by Leah Atwood
“Hmm. Seems my son’s been holding out on me.”
Kate came up behind them. “What’s my brother up to?”
“Cooking.” Maria winked. “Should I ask him to help with tomorrow’s dinner?”
“My brother…making Christmas dinner?” Kate shuddered. “It’s on my list of top three favorite meals of the year. Don’t let him ruin it, please.”
“You’d be surprised.” The need to defend him pressed hard against her heart. “If you’d tasted Thanksgiving dinner, you’d have no doubt.”
Leaning her head to the side, Kate’s features spread in surprise. “You’re serious? My brother can cook?”
“Yes.”
“Cool.” Kate turned to her mom. “What can I help with?”
“You know the drill.” Maria swatted her daughter with a dishtowel. “Scat.”
“Fine, you win this round, but I help with cleaning up the rest of the meals.” Kate waved a hand over her face. “It’s hot in here. I need fresh air. Want to come outside with me, Janie?”
The idea of sitting in frigid temperatures didn’t appeal to her whatsoever right now, but she wouldn’t turn down the offer since she was a guest. “Let me grab my sweatshirt.” It’s all she had to keep warm with. When she’d packed, she hadn’t expecting to even use that.
“A sweatshirt won’t cut it out there today. I meant to tell you earlier I brought an extra coat for you to borrow this week. It’s in the foyer.” Gesturing for Janie to follow, Kate left the kitchen.
Once in the foyer, Kate handed her a belted navy pea coat. “You’re a little smaller than me, so this should fit you perfectly. Actually, you can have it if you’d like. Once I fasten the buttons, the jacket’s too snug on me now.”
“It’s beautiful. Thanks for thinking of me.” Janie slipped her arms through the sleeves. “Evan told me it would be warm. I took his word for it and never bothered checking the weather for myself.”
“We get a few cold days like this in January, but it’s not normal. I’ve been praying for a white Christmas.” She stopped short, then cringed. “That probably sounds a trivial request to pray for after all you’ve been through, but I want this to be a Christmas to remember.”
“Nothing’s too trivial for God.”
“Very true.” Kate’s features relaxed. “There’s a swing out back. It’s my favorite spot here. Is that fine with you?”
“Sure.” Glancing around, she looked for any sign of Evan. She hadn’t seen any of the men since breakfast ended.
“If you’re wondering where the men are, my guess is the shop. Dad has a Model-T that he shows off at every chance. He’s almost done restoring it, so he couldn’t wait for Evan to see it.” Pulling her long blonde hair from under her coat, Kate wrapped a scarf around her neck with the other.
Janie caught herself staring at Kate. She and Evan were definitely brother and sister; however, their appearances were different in almost every way. Both were tall, trim, and had inherited the attractive gene, but Kate had light features—ivory skin, blonde hair, blue eyes. Her face had soft curves whereas Evan’s were more angular. His dark brown, wavy when not cut to military standards, hair stood as a stark contrast to Kate’s. And his eyes were a shadowed charcoal shade, so very different from his sister’s.
“Do I have egg on my face?” Kate scrubbed at her cheeks.
Embarrassed to be caught staring, Janie felt her cheeks warm. “I’m sorry. I was comparing you and your brother.”
“I know, I know, we don’t look anything alike, but we both have an identical birthmark on our backs that our bio mom also had—in the shape of Africa, of all things.”
“My siblings and I all look alike.” Janie walked beside Kate toward the back door. “When I was little, I used to wish for a little difference, like blonde hair. Don’t tell Evan, but in high school I tried dying my hair once. Turned out orange.”
“I know what you mean. My best friend, Sophie, has gorgeous auburn hair with the perfect amount of wave.” Kate laughed. “Funny, I was jealous of that—and not of her marrying a country star.”
“Bryce Landry, right?”
“Yes.”
Affection surfaced. “If I gave you a note to pass on, could you give it to him? I’ll never forget the prayers he initiated around the country last year for Mike and the others while they were missing. I found out after the fact that it was him who paid for Mike’s funeral. I’d like to thank him.”
“He was honored. When he heard about Mike, it nearly crushed him.” Kate held the door open for Janie to walk through. “But yes, I’ll be glad to, next time I see Sophie. They might even come for New Year’s.”
“I appreciate it.”
Kate sat down and patted the empty spot beside her on the swing. “Have a seat.”
They rocked in unison for several minutes, enjoying the calm silence. Despite the freezing temperature, the fresh air invigorated her.
“How’s my brother doing?” Kate gazed at her solemnly. “I don’t want the version he gives everyone, but the truth.”
Janie sighed. How were any of them doing? It depended on the day. “He’s stubborn, which aids or hampers his leg depending on the situation. It drives his determination to have a normal life, but he doesn’t listen to his limits and brings on pain he could have avoided.”
“Stubborn should have been his middle name.” Her soft tone implied no hard feelings toward him for having that quality. She gazed in the direction of the shop. “He’s walking a lot better than he did in August.”
“He does well for the most part. He won’t tell anyone, but he still uses the cane sometimes at home.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve noticed the cane in different spots around his apartment, always the day after he had a particularly rough time.” Her own gaze shifted to the shop. “Don’t say anything to him about it. For reasons only he knows, which I assume relate to pride, he doesn’t want people to know.”
“It stays between us.” Kate made a zipping motion over her lips. “How are the scars? Not the physical ones, but the ones that can’t be seen.”
“From what I can tell, he’s doing well. We all have our moments, but he’s moving on, trying to figure out what to do next.” She fought the heaviness in her chest with a deep breath. “Jared’s the one I’m more worried about. He won’t talk much about it, and I think he’s taken to drinking.”
“He wasn’t physically in the crash, was he?”
Janie shook her head. “No. They’d all been goofing off the day before, and Jared sprained his ankle. Mike took his spot on that mission.”
Kate’s mouth formed a wide O. “That’s an open door for a load of unnecessary guilt.”
“They’ve all struggled with guilt, but none as much as him. He wouldn’t look me in the eye for weeks after they came home.” Moisture gathered in her eyes. Go away tears. I’ve shed enough of you. “When he finally explained why he’d been distant, he apologized, and I told him there was nothing to apologize for. It could have been any of them in the helicopter, and he didn’t cause the crash. None of them did.”
“You never had a moment when you wanted to blame him?”
“Not one. Any one of them would give their life for the others.” She stopped, stared in the distance, collected her thoughts. “I hate that Mike died. It’s a grief that soaks into your bones, and it tears you apart from the inside out. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I don’t know why He called him home so soon, but I finally had to accept that God’s timing is not mine. Who’s to say if Mike had been on base that he wouldn’t have been killed in an attack there. Life is too short to ask the what ifs.”
“That’s an amazing testimony.” Kate wiped at her eyes. “You’re a strong woman.”
Janie snorted. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew me better. Just because I’ve accepted Mike’s death, doesn’t mean I’ve dealt with it. It’s hard trying to discover who I am without him because I don’t want to be without him. I cry at the drop
of a hat, I panic over dumb stuff, and I lay in bed until all hours of the night wondering who will take a dead mouse out for me if there’s one in the trap.” She choked on a self-effacing laugh. “And you know the craziest part of it. I don’t even have any mousetraps set.”
Kate erupted into a full laugh and held a hand over her mouth until she stopped. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t think I’m laughing at you or making light of your grief at all. I doubt I could even function at all if Luke died. But the mouse part—that happened to me last month. Luke was at a conference, and I came home to find a dead one on the kitchen floor.”
“What did you do?” Janie grimaced. Bugs and creepy crawlers, even snakes, she could handle, but rodents were an absolute no.
“Ran outside and called my dad. I wouldn’t go back in until he came and got rid of it.”
“At least you had him to come to your rescue.” Picturing the scene, she laughed, knowing she’d have done the same, and sent an urgent text to Jared or Evan, or knocked on a neighbor’s door.
“It’s pretty humbling to know a mouse can bring you to your knees, isn’t it?”
“Right?” She wiped away the tears of mirth. “Thanks for sharing the story. I needed that laugh.”
“Don’t tell Evan. He’ll never let me live it down.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“It’s getting cold.” Kate stood from the swing. “Think Mom will let us near the kitchen yet?”
“We’ll aim for the living room.” She rubbed her numb hands as she rose. “After taking a detour for coffee.”
“Yes. Or hot chocolate. Mom always keeps a stash hidden in the top cabinet.”
“Even better.”
Kate grabbed her hand and dragged her along like they were little girls playing during recess. “I’ll warn you now, we’ll have to make enough for everyone. If I know my brother, he’ll come in as soon as we finish stirring in the milk.”
“Do you have the marshmallows for him?”
“Of course.” Kate stopped inside the door. “Well, I say that—but I don’t know. Mom should have them.”
“He’s so odd. If anything has a hint of marshmallow in it, he won’t eat it, yet he won’t drink hot chocolate without them.”
“No one ever claimed my brother is normal.” At the cabinets, Kate stood on her tiptoes and pulled down a can of hot chocolate mix and a bag of marshmallows. “Score.”
Maria walked into the kitchen. “What are you girls up to?”
“Making hot chocolate. Want some?” Kate set the ingredients on the counter.
“I’m still full from breakfast.”
“There’s always room for this,” Janie said, holding up the can.
“Maybe a small cup.” Maria darted a glance out the window toward the shed. “If you don’t mind, make some for the boys. You know Evan has a sixth sense about these things.”
Kate chuckled. “We’d already planned on it.”
Sure enough, as Janie stirred the sixth cup of hot chocolate, the men returned to the kitchen.
Evan grabbed a cup and turned to Luke. “Didn’t I tell you they’d have some ready?”
Smiling, Luke grabbed the cup Kate handed him. “Yes, you did.”
Once everyone had a cup, they all moved to the living room. Evan’s dad plugged in the tree lights and switched on the radio. A classic version of “Jingle Bells” played, adding a pep to the air.
Unsure if the family had favorite seats, she hung back until everyone else sat down. Her only choices were to crowd Luke and Kate on the sofa or sit by Evan on the loveseat.
Evan patted the empty cushion and grinned. “I don’t bite.”
“Yes, he does.” Kate held out an arm. “I have the scar to prove it.”
“I was four.” Evan rolled his eyes and heaved an exasperated sigh. “Sisters. And don’t let her convince you she’s innocent. I have my own scars from her.”
“You probably deserved it.” She winked as she plopped down beside him.
Kate’s smug expression covered her entire face. “I like her. Can we keep her around?”
“And have you two gang up on me? I don’t think so.”
Janie crossed her hands over her heart. “I’m so hurt.”
Evan leaned over. He had a charming smile, but his eyes said more than she could read. “You can stick around for as long as you want.”
Chapter Eight
A knock sounded on Evan’s bedroom door. He lazily drifted into consciousness and glanced at the ancient alarm clock. Why was he being summoned before six in the morning?
He wiggled out from under the decade old blue comforter and pulled on a shirt. Padded to the door as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.
Janie’s hand froze in the air, about to knock again when he opened the door. A smile stretched as wide as her lips allowed. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too.” He covered his yawn with a hand. “It’s early.”
“I know, but I woke up an hour ago, and I’m too excited to go back to sleep.”
Still working on coming fully awake, he smiled sluggishly. “Excitement’s good. Maybe not so much at five thirty in the morning, but good.”
“Trust me, you’ll feel differently in a minute.” She yanked his arm, pulling him out of the room. “Come see.”
“Where are we going?”
She didn’t answer.
Another yawn came as he followed her down the hallway. He stretched his arms over his head, attempting to get his blood flowing and bring life to his body. His leg ached, as it normally did first thing in the morning, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.
Her speed increased after they hit the bottom of the stairs. She practically skipped to the front door, giddy as a child, and reached it several seconds before he did.
“Are you ready?” She stood with a hand on the doorknob, a goofy grin on her face, and wearing red reindeer pajamas his mom had given her as a gift last night.
He had on a pair of flannel bottoms of the same print, also a present from his mom. Some traditions one never outgrew. “I’m ready.”
She swung the door open to a blast of cold air. “Look.”
Rubbing his arms to keep warm, he peeked outside. His eyes spread, taking in the landscape. He must still be asleep and dreaming. Louisiana didn’t typically have snow, and never any accumulation to speak of. Especially not on Christmas. But after blinking several times, he admitted his eyes didn’t deceive him.
A solid blanket of crystallized, unblemished, white snow covered the yard, vehicles, and decorations. The porch and street lights cast the perfect amount of light to create the illusion of a modern-day Norman Rockwell painting.
“Isn’t it beautiful? It’s at least three inches.” Janie stared at the scene. Joy and reverence radiated from her.
“Amazing.” Fully awake now from the wonder of a white Christmas, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the beauty. “I’m torn between wanting to be a child and do all the things I never got to, like traipsing around in it, making snowballs, and scooping it up to eat—or preserving the untouched view as long as possible.”
“Can we admire it a little longer before marring it?”
Her contented sigh rendered him powerless to do anything but grant her wish. He slid an arm around her waist, wanting nothing more than to share this ethereal moment in time with his best friend. “The sun will rise soon enough.”
They stood at the door until the first hint of the sun appeared. Even when his leg began to throb from standing too long in one position, he couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t help believing that God had given them the snowfall as a gift to remind them He was in control and that nothing was impossible with Him.
A renewed hope to end the year and begin the next.
The silence came to an end when he heard his mother coming down the steps. He jerked his arm from Janie and put space between them. His mom wasn’t so different from Janie’s. They both read into a
ny action, word, or touch to believe more than friendship existed between them.
“Come see, Mom.” He motioned her to the door. “A Christmas miracle.”
His mom clapped her hands and kept them pressed together when she saw the snow. “Wow. The only other time I ever remember a white Christmas was in eighty-nine, and that was only a dusting.”
“I’m grabbing my phone to take a picture.” Janie ran up the steps.
“Merry Christmas.” Mom kissed his cheek. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“All the time, but it’s never too often.”
“When I think back to this time last year.” She choked on her words and paused. “I’m so thankful you’re here to celebrate with us this year.”
“Me, too.” His own words were hard to form, and he hugged her to express the rest of his sentiments.
“Your dad will be down soon. I’ll get the coffee going.”
After she had left the room, Evan went to the living room and lowered himself to the sofa. The pain today bore down on him, but he wouldn’t let it change his mood.
Janie popped her head around the wall and showed him a picture on her phone. “I sent my mom a picture, and a few seconds later, she sent back one of their eight inches of snow.”
“No competitive personalities in your family, huh?” He stretched his leg over the other two cushions of the sofa.
“Not at all.” Her gaze shifted to his leg. “Bad day?”
“I’ll be fine. Precautionary measures.”
“Where’s your medicine?” She scowled at him, not buying his lie.
“On the nightstand in my room.” No point letting pride steal his enjoyment.
She went upstairs again and returned with a pill and glass of water. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He popped the pill in his mouth and chased it with a swig of water. “Don’t tell Mom, or she’ll worry. I knew better than to stand still for so long, but it was worth it.”