A Christmas Star

by Thomas Kinkade

  “IT’S JUST TEMPORARY, JESS. YOU’RE RIGHT ABOUT LEAVING Molly’s house,” Sam added. “We need our own place, our privacy. Staying with our relatives isn’t working out.”

  Despite Jessica’s insistence that they could see the cabin another day, Sam made them stop at the New Horizons campus with Luke right after their visit to Lillian’s.

  Now she and Sam stood outside the cabin while the boys ran over to the basketball court. They had found a ball in the back of Luke’s SUV and began to play, ignoring the patches of snow on the blacktop.

  Luke had gone to the main building for a set of keys so he could take them inside. Jessica didn’t really need a tour. She could already tell what the place was like from peering through the low windows.

  Rustic would be a nice way of putting it. More like cramped and depressing, she thought. Sure, they would have privacy, especially once the center was closed for the winter break. But it was nothing like a real house. Certainly nothing like the home they had lost.

  “Sam . . . I don’t know if I can live here. I mean, it’s just a shack. It looks cold and damp inside.”

  “Luke winterized everything. New windows and insulation. I did some of this work myself,” he reminded her. “Look, there’s a wood-burning stove in the living room. It gives off plenty of heat.”

  She looked at the stove through the window. It terrified her. The fireplace hadn’t started the blaze that had devoured their house. Still, she couldn’t imagine purposely lighting a fire indoors ever again.

  She took a deep breath and stepped back from the window. “It’s not really a living room,” she pointed out. “I’d call it the only room.”

  Sam forced a smile. She could see he was losing patience but trying hard to convince her. “Good point. Open floor plan. That makes the place feel more spacious. Think of it this way, it will take five minutes to clean up here, not all day.”

  Jessica couldn’t argue with that. She’d had a sign in her old kitchen that read, “It’s a small world . . . unless you have to clean it.”

  She realized now she should have been more grateful that they’d had a house so large it took all weekend to clean up.

  “Jess, please.” Sam rested his hands on her shoulders. “Trust me on this. It’s a good solution. We can stay here, rent free, as long as we need to. Not that it will be that long,” he hastily added. “We’ll have our privacy. The boys have plenty of space to run around and play. We won’t have to put them in straitjackets, the way we would have to at your mother’s. Look at them—” He made her turn and follow his gaze. “This is kid paradise. Luke already said they can use the gym and the library, any time.”

  “Just what I had in mind. Moving to a sports complex.” Jessica let out a long breath and crossed her arms over her chest. He had her beat. She couldn’t win this and decided to stop trying.

  They would have their privacy and maybe it wouldn’t be for that long. Though Sam had repeatedly offered to pay some rent, Luke wouldn’t hear of it. That was important, too. This was a challenging time for them. They all had to sacrifice and compromise. Sam hadn’t said that exactly, but she knew that’s what he was thinking.

  She looked down and sighed. “Okay. Let’s try it. It can’t be worse than breaking up fights between Tyler and Noah every five minutes.”

  Sam smiled and his brown eyes sparkled. “That’s my girl.” He slung his arm around her shoulder. “It’s going to be fun having Christmas here. You’ll see.”

  THEY MOVED IN ON WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, THEIR FEW BELONGINGS packed into Sam’s newly repainted SUV. They picked the boys up at school and all went over to New Horizons together. Sam and Jessica both thought it was important to keep the kids part of the process. The boys had been through so many changes during the past two weeks, she worried about how it was affecting them. But they seemed to be rolling with the waves, Jessica noted. Which was more than she could say for herself. She felt pulled under and wasn’t sure she would surface anytime soon.

  Luke and Sara were both at the cabin to help them move their things inside. “Here, let me take that.” Sara stepped over to help as Jessica walked toward the cabin with a big black trash bag filled with bedding.

  They had borrowed a few duffel bags for clothes from Molly, but the rest of their things were packed in black trash bags and boxes. Like real vagabonds, she thought.

  “I’m okay. There isn’t much,” Jessica replied.

  “At least we didn’t need any furniture,” Sam said, holding the door open for her. “There’s a load of stuff over at the church, though. I asked Reverend Ben to bring us a few things that looked good.”

  Jessica glanced at him. Lately, her idea of what looked good and Sam’s seemed worlds apart.

  In just a few minutes, their bags and a few cartons were inside the cabin, piled in the middle of the “only” room.

  It really wasn’t so bad, she told herself. Luke had thoughtfully arranged for the cabin to be cleaned before their arrival. Even the windows sparkled, Jessica noticed. Though the shelter was basic, it was freshly painted. The kitchen was tiny, but the small appliances were not too old or run-down looking.

  “Where do you want to start?” Sara asked helpfully.

  “I guess we can make up the beds,” Jessica said.

  The two women picked up the bedding and headed for the smaller bedroom. The room had camp-style bunk beds with wooden frames. The mattresses were thin, Jessica thought, making a mental note to buy some foam mattress pads.

  The boys ran in and followed them. “Is this going to be our room?” Tyler was already climbing up to the top bunk bed, without using the ladder.

  Sara nodded. “Sure is.”

  “I call top!” He pounced on the mattress and bounced around. “This is awesome! How come we never had these in our old house?”

  Jessica opened a sheet with a snap. “Because you each had your own bedroom. You didn’t need to sleep together in one room.”

  “I like this better.” He peered over the edge of the bed and looked at his brother who was now sitting on the lower bunk.

  “Hey, Darrell,” Tyler said, smiling upside down at him.

  Darrell ignored him. “Mom, can I put a poster under here?” He pointed to the bottom of Tyler’s mattress. “That would look cool.”

  “Sure, that would be fine.” Jessica pulled out the pillows and handed one to Sara.

  Sara glanced at her. “I think they like the bunk beds.”

  Jessica nodded. Kids were so easily satisfied sometimes. Tyler thought the room was a big improvement over his old one.

  She couldn’t help but think of how she had carefully decorated each of their bedrooms in the old house. Tyler’s room had been dark blue with a Curious George monkey theme. Darrell’s room was more suited for a teenager, with two walls a pumpkin color and the others electric green. He had put up his own posters of sports heroes and music celebrities and photos of his friends and family. And Reilly, of course.

  Darrell had been so subdued since Reilly’s death. He had been mourning, Jessica knew. It was good to see him a bit more animated today, excited about the cabin.

  Even if she hated it.

  “Okay, boys, scoot. We have to make up the beds now,” Jessica told them.

  Tyler quickly scrambled down from his perch. “Can we play basketball, Darrell? Luke gave me a ball and said we can keep it.”

  The perfect housewarming gift for the boys. And Sam, Jessica thought.

  Darrell nodded. “Okay, Ty. Let’s go.”

  Tyler could barely carry the ball, much less get it through the hoop. But Darrell was usually patient and tried to teach his little brother. He had been even more patient since the fire, Jessica noticed. As if in some way, he appreciated Tyler more.

  They ran out of the room and Jessica heard the door slam.

  “At least you’ll know where they are when they go out to play,” Sara said.

  Jessica nodded and forced a smile. Everyone was trying so hard to convince her of the
upside of this place. Did she look that glum? Probably. And she shouldn’t be, she reminded herself.

  “We really appreciate everything you and Luke are doing for us,” she told Sara. “This place is awfully sweet. I’m sure we can make it cozy.” She didn’t fully believe any of that but thought that maybe if she said these things aloud, she would convince herself.

  It wasn’t long before the beds were made, their box of hand-me-down dishes and glasses was unpacked, and their clothing and other housewares were put away.

  “I hope you guys are comfortable here,” Luke said as he and Sara pulled on their jackets and got ready to leave. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”

  Sara leaned over and gave Jessica a hug. “I would have loved having you at Grandmother’s house, Aunt Jess. But I think this might be a better solution, after all. You know how Lillian gets.”

  “I do,” Jessica agreed. Considering Sam’s relationship with his mother-in-law and the way Lillian reacted to her energetic grandsons, they wouldn’t have lasted there very long.

  “It was best to skip that stop. We probably would have ended up here anyway,” she had to admit.

  She and Sam stood at the door and waved as Sara and Luke drove off. It was not even five o’clock, but it was already growing dark outside. “Maybe we should call the boys in. They could get hurt playing in the dark.”

  “I’ll get them,” Sam said. “It’s still early, though. I thought we could go buy a tree.”

  “A Christmas tree?”

  “Sure, why not? It will cheer up the place,” he added. “We’ll just have to make some decorations. Or pick some up.”

  The thought of decorating a Christmas tree tonight was overwhelming. “Not tonight, Sam. . . . We’re still unpacking.”

  “No, we’re not,” he pointed out.

  “I still have organizing to do,” she insisted. “Can’t it wait?”

  Sam leaned back, staring at her. “Did you really say that? The woman who runs out to get her Christmas tree the minute Jack Sawyer puts his sign up?”

  Jessica knew that was true. “This is different.”

  His teasing expression disappeared. His tone was warm and tender. “I know you’re blue tonight, honey. I know this isn’t your idea of a great place to settle. But we can fix it up a little, make it more our own. A tree would definitely help. I’ll get some pizza for dinner, and the kids will have some fun tonight.”

  When she didn’t answer he added, “The boys have to have Christmas, Jess. It’s important that we try to keep things as normal as possible for them. We have to keep going. I know how you feel, but we have to show the kids that it’s not the end of the world.”

  That did it. He didn’t understand at all, did he?

  She couldn’t pretend things were fine for another second. “It does feel like the end of the world to me, Sam. Why can’t you just admit how awful this situation really is? Is sticking a Christmas tree in this shabby little shack going to make anything better?”

  He looked stung by her outburst but didn’t answer.

  “We lost everything. Why can’t you just admit that?”

  Sam stared at her for a long, cold moment. Then he grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. “I’m taking the kids to get a tree. We’ll be back in a little while.”

  Suddenly left alone, Jessica sank down onto the small couch and cried. She put her hands up to her face, disgusted with herself. Why couldn’t she just make the best of it, the way Sam did? Why did she feel so broken? And why did she keep dissolving into these ridiculous tears? She was sick of crying, but she couldn’t seem to stop. She stared around the strange, nearly bare room and felt so empty. So bereft.

  How had she ended up here? It felt like a nightmare that just wouldn’t end.

  She heard a knock on the door and wondered if it was Sam, coming back to apologize. She quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She didn’t want him to see that she had been crying again.

  She stepped to the door and saw Reverend Ben through the window. He stood on the front step, holding a brass pole lamp.

  He smiled at her as she pulled open the door. “Reverend Ben. Sam said you might drop by. I hope it wasn’t out of your way.”

  Ben and Carolyn Lewis lived in the village, in the opposite direction. And yet he had come all this way to bring them a lamp. It was kind of him, also typical. Reverend Ben was one of the kindest people she had ever known.

  “I wanted to see how you were doing. Sam said you could use this lamp, and I also have a very nice area rug on the front step out there.”

  He set the lamp down and Jessica looked it over. It needed to be polished but it wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was a little like one in their old family room.

  “The wiring is all new,” Reverend Ben told her. “I checked it myself.”

  She glanced at him, feeling he had read her mind. “It’s very nice. Thank you. Can I help you get the rug?”

  “I’ll bring it in later when I go.”

  It appeared he expected to stay and talk. Jessica wasn’t in the mood for visitors. Even Reverend Ben. But she didn’t want to seem rude. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

  She wasn’t even sure where the coffee and tea bags had ended up. Or the cups. She half-hoped he would refuse.

  “I wouldn’t mind some tea, thank you,” he said. “If you’re having some.”

  “I was just going to put on some water.” She couldn’t forget her manners, no matter where she wound up. Her mother had drummed good etiquette into her and Emily so thoroughly. Never let your guests feel uncomfortable was the first rule. Though Lillian herself seemed to follow the opposite of that credo most of the time.

  Jessica opened a few cupboards and found a small pot. She filled it with water and set it on the tiny stove to boil. Then she looked around for the tea, sugar, and cups.

  “Sam took the kids to get a Christmas tree,” she explained. “He’ll be sorry he missed you.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll catch him at his shop sometime.” Ben sat on a stool at the counter that separated the tiny kitchen from the “only” room.

  “It must be hard on your family, all this moving around. On top of everything you’ve been through.”

  Jessica glanced at him. She wasn’t going to lie and act as if the last week or so had been a snap. A big, fun family adventure. The way Sam might have answered.

  “It is hard. I think it is, anyway.” She located two cups and put tea bags inside. “It was bad enough to lose our house. But wandering around and ending up here for who knows how long . . . It doesn’t seem fair.”

  He nodded. “You feel angry. I understand.”

  “Yes, I feel angry.” She looked at him with an unexpected sense of relief. Finally, somebody was willing to acknowledge her true feelings. “Mostly, I just can’t understand. Why us? Why did this have to happen to my family? I know we aren’t perfect, but we try to do right. We try more than some people, I’d say. Is this the reward we get?”

  When Ben didn’t answer, she added, “Sometimes I feel as if we’re being punished. I really do.”

  “By God, you mean?” he clarified.

  She thought he would be shocked by the idea stated so plainly. But he didn’t look shocked at all. She realized he had probably heard this before. She couldn’t be the first person to have vented to him about a tragic loss, to be boiling over with all these feelings of confusion, frustration, and even anger.

  She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes. By God.”

  Reverend Ben nodded. He didn’t answer for a moment.

  “I wish I could explain it to you,” he said at last. “But nobody can, of course. I’m not going to try to tell you that it could be worse. Or that something good can come out of all this tragedy, either. It might,” he added. “But that’s not the point, is it?”

  She was relieved that he wasn’t trying to smooth over the truth with a bunch of easy clichés—or trying to make her feel guilty and ungrateful for thinki
ng this way.

  “No, it’s not the point,” she agreed bleakly. “I don’t believe that anyway. I can’t see what possible good can come from any of this.”

  “I don’t know why bad things happen to good people,” the Reverend admitted. “Can you blame God for the fire? I have to tell you, Jessica, I just don’t know about that either. Maybe it’s just chance. A random accident. Maybe we can’t hold God accountable for such things, but we can turn to him for help. For comfort, when bad things do happen.”

  Jessica noticed the water for their tea was boiling, and poured it into the cups. But her mind was on what Reverend Ben had just said.

  Had she tried turning to God for help and comfort in the midst of this mess? Is that what Ben was asking her? She had prayed. Immediately after the fire and in the days that followed, she had offered heartfelt prayers of thanks for her family coming out alive. But other than that? She couldn’t really remember. She had felt too drained to turn to God. Too empty.

  And mad.

  She set out the sugar and milk then sat on the stool across from him. “Sam says it’s not the end of the world, but it feels as if it were to me. It feels as if our life will never be the same. It will never get back to normal.”

  Reverend Ben nodded. “I’m sure it feels that way. You’ve suffered an overwhelming loss. But things will get better. Some days, it might seem the situation really isn’t improving. It might look even worse.”

  Like moving into this cabin? she wanted to say.

  “But as time passes, you and Sam will gain a foothold again and keep going. I know you will.” He looked across the counter and met her gaze. “I think you have to accept the fact that things will never be exactly the same, Jessica. That’s just not how life works. Change is inevitable, even in the best of times. Good experiences and bad ones, they come to us all, and they change us, especially an event this momentous. You know that,” he reminded her.

  Jessica nodded and sipped her tea. She did know what he said was true. But it wasn’t her favorite life lesson. She had always felt she was a good-hearted person, but at her core, she knew she wasn’t that flexible. She liked her life settled and predictable.