he said. “I never expected an angel.”

  “I was told she thinks of you as her son.”

  David looked over at Lauren and blinked hard. “I almost was.”

  “Almost.” Lauren repeated, but there was no heat in her tone. Only regret. And from the sound of David, in that moment, at least, he regretted, too.

  “Your mother is really something,” he said. “That angel… including me. It’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

  Emotional. Very emotional. “You’re a good man. I’m sure there have been many nice things in your life.”

  “Not like this. Never like this.”

  The reason he was so moved came to her. “I’d forgotten your family didn’t celebrate Christmas.”

  “It was too much work, and we were too much trouble. I guess that’s why I get so involved in the festivities now. All those Christmases of nothing. I need to catch up.”

  “I hope you never catch up, David.” Lauren caught herself and grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” Her chilled face burned hot. “It’s just that you’re so full of wonder and awe at Christmas. I hope you never lose that. It’s a beautiful thing, and it’s contagious.”

  “Christmas is a time when anything can happen. Anything at all.”

  Nothing is impossible at Christmas. Familiar words. Her mother’s words. “Maybe it is.” Lauren smiled.

  “I guess we should get over to the park. The front of the parade will be arriving there soon, and the voting will start for the best costume.”

  “Okay.” She fell into step beside him and they made their way through the crowd of people around the circle to City Hall, then took the wide walkway to Hillside Park.

  “The weather is gorgeous today, isn’t it?”

  “It is. I didn’t dream it’d be this nice, considering last night. For a while, the snow was blowing horizontally.” She noted his limp was getting more pronounced. “All this walking… is it too much for the leg?”

  “It’s getting a little stiff.” Walking into the wind, he dipped his chin. “Walking usually isn’t that bad, but combined with the cold, it gets rough. It’s fine, though. I don’t want to miss a second of this.”

  The boy in the man, reveling in Christmas pleasures. “Lean on me.” She offered him her arm.

  He took it.

  The open expanse leading into the park proper was filled with snowmen, miniature reindeer and a red
sleigh. Blue, gold, red and green ornaments that had to each be five feet in diameter littered the snow-covered lawn between the trees. Silver icicles hung from low-slung branches like moss. “This is adorable,” Lauren said. “Who did it?”

  “The high school kids. They did everything from where you leave the circle all the way to the park gate.”

  “Outstanding job.” Lauren made a mental note to be sure to mention it to her mother, so some earned praise got back to the kids. They’d put their hearts into this project. Lauren pulled out her phone and snapped a few photos as a reminder and a memory. She took one of David, standing next to a snowman nearly as tall as he was, its carrot nose, the same shade of orange as his neck scarf. He looked…gorgeous, but something more. Happy. Really happy.

  A few minutes later, they entered the gate to the park. Huge pine wreaths with cones and large red ribbons hung on each side. Beyond it, to the left was a life-size Nativity scene, and to the right, Bailey Adams sat in his sleigh waiting for riders to arrive. “Ready and waiting,” he shouted to them. “You and Lauren ready for a ride?”

  “Later,” David said. “We have to check on the voting.”

  “Baxter will win,” Lauren said so only David could hear. “He always wins.”

  “I know the mutt is in every Ridger’s heart, but he hosted the parade. He can’t win this year.”

  Lauren fretted. “Barbara will be disappointed.”

  “Actually,” David covered her hand on their looped arms. “She removed him from the competition.”

  “Really?” Lauren didn’t bother trying to hide her shock.

  David grinned. “It would be unseemly for the host to win again.”

  “That’s a Kenneth remark.”

  “It was.” David waved to Paul Miller, driving the cart with Baxter and Mrs. Claus. The parade was hitting the park. “But Barbara agreed, after she got over the shock.” He chuckled.

  Bailey’s sleigh horse whinnied, and Bailey shouted. “Come on, kids. Load up and let’s go.”

  “I missed Rory at the parade. He is here, right?” Lauren scanned the grounds and spotted the wood stacked for the bonfire. The short safety fence surrounding it looked sturdy enough to keep the little ones away. The Fire Marshall would be satisfied, especially with a firetruck parked strategically close by.

  “There.” David pointed to the gap between the bonfire and the vendors selling balloons, funnel cakes, hot cider and cocoa and hotdogs.

  “Ah, good.” She walked on at David’s side. “Rory might be a recluse, but being Santa was really important to him, so I’m glad his ankle is letting him do it.”

  “He’s not moving around much, but I don’t think an Act of Congress or the Council could have stopped him from playing Santa.”

  “Odd, isn’t it?” she said. “The rest of the year, he can’t abide being around other people, but at Christmas…”

  David bent to whisper close to her ear. “Anything is possible. Even the grumpiest citizen in Holt Ridge playing Santa.”

  Binks had her camera set up on a tripod ready to photograph the kids on Santa’s lap. She had streaked her hair red and green in honor of the occasion and waved at them. Lauren waved back.

  “David.” Barbara Pope came rushing over to them, a little breathless. “Can you help? Baxter’s had a little… incident.”

  “What kind of incident?” Lauren asked.

  “One that involves candy canes and ribbons and has Rory Hardin threatening to leash him to a tree until the bonfire’s over.” She shrugged. “Baxter loves peppermint. Why Rory didn’t unwrap one for him, I have no idea. This whole incident could have been avoided.”

  “I’d better go see what I can do,” David told Lauren.

  She nodded. “I’m going to check with the craft vendors. I’m hoping Liz Baker’s selling some of her apple butter.”

  “Is it good?” David asked. “I love apple butter.”

  “The best in three counties.” She walked on toward the tent tops in the crafts section, passing a long line of teens waiting to get their faces painted.

  15

  December 22nd

  5:00 PM

  Rory’s nose stayed out of joint most of the afternoon with everyone except the kids. With them, he didn’t express so much as a hint of grumpy behavior. Lauren wondered why he couldn’t be that way more of the time.

  Caroline explained it. “He doesn’t want to need anyone. When you need someone and they leave you, it never stops hurting. So, it’s better to just never start needing them.”

  “Is that what you do?” Lauren looked at her sister. Her nose and cheeks were bright red from the cold. She and their dad had been so close. Caroline grieved hard. It made sense that she would shut people out to avoid that kind of pain again, but oh, Lauren hoped she wasn’t doing that.

  “This isn’t about me, it’s about Rory.”

  “I know what we were talking about, but I want to know if that’s why you avoid people, Caroline? Because if it is, you need to know there’s more to that story. Yes, you might spare yourself from getting hurt. People could leave. But some might stay, and those who do can bring you a lot of joy. You’re giving up all the good because there might be—might be—some bad. That’s not fair, Caroline. Not to you or to the others who could benefit from all you could share with them.”

  She stuffed her gloved hands into her jacket pockets. “I hadn’t looked at it that way, but I’ll think about it.”

  “Good.” That was a big concession from her sister, so Lauren didn’t push.

  “Speaking of hurt,” Caroline said, looking beyond Lauren’s shoulder, “here comes David.”

  Lauren turned and David joined them, smiling. “I bear good news.”

  “What’s that?” Lauren smiled back.

  “Hark won the best costume, and Rory is now in a really good mood.”

  “He was the cutest mule I’ve ever seen, dressed as an elf.”

  “Hark won?” Caroline gasped. “I made his costume. Oh, I have to go congratulate Hark—and Rory.” She rushed off.

  “I don't think I’ve ever seen her that animated.” David watched her go.

  “It’s rare and usually involves Rory.” Lauren chuckled. “I thought for a long time, if he were twenty years younger, he and Caroline would pair up.”

  “No, it’s more a father thing.”

  “You think?”

  She mentioned the mule first,” David reminded Lauren.

  Caroline had. “She always did like animals more than people.”

  “Did you see the hawk exhibition?”

  “I missed that,” she said. “Lys’s hawk, right?” Lys was Tom and Sylvia Miller’s granddaughter, and she had a way with hawks.

  David nodded. “Bliss. That’s the hawk she had with her today.”

  “Let me guess. You issued Bliss a waiver.”

  He cringed. “I did, but you would have, too.”

  A hawk is neither a dog nor a cat, David.”

  “But Lys saved her allowance for weeks and took Bliss down to Kay’s Salon and got her a manicure. Her talons were white with green trees and red dots for ornaments. Could you refuse her?”

  “Not a dog or a cat,” Lauren repeated.

  “But, Lauren, it’s Christmas.”

  She smiled over at him. “You’re right. I couldn’t have refused her. Lys would have gotten her waiver.”

  “Bliss came in second.”

  “Second?” They stopped at the signpost for the sleigh ride. “Wow. I guess those talons were something else.”

  “They were. And Kay did a snowflake on Bliss’s beak. Who would have thought a hawk would tolerate that without clawing?” David chuckled. “I asked how it went over with the other clients in Kay’s salon—having Bliss there. Lys seemed baffled by the question.”

  “I’m betting no one batted an eye. And that Kay had nearly as many four-legged clients booked this morning as two-legged ones.”

  “I’m not touching that bet.”

 
Lauren laughed. “Anything’s possible at Christmas.”

  “It is in Holt Ridge.” David glanced over at the mayor. “They’re about to light the bonfire.” He offered his arm. “Walk with me?”

  “Of course.” Lauren looped their arms and they walked over. On the way, she noticed a lot of smiles turned in their direction. What that was all about, she had no idea. But between smiles and stares, she’d take smiles every time.

  You’re going to get hurt again. This closeness between you…it comes too easily.

  She probably would. But she was already hurt, and this might be all she’d ever have with him. If that proved to be the case, she wanted as many memories to tuck into her heart as she could manage.

  They’d have to last her a lifetime.

  16

  December 22nd

  7:00 PM

  The mayor made a short speech about the traditions of the community and why they were important. He welcomed the guests, and then shared a little story of a Christmas long ago—the reason for the celebration. Even Reverend Wong was moved and dabbed at his eye with a paper napkin. The mayor reminded the kids they were on their honor not to get too close to the fire, and to stay well behind the fence, and then he lit the bonfire.

  The blaze quickly caught, and flames licked at the wood, lit up the sky. The warmth from it washed over the crowd in welcome waves. “Doesn’t the heat feel good?” Lauren asked David.

  “It does.” Standing close, he looped their arms.

  The distant voices of carolers singing Joy to the World came closer and closer. The observers joined in. Standing semi-circle near Santa, the carolers went from song to song, singing old favorites.

  “There you are, David.” Tom Miller tugged at his cap. “The mayor’s trying to call you.”

  “Everything all right?”

  Tom shrugged. “Best I can tell, everything except your phone ain’t working.”

  “Thanks.” David pulled his phone from his pocket and then checked. “Battery’s dead.”

  “You’ve been on it more than not all day,” Lauren said, then passed him her phone. “Use mine.” She hooked a thumb toward the vendors. “I’ve got to run over to the tents for a second. Be right back.”