A Wish for Christmas

by Thomas Kinkade

  David picked up a stone and tossed it at the waves. Ben watched it skip twice before it sunk out of view.

  “Where are you going, David? Any idea of that now?”

  David glanced at him, then selected another stone from the sand. “Well, Reverend, here’s the situation. When I left home the first time, after a few years of knocking around, I just wanted to know who I was in the world. I didn’t have any handle on it. So I joined the army. I put on the uniform, I went through my training, I learned to take orders and do what I was told, to be a soldier. And I was a soldier. I was a pretty good one.”

  David took a breath. Ben could tell it was hard for him to explain this insight.

  “Then my squad was hit and I had to come back. Once I took off the uniform, what was left? Not much. I thought I had figured out who I was, but it was just from the outside in, see?”

  Ben nodded quickly. “I do see. I understand completely.”

  “I know now, finally, what I have to do. What I should have done years ago. I need to work from the inside out. Not just put on a uniform—a cop, a firefighter. Maybe it’s even better I won’t end up in a job like that. I don’t want to just playact at something. It’s got to be real. It’s got to come from here,” David said, tapping his chest.

  Ben touched his arm. “You did figure out something important.”

  “I’m trying. I have a ways to go. There are things that happened to me, in country,” he said, meaning in Iraq, Ben knew. “Things that I’ll never forgive myself for, things I’ll never forget. It’s hard to put that behind you. I mean, I’ve seen guys come back fine. I wish I could be that way. I don’t know what they do, how they manage to find that peace of mind, Reverend. How they can just shove it all in a box and put a lid on it.”

  Ben knew what David was trying to say. It was hard to live with himself after being a solider, after fulfilling a soldier’s duties, doing what a soldier had to do just to survive.

  David was turning to him for answers to some of the most challenging moral questions a person might ever ask. Was there any forgivable, acceptable circumstance for taking another human life? Even in self-defense? Even in defense of his country?

  “Do you pray at all, David?” Ben asked.

  “You don’t find a lot of atheists out on the battlefield, Reverend,” he answered with harsh laugh.

  “I’ve heard that before,” Ben said with a nod. “David, there’s not much I can say to help you. Only that I believe God’s love is truly without limits. If we truly repent and ask in sincere prayer, He will bless us with His mercy and forgiveness.” Ben paused, wondering if the little wisdom he offered was getting through.

  “The challenge in this life, David, is to forgive ourselves. Not excuse ourselves,” he went on. “Not brush things aside and deny our actions. But to repent and accept . . . and then forgive.”

  David looked at Ben a moment then back out toward the long, smooth waves rolling into the shoreline.

  “We can’t hold ourselves above God,” Ben added quietly. “If in His wisdom He forgives, who are we to put ourselves above Him and say we know better?”

  David didn’t answer for a moment. He dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket and let out a long, slow breath. “You won’t tell my father I’m out here, will you?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to,” Ben promised. “Are you going back to the inn now?”

  David nodded. “I was headed that way. It’s getting cold out here, and I didn’t bring any gloves.”

  “I’ll walk with you. I can try my fishing rod out later, after I visit with Elizabeth. It looks as though the clouds are burning off a bit,” he said, taking in the patch of blue sky that was beginning to open up ahead. “It might even be nice out here later.”

  “Yes, it looks like it’s going to be a good day after all,” David agreed. “A good first day of the new year.”

  ON MONDAY JACK KNEW IT WAS FINALLY TIME TO CLEAN UP THE TREE stand and start the new year. Julie and Kate had both gone back to school. The holiday and their long vacation were over. He started the day feeding Feathers, cleaning out her stall, and giving her fresh hay. Despite his explanation to Julie, a pony was more work than having a dog—though he would be hard-pressed to ever admit it. Besides, Kate was so thrilled by her new pet, it was worth all the work and then some.

  But even Feathers could not make up for Kate’s sadness over David. Jack hoped that once she started school again and was distracted by her friends, she would start to accept that her stepbrother was gone from her life, as quickly as he had appeared. It was hard for a little girl. It had to be. It was hard for him, too.

  On New Year’s Eve and even on New Year’s Day, Jack had waited and watched for some word from his son. It seemed an appropriate time for David to get in touch and let them know he was all right and where he had ended up this time.

  But there was no word, which had started Jack’s year on a sour note. Julie had tried to comfort him, but she hadn’t said too much. He had a feeling she was wondering how David’s disappearance would impact the baby question. Jack didn’t know, and he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

  Jack worked hard all day, clearing off the tables and piling up the leftover trees and greenery. It would take him a day or more to toss all this stuff in the grinder and make mulch and wood chips out of it. He would keep it on hand for the spring and use it for his landscaping projects.

  By the time Julie and Kate returned home that afternoon, he was beat. Hard work was always his cure-all for emotional troubles. If he exhausted himself, it was hard to feel anything.

  They sat down to an early dinner of leftovers from Christmas Day, the feast David had prepared for them. There had been so much, Julie had put away a full extra dinner in the freezer. It still tasted great, but Jack soon lost his appetite. Another sad reminder, though nobody at the table mentioned it.

  Jack was cleaning up the kitchen and Julie was upstairs giving Kate a bath, when Jack heard a knock on the back door. Before he had time to dry his hands, the door opened.

  “Anybody home?”

  Jack thought he had to be dreaming. He stepped toward the door, as if in a daze. “David . . . for crying out loud. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “Sorry, Dad.” David walked in and shut the door. He came into the kitchen and rested a hand on his father’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t get very far,” he confessed. “Not if you’re counting mileage.”

  David quickly told him how he hitched a ride into the village, had some breakfast at the Clam Box, met the trucker, and wound up on Angel Island.

  “So I rode out there with him and decided to stay. I’m not sure why. But it turned out to be a good idea.”

  Julie and Kate suddenly rushed into the kitchen. “David, where did you come from?” Julie asked, laughing. Jack could tell from her expression how pleased she was to see her stepson.

  She quickly hugged David as Kate claimed the other side of the prodigal son. She climbed on a kitchen chair and practically choked him, slinging her arms around his neck. “David, I love you. If you stay with us, you can have Feathers, okay?”

  David put his arm around Kate and held her close. Jack couldn’t tell if he was crying or laughing. “That’s okay, Kate. You keep Feathers. I’m not going anywhere for a while.”

  EVERY DAY AFTER HE MOVED BACK HOME, DAVID THOUGHT ABOUT calling Christine, but he was sure that her boyfriend was still in town, on his winter break between semesters. David wasn’t entirely ready to face her again. He wanted to take care of a few more things, get some more ducks in a row, so he would have something substantial to tell her. Some proof that he was on the right track now, and it wouldn’t be an act of utter, blind trust to expect him to amount to something in the world.

  But on Friday morning, just after his father had dropped him off in town, there she was. Her totally real, completely beautiful self stood on the sidewalk staring at him. All he could do was stare back. Then she smiled at him an
d he thought it might be all right.

  “Hello, David. You didn’t leave town yet?”

  “Yeah, I did. But I came back,” he explained simply. He could relate the Angel Island adventure another time. “How was your holiday? Did you have a good vacation . . . with your boyfriend?”

  Christine’s smile faded. She looked out at Main Street, watching a bright blue car park in front of the diner.

  “Oh, it’s been all right. Alex and I decided to break up. That made Christmas sort of weird for me, I guess.”

  David’s heart jumped in his chest. “What happened? Did you have a fight or something?”

  “No, nothing like that. We just had some talks and decided things weren’t, you know, right between us. We’re going in different directions or something.” She lifted her chin, finally looking at him again. “It’s all for the best. I know I did the right thing.”

  David nodded. His head was bursting with all the things he wanted to say to her. He swallowed hard, not sure where to begin.

  “So, what’s going on with you?” she asked. “Why did you change your mind about leaving town—or did you just put that off awhile?”

  “I got a new plan. I’m going to stay in town and start school,” he told her. “I met with some counselors at the VA, and I still have time to register for next semester.”

  Christine looked surprised and impressed. “Wow, that’s great. What are you going to study?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I have to take a lot of prereqs to start. I know I like cooking. Maybe I can figure out some way to work that into the plan.”

  She smiled at him, her warm gaze making him feel good all over. “I’m sure you can.”

  There was an awkward pause. David realized if he didn’t speak up, she was going to make some excuse and disappear on him. “Listen, you want to grab some coffee and take a walk or something?”

  She looked surprised at the invitation but nodded. “Okay, sure. I’m not doing anything special today. I just have to return some books to the library.”

  “I have an appointment later to look at some apartments,” he told her. “I’m going to move out of my dad’s house as soon as I find one. They’ve been great, but I need to get out on my own.”

  “I think that would be good for you” she said.

  “Maybe you could look with me? I mean, if you want. It’s always good to have another opinion.”

  “Sure, I’ll come. It would be fun.”

  It would certainly be more fun checking out apartments with her than without her, David was sure of that.

  David bought two cups of coffee for them at the Beanery, which was on the corner of Main Street across from the village green and harbor. They walked across the street and entered the green. Reverend Ben’s church was on the other side of the green, and the sight of it made David think of him and their talk on the island.

  They sat on a bench facing the harbor. There weren’t many boats in the water now. David liked sailing and thought he might get a little day-sailer and keep it here this summer. Christine liked to sail, too. She was a good sailor, he recalled.

  “I have more news, too,” he began. “There’s this operation a doctor told me about, for my leg. They take scar tissue off the muscles where the nerves aren’t working right. It might help, but it might not.”

  “Is it very complicated?”

  “No, they don’t even keep you overnight. But you don’t know right away if it’s helped or not. It takes time.”

  “Oh, I see.” He wondered what she was thinking. He didn’t like reminding her of his disability, but it was important to be honest with her, especially now.

  “Do you think it’s worth a try?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I do. I’m going to do it, probably at the end of the month. Either way, I’m going to start school and get on with my life,” he told her. “It’s funny, it seems like just when I accepted that I wouldn’t be able to walk normally again, I find out about this operation.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” she said. “I mean, now you can deal with it, whether it works out or not.”

  “Yes, I think I can.” He turned to her. “Could you?”

  He waited a breathless moment for her answer, his gaze locked on her expression.

  “David . . . I didn’t care how you came home. As long as you came back. Don’t you get it?”

  David sat back, almost afraid to believe what she had said. “No, I guess I didn’t,” he admitted. “I was thinking too much about how I love you. And how I wasn’t right—I mean with my injuries and all—so how could you want to be with me?” He could see his words had surprised her, too. “I love you more now than I ever did, more than when we were in school. I know I’ve been a mess, but I’m trying to straighten myself out. I just want to be with you. You’re the only one I ever wanted. Do you think you could try again with me, Christine?”

  Christine didn’t answer him. She leaned forward and kissed him instead, her soft hand cradling his cheek.

  “I never stopped trying, David,” she whispered. “I know you have a lot to figure out, a lot to deal with. But I want to be there for you. I want to help you. You’re the reason I broke up with Alex,” she admitted. “I knew I could never marry him. Because I love you.”

  Those were the only words David needed to hear. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight, burying his face in her long hair. Was he crying or laughing? He wasn’t sure. A little of each maybe. He did know that the road ahead was long and would be rough for both of them.

  But now that he had Christine, he could do it. He could do anything.

  EPILOGUE

  IT WAS EZRA’S IDEA TO MARRY ON VALENTINE’S DAY. LILLIAN was initially surprised by the notion. Then appalled.

  “Ezra, you can’t be serious. Oh bother, I think you are.” She appraised his expression across the table. They were in the sunroom at Ezra’s house, where Mrs. Fallon had just served lunch. They had decided that morning to start planning their wedding.

  “We want to be married quickly,” Ezra reminded her. “No need to wait at our age. February fourteenth falls on a weekend and is about a month from now, enough time to get our ducks in a row without dragging it out. A very romantic choice, I might add.”

  “I’ll say. Positively sappy,” Lillian replied. “It might be a dandy choice for a pair of swooning twentysomethings. But people our age?” She shook her head. “Most inappropriate and utterly embarrassing. I won’t be made a laughingstock. People are already talking about us.”

  “When did you ever give a hoot what anyone in this town said about you? No sense starting now,” he advised. “As for the date being inappropriate, I think romance is even more touching and sincere at our age. And rare.”

  Lillian sighed and tried to stare him down. It was no use.

  So this was how it was going to be. Ezra was no pushover. Never had been and in the passing years, he had developed into an even stronger adversary. She could not cow him or win her way that easily. Which was probably why she had always respected him and at least part of the reason she was willing, at this late date, to marry him.

  “Valentine’s Day is the anniversary of a Christian martyr’s burial, you know. The unhappy event was totally misrepresented and commercialized by some silly woman in the 1800s,” she continued, getting in one last shot.

  “I know all about it, another clever hoax of the greeting card companies.”

  He was making fun of her dislike for what she called “trumped-up” holidays.

  “Exactly. National Turnip Day will be next,” she insisted. When he didn’t respond, she added, “I don’t know why we’re debating, Ezra. The church is probably already booked with a wedding on Valentine’s Day. Why, people shallow enough to want it probably reserve the date years ahead.”

  “Very true. Quite likely.” Obviously, it had not occurred to him. Lillian sensed the tide turning her way.

  “More than likely, I’d say. I can almost guarantee it.”

&nbs
p; “Would you? All right, here’s a proposition. If the church is free, we tie the knot on the misrepresented anniversary of the Christian martyr. If it’s booked, you get to choose any date you like.”

  “I accept that offer,” Lillian answered.

  She felt certain of victory, but when she called the church a short time later, she discovered that she had celebrated too soon. The date of Saturday, February fourteenth was free, and Reverend Ben was happy to perform the ceremony.

  Lillian related the news to Ezra with a glum expression.

  “Valentine’s Day, in all its silly, treacle-laden glory, it is,” he said gleefully.

  “So it seems. I hope you’re pleased,” she snapped. “Let’s move on to the rest of the list, shall we?”

  He had won, fair and square. No use arguing about it any longer. Even she could see that. Perhaps this was an omen of things to come, Lillian realized. Perhaps in Ezra she had finally met her match.

  ON THE DAY OF HER WEDDING, LILLIAN SAT AT HER DRESSING TABLE, wondering how she had ended up with a holiday for both of her marriages. Her first marriage, to Oliver Warwick, had taken place on Christmas Eve, 1955. Her family had forbid her to have anything to do with Oliver but he was so charming and determined, he had won her over anyway and persuaded her to elope. They were married in secret, in Boston’s City Hall.

  It seemed odd to Lillian, but on the day of her second marriage, she was thinking quite a bit about the first. She was pleased this time to be married in a church, a simple affair with her family in attendance. Ezra didn’t have many relatives in the area anymore, though he did invite a younger sister, who was a widow now, and some nieces and nephews. He also had a few friends, mainly other retired doctors and their wives, who were happy to attend.

  Lillian did not have any close friends, or even acquaintances, whom she wished to invite. The fact was, she realized, she was marrying her only good friend. The most loyal friend of her life.

  Although she had been shocked by the idea at first, in the days after their engagement, marrying Ezra made more and more sense to her. She was completely resigned to the idea now, even pleased about it. She did love him. Why hadn’t she ever noticed before? What a clever notion for them to be married. Why hadn’t they thought of it sooner?