The Christmas Hope

by VanLiere, Donna

  Emily ran downstairs and I helped her with her coat. “Are you coming to the activity tonight?” she asked Mark.

  Mark raised an eyebrow and looked at her. “What activity?”

  “The live one,” she said, pulling on her gloves.

  “The living Nativity,” I said.

  “You have to go because all the animals will be there,” Emily said. “Mary and Jesus, too.”

  “Well, of course I’ll go,” he said, opening the car door for her. I sat next to her in the backseat.

  “I love animals,” she said. I knew she did from the way Girl responded to her. “We had a cat named Harry once, but he ran away.”

  “I have an uncle named Harry,” I said. “We always wanted him to run away but he never did.” Mark laughed out loud and his sudden outburst made me laugh. I caught him looking at me in the rearview mirror and when I saw him he smiled. I wasn’t sure if he was smiling at me or because of what I had said. Did it matter? He was smiling again. And so was I.

  We walked into the room where Mia was being monitored and Emily ran to her side. She was awake. “Hello, sweet girl,” I said, stroking her hand with my finger. She smiled and Emily wrapped her hand around Mia’s.

  “Merry Christmas, Mia,” she said. “We’re going to see the animals tonight. I wish you could come with us.” She made faces at Mia and Mia giggled. Emily beamed. She was so proud. She reached into a bag and pulled out the tinsel and strand of lights she’d brought for Mia’s room. Mark plugged the lights in and formed them in a snake shape on the windowsill and wrapped the tinsel around Mia’s bed where she couldn’t reach it.

  “‘Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.’” Emily was singing. She looked up at Mark and me and nodded her head, trying to get us to sing as well. We looked around, hoping no one could hear, and joined in, whispering. “Louder,” Emily said. We sang louder and Mia kicked her feet. “‘In a one-horse ohhh-penn sleiiighh,’” we all sang, giving the song a big finish. Fortunately, Dr. Andrews entered the room after the song was through.

  He walked to Mark and extended his hand. “I’m Nathan Andrews.”

  “I’m Mark. Nice to meet you.”

  “She’s doing great,” he said, touching Mia’s leg.

  “Everything’s working?” I asked, looking at the wires surrounding her.

  “Everything’s doing exactly what it’s supposed to do.”

  “Will she ever be sick again?” Emily asked.

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “I think Mia’s going to surprise us all,” he said. “And I love surprises. Especially at Christmas.” He handed me an envelope and I opened it. It was full of money.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Somebody started a collection for Mia. We thought maybe you’d know what to do with it. You can use it however she needs it most.” I felt like a little girl again watching Pastor Burke hand my mother an envelope at Christmas.

  “This is so kind of everyone,” I said, wishing I were better with words. “I can’t believe they did this.” He smiled and I knew that Mia wasn’t the first child Dr. Andrews and the staff had rallied around at Christmas.

  “Are you ready for Christmas?” he asked Emily. She shrugged but kind of grinned.

  “Are you?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes. My dad and his wife and my grandmother are coming to visit us this year because my wife is so pregnant that everyone’s afraid she won’t be able to make the trip to see them. They say they’re coming to see us but I know they’re hoping she has the baby early.”

  “When is she due?” I asked.

  “The first of January.”

  “How long have you been married?”

  “Three years tonight!”

  We got out a round of congratulations before Dr. Andrews was paged to another room.

  “If I don’t see you again today, Emily,” he said, kneeling in front of her, “I hope you enjoy this Christmas and every one after it.”

  She put her arms around his neck and hugged him. When everyone left, Emily pulled the gift she had chosen at the department store out of the bag. Mark and I had followed her earlier as she went from one floor to the next looking for the perfect present. It was sitting alone on a shelf that had long been picked over and emptied. She fluffed the angel’s dress and set it on the windowsill by Mia’s bed and then leaned in and whispered something to her. I kissed my finger and put in on Mia’s head and then Emily did the same.

  “I suppose you’re not going to tell me what you said to Mia this time either,” I said.

  “I told her that her angel would stay with her until we got back. She can’t see her angel. That’s why I wanted to get her one, so she’d know what angels looked like.”

  Nathan Andrews walked past the nurses’ station on the way to his office. “Are there any messages for me?”

  A nurse looked at the message caddy next to her phone and shook her head. He walked toward his office, disappointed that he hadn’t heard from Rory yet.

  “Oh, wait, Dr. Andrews, you do have a message.”

  He turned around.

  “Sorry. It was sitting on the desk instead of in the message carrousel.” She picked it up and held it in front of her. It says, ‘Found the needle.’ That’s all.”

  Nathan smiled. He went to his office and picked up the phone.

  “Sorry, Dr. Lee had to go off site,” someone said. “Some sort of explosion. He’s already been gone close to an hour.”

  “Do you know if he left any sort of message to give to Nathan Andrews?”

  The woman shuffled through paperwork and grunted. “No, nothing here,” she said. “I expect them to roll back in here any minute.”

  Nathan asked her to remind Dr. Lee to call him but he wasn’t hopeful. Nathan jotted a name down on a notepad on his desk: “Mark.” He underlined it. Then he wrote “Mark and Patricia Addison.” He tried to put a face to the mother he had spoken to four years earlier but there was no use; he couldn’t. It was part of his job that he didn’t like; how names and faces could blur. For all he knew he was confusing everything in his mind: the young man, the mother, the gift, the social worker he’d met who had a deceased son. Coincidence? he thought. What were the odds? Slim, he thought, pushing away from the desk. In five hours he’d be eating dinner with his family. If Rory didn’t call before then he’d forget about it till after Christmas.

  After we returned home from the hospital Mark and Emily made a fire. When it crackled and popped and a steady flame wrapped around a log we sat together at the kitchen table and ate lunch. It was the first time Mark and I had sat at that table with someone else in four years. After lunch Mark sat on the sofa to read through the instructions for Candy Land. It had been so many years that neither one of us could remember how to play. He threw his legs up on the ottoman and Emily sat down next to him. Within minutes of Mark reading the instructions out loud she was asleep, falling over onto his shoulder. He tried to reach the blanket on the back of the sofa and I grabbed it, pulling it over her. “You may be there for a while,” I said, whispering.

  “I hope so,” he said, wrapping his arm around Emily’s shoulder and resting his hand on her arm. In a few short days Emily had managed to wrap Mark around her little finger. I guess she’d done that to both of us. It was going to be hard to place her in a foster home. I put the thought out of my mind. I didn’t want to think about that right now. I’d deal with it after Christmas; then maybe it wouldn’t be so hard. I looked at Mark. His head was resting on the back of the sofa and his eyes were closed. For so many years he hadn’t been able to sit and relax. He had kept himself busy; we both had. I never took the time to rest because that paved the way for thinking and remembering, and those were painful options, especially if I wasn’t ready for some of the memories. Emily repositioned herself and snuggled closer to Mark’s side. He was relaxed now and the look on his face told me he was at peace. I didn’t know if placing Emily was going to be harder on him or me.

  At five o�
�clock we loaded into the car to go see the living Nativity. We picked Mom and Dad up and they were wearing matching red turtlenecks with green cardigans. They looked like a singing Christmas duo that might perform at nursing homes. Mom’s sweater had a big Santa pin that said “ho, ho, ho” when you pulled his feet. Mark drove up the winding drive that led to Longworth Farm and noticed the man signaling him at the end of the field that had become the parking lot. The field was full of cars. Emily took Mark’s hand and then mine and pulled us forward toward the entrance. I’d never seen a child so excited to see a few animals. Mom and Dad ran behind us to keep up. Emily dragged us past a man selling sugarcoated pecans and roasted cashews and a woman selling hot chocolate and cider. The barns on the property had enormous lit stars on each roof and swags of spruce that hovered above the barn’s opening. Carolers dressed in Victorian costumes sang at the entrance of one barn while another was filled with a small petting zoo that included sheep, goats, ponies, and calves, each wearing a red Christmas ribbon and bell around its neck. Emily ran from one animal to another stroking its nose or patting its side. Mom snapped pictures of her with each animal, taking so many pictures that she had to change film.

  We walked out of the barn and saw lines of people waiting for the horse-drawn sleigh rides. “This is just like a winter wonderland,” Mom said, gasping at the sight of the sleighs gliding over the snowy meadow. I pulled Emily’s hood over her head and zipped her coat as we waited our turn but she didn’t seem to mind the chilly breeze. When our turn arrived, Mark and Emily and I sat in the front seat of the sleigh and Mom and Dad sat behind us. The driver clacked his tongue and the two black horses pulling our sleigh headed across the meadow, the bells around their necks jingling as they ran. Emily squealed and grabbed for my hand and Mark’s, holding our hands in her lap. She was beside herself when the horses pulled us through the woods.

  “We’re going into the forest like Snow White,” she said, looking wide-eyed around her. We passed a large gingerbread house with a waving gingerbread man out front and she popped up out of the seat. “Look,” she said, pointing. “We could eat that!” She put her hands up to her mouth and pretended to bite and make chewing sounds. Mark laughed and eased her back down. She clapped and stomped her feet and Mom snapped one picture after another. The ride was over much too soon. Mark helped Emily out of the sleigh and then offered his hand to me. I accepted it and he helped me to the ground. I know Mom and Dad saw us but they pretended not to notice. They’d gotten just as good at pretending as Mark and I had.

  We heard the music of a small orchestra and walked toward the largest barn in the distance where the Nativity was held. Large pine trees were decorated with white lights and an enormous star, bigger than those on the other barns, lit up the tin roof. “Wow,” Emily said, stopping us. From where we were standing we couldn’t see Mary or Joseph or any of the animals inside the barn because of the crowd in front of us. I noticed a spot opening up and moved toward it.

  “Come up here,” I said, leading the way.

  Emily turned toward Mark, and without asking, Mark knew that she wanted to be lifted onto his shoulders. Bright lights shone on shepherds and a small shepherd boy who wandered about with some sheep and lots of donkeys, cows, goats, and even a camel. When the menagerie moved out of the way we could see Joseph and Mary and the little Baby Jesus. The music was soft now, a lullaby. I pointed to Mary holding a wriggling baby and Emily smiled. She hadn’t expected to see such a small baby in the manger. Then the sky lit up and we looked to see five glowing angels hovering over the barn. The angel in front had long brown hair and a flowing crimson robe with delicate ribbons of gold. Music swelled as the angels opened their arms to the scene below them.

  “There she is!” Emily shouted, pointing to the angel. “That’s her!” Mark and I exchanged glances. Emily couldn’t take her eyes off the angel. Three wise men dressed in elaborate costumes rode through the center of the crowd on camels and made their way to the barn but Emily didn’t pay attention to them. “Look at her! Look how beautiful she is!”

  “She is beautiful,” I said.

  Emily looked at Mom and Dad and pointed to the angel for them to see. “I couldn’t see her because it was dark in my room. All I could feel was her hand.” Mark looked at me and we knew she was talking about the night her mother died. He put Emily down and I knelt in front of her.

  “An angel held your hand, Emily?”

  She nodded.

  “Didn’t that scare you when you felt someone’s hand in the darkness?”

  She looked at me as if I couldn’t understand anything. “Angels aren’t scary,” she said. “They’re nice. She held my hand and another angel held my mom’s hand.” That threw me for a moment.

  “How do you know an angel held your mom’s hand?”

  She was getting exasperated with me. “Because that’s what they do. They always watch us. When we die God sends an angel to hold our hand so we won’t be afraid. Then when we die we float up to heaven with that angel.” I could see Mom wipe her eyes. It’s what she had told me four years ago after Sean’s accident. The story of the angel was helping Emily with her mother’s death and I wasn’t about to change that. She needed to get through the grief in her own way. I took her hand and started walking toward the parking area. “Don’t you believe me, Patricia?” Her voice was small, not as strong as it had been earlier. “Don’t you believe that God sent my angel?” I searched her eyes. She believed everything she had told me.

  “Yes,” I said, pulling her toward me. “I believe you.” She reached for Mark’s hand and we walked in silence to the car.

  Meghan Andrews put the last of the roast into a glass dish and covered it with Saran Wrap. Nathan’s grandmother came up behind her and moved her out of the kitchen. “You cooked for us. Now we clean. Sit down before that baby decides to pay us all a visit on Christmas Eve. And you know what will happen if the baby comes too early?”

  Nathan kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “We know, Gramma,” reciting the old wives’ tale she’d told him for the past nine months. “If a baby comes early it’ll be slow to walk and slower to talk.”

  “That’s right. Your grandpa came early and he was nearly four years old before he talked.”

  “Maybe he didn’t have anything to say. Maybe he was the strong, silent type.”

  “Your grandfather couldn’t keep silent if you paid him!”

  Nathan laughed and helped his grandmother clear the table.

  “What I would give for this baby to come,” Meghan said, sitting at the table. “I can hardly breathe anymore.”

  Jack smiled and helped clear the table. He didn’t say it but Nathan knew his dad was anxious to meet his first grandchild.

  Lydia held her hand on Meghan’s stomach. “Oh, my goodness. We’ve got a little one who’s excited about Christmas in there.” Lydia had married Jack four years earlier. Nathan wished his own mother could meet his children and be called Grandma by little ones who clamored to get onto her lap but he had realized a long time ago that that would never happen. Lydia would be the baby’s grandma. She had grandchildren already and was a good grandma. Nathan and Meghan knew she would love their child as one of her own as well.

  When the dishes were finished, everybody sat in the living room by the tree and continued to talk about work, family, old friends, and the new baby. At nine o’clock the phone rang and Nathan answered it.

  “Just another holiday in the ER.” It was Rory.

  “Are you still standing?”

  “Barely. I have something for you.”

  Nathan walked to the closet and pulled the timepiece out of his pocket.

  “There was a Sean Addison brought in four years ago on Christmas Eve.”

  Nathan looked at the inscription on the watch. “Mom, Always … S.”

  “Did anyone happen to record his personal items?” Nathan asked.

  “No, there’s nothing listed.”

  Nathan sighed. He knew it had been too mu
ch to hope for. He closed his hand around the pocket watch. “I owe you one.”

  “Actually, you owe Stephanie in Records. She did all the work.” Nathan wished Rory a merry Christmas and hung up the phone. He sat on the sofa and wanted to share the story with the rest of his family but they were looking at Meghan’s ultrasound pictures … again. He held the watch in his hands and shook his head. What if the watch didn’t belong to the young man who had died that night in the ER? The S on the watch might not mean Sean. It could be for a Steven or Sarah or Susan. What if he gave this to Patricia Addison and she thought he was crazy? He had to be at the hospital early tomorrow; he could leave the watch on the Addison’s front porch without their knowing and if it didn’t belong to Patricia then she’d just assume someone left it at the wrong house. But with that settled, the question still nagged him: what if he was mistaken? He rubbed his thumb over the engraving on the watch, then put it in his shirt pocket, propped his feet up on the coffee table, and smiled. It wouldn’t be the first time he was wrong.

  EIGHT

  The word which God has written on the brow of every man is Hope.

  —Victor Hugo

  I opened my eyes at six. It was Christmas morning and for the first time in years I didn’t feel any sense of dread. I felt joy. But that couldn’t be possible, not given Emily’s situation or mine and Mark’s. How could I feel such excitement about today? I leaned up on the bed and looked at Emily. Please open the doors of a beautiful home for her with parents who will be crazy about her. Help her to enjoy today. Somehow. Some way. I tiptoed out of the room and headed for the bathroom. I wanted to shower before everyone got there to watch Emily open her presents. Mark had put them under the tree last night after she had gone to bed. I turned the water on in the shower but thought I heard the doorbell. It couldn’t be. Not at this hour. I thought I heard it again and turned off the water. Nothing. If it was the doorbell I assumed Mark would have heard it, too. I showered and got ready for the day before heading to the living room to plug in the tree. It was gorgeous. I found the camera so I’d be sure to have it with me as Emily opened her presents. I went to the kitchen, put the turkey in the oven, and started to peel sweet potatoes when I heard a door open upstairs. Girl’s nails clicked on the hardwood floor at the top of the landing. “Patricia.” I put down the knife and walked to the stairs. Emily and Girl were standing at the top resembling a picture on a Christmas card. Emily’s hair looked as if it had been teased and ratted during the night and one of the legs of her pajamas was halfway up her calf. She held Ernie as Girl stood next to her, wagging her tail. “Is it Christmas?”