Caleb's Christmas Wish

by Debra Salonen

  “Wow,” she said with a little wink. “That’s the best cop-out yet. Wish I’d thought of it.”

  Her grin told him she was teasing. And oddly, he didn’t feel quite as depressed as he had a few minutes earlier.

  Allison stooped to pick up Cleo, who lingered beside Caleb’s door but had yet to venture inside the little boy’s bedroom. Rom had no such reservations. He’d attached himself to the child in a complete reversal of attitude from the first time she introduced her cats to her godson. Ally didn’t know why the change of heart, but she was grateful for it.

  “Why are you still so standoffish?” she asked, nuzzling the large cat’s tattered right ear. Cleo and Rom were both foundlings—abandoned pets who’d adopted her.

  Allison continued to pet the cat a moment before heading to her room, but the sound of voices caught her attention. She stepped closer to the doorway and saw Jake sitting on the edge of the race-car bed—one hand brushing back Caleb’s errant cowlick.

  “Jake, is Gramma gonna die?”

  Allison’s heart stopped.

  “No, Caleb. You saw her today. She looked good, didn’t she?”

  Caleb made a face.

  “Well, maybe not as good as you’re used to seeing her, but she’s been sick. Her heart had a problem and the doctors fixed it.”

  “How come the doctors couldn’t fix Mommy’s heart?”

  Allison squeezed Cleo a bit too hard and got a warning bite on the hand. She put the animal down and grabbed the wooden frame of the door instead. She could tell that Jake was searching for the right answer. “I don’t know, kiddo. I’m sure they tried.”

  Caleb gnawed on his cuticle—a new habit that alternated with thumb-sucking. “Bradley said people die in the hosp’tal.”

  Jake frowned. “Well, I was at a baseball game last summer and a man who was sitting a few rows over from me had a real bad asthma attack. That means he couldn’t breathe. The paramedics came—just like they did when your grandmother needed help. They took him to the hospital and I saw him back in his seat a few games later. Hospitals and doctors fix a lot of people.”

  Caleb took a moment to consider the idea, and then nodded.

  “Jake, why did Daddy die?”

  Allison’s stomach clenched. When her grandfather passed away last summer, people shook her hand and said, “It was his time.” “He’s in a better place.” “He won’t suffer any more.” The platitudes seemed appropriate, but none of those applied to Kenny.

  “I don’t know, buddy. I wish I did. As far as I’m concerned, there isn’t one good reason why they’re gone. But no matter how much we want it to be different, we can’t change what happened. Do you understand?”

  Caleb nodded again.

  But Allison knew he didn’t. How could a child make sense of something that even adults found unfathomable? She suddenly understood why people spouted platitudes at times like this. A little comfort was better than nothing.

  Chapter 7

  “This was a good idea,” Jake said, joining Allison on the park bench facing the public playground. A six-foot tall, impossibly bright orange plastic fish provided a climbing obstacle to the second level of the jungle gym from which Caleb sped down a spiral slide with a loud “Whee.”

  They’d left the cemetery a few minutes earlier, Allison behind the wheel. To his surprise, she’d cut across traffic to the opposite side of the highway and parked in an unpaved lot adjacent to the county library. “How ’bout we stop at the park for a while, Caleb?” she’d asked the little boy who had a somewhat dazed look on his face.

  Her suggestion had earned a half smile, and by the time they’d crossed the wooden footbridge to the park, an open grassy area with an impressive view of the surrounding mountains, he’d perked up considerably.

  “It never would have occurred to me to stop and let Caleb race off some of that pent-up energy,” Jake said, hunching forward. His suit coat wasn’t the best protection for the wind that seemed to come straight off the white capped peaks he could see in the distance. “I’m glad you suggested it.”

  “He was getting pretty antsy by the end of the service,” she said, her tone flat. “And then the interment...” Her voice disappeared, and Jake understood completely.

  Two graves. Side by side. The earth hard and cold. Six or more tripods supported huge sprays of flowers—unnaturally bright against the winter landscape. The cemetery, located on a knoll in the heart of the community, was dotted with stately pines, but the many oaks and other deciduous trees were stark, leafless silhouettes against a pewter sky. As the minister voiced the last goodbyes, traffic sounds—horns honking, engines revving—provided a dose of reality. Life did go on.

  Jake looked at Allison sitting beside him on the plastic-coated metal mesh bench. Her hands were pushed deep in the pockets of her black wool coat. A multi-colored knitted scarf looped around her neck provided enough of a cowl that she could shelter her nose but still keep an eye on Caleb.

  “I’m so glad that’s over,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure I’d get through it.” He kept his voice low.

  She nodded but didn’t look at him. “By the time we got to the cemetery, I was too numb to think. The music and that video did me in,” she said, giving him a sideways, thanks-for-nothing frown.

  Jake settled one ankle on his knee. A gust of dampish air shot past his sock and made him shiver. “Hey, that wasn’t my idea,” he said, sounding far more defensive than was necessary. “The guys from the band handed me the DVD. I just gave it to the music director.”

  Although Kenny’s band had broken up shortly after he’d left the group, two former members of Criminally Insane had remained in touch with Kenny and Pam over the years. Both had arrived early that morning from southern California and had presented Jake with a video collage set to a few of the group’s mellower songs.

  “They must have worked day and night to get it done in time,” Allison said, sounding less put out. “I know Caleb will treasure it someday.”

  The images had shown a much younger, more devil- may-care side of their friends. Jake had lived through those wild years with Kenny, and he’d known Pam, too, after she’d impulsively dropped out of college to travel with Kenny. Her parents had been against the relationship from day one, but that hadn’t kept the two young lovers apart.

  “I just wish someone had warned me,” Allison said with a sigh. “I think my crying upset Caleb.”

  Jake looked at the little boy in question. He was about ten yards away scaling a wall embedded with projecting footholds.

  “Caleb,” Allison called, sitting forward. “Are you sure you should be climbing that?” To Jake she said, “It looks dangerous and he doesn’t have his sneakers on.”

  As Jake watched, the boy scrambled hand-over-hand up the five-foot tall challenge like a veteran rock climber. “Way to go, Caleb,” he called, applauding.

  Allison let out the breath she’d been holding. Her concern was touching, but Jake worried that her fears might be limiting to his godson in the long run. He kept his opinion to himself. Just as he hadn’t said anything when Kenny had fretted that Pam was too lax with Caleb.

  Caleb slid down the slide again—headfirst this time, winding up on his belly in the tan-colored sand. Allison groaned softly. “His suit.”

  Jake shrugged. “He’s almost outgrown it. Might as well let him play.”

  Caleb started running in his choppy, stiff-legged gait, toward a four-seated teeter-totter on springs. The molded yellow seats and handholds resembled a headless duck. “Watch me, Jake,” Caleb cried, kicking up sand as he ran.

  Two other youngsters—boys, one a couple of years older than Caleb and the second a bit younger, were already seated opposite each other. The pair wore sweats, athletic shoes and down coats that looked far cozier than what Caleb was wearing.

  “Do you think he’s warm enough?” Allison asked. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. I should have brought play clothes.”

  Jake let out an exasperated
breath. “Will you quit second-guessing yourself? He’s hopping around like a cricket on speed. He’s warm. We’re cold because we’re sitting still.”

  She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t take her eyes off her godson as he interacted with the other children. The two children continued bouncing on the contraption as Caleb boldly climbed aboard and started rocking back and forth with a frenzied zeal.

  Allison let out a long, heartfelt sigh and sank back against the metal bench. “I feel like Wile E. Coyote when he chases Road Runner off a cliff and finds himself standing in midair, waiting to fall,” she said. “Are we going to hit bottom soon?”

  Jake gave his head a little shake. She had a habit of putting his feelings into words. It bothered him.

  “I lost track of how many people came up to me today and said, ‘Now the healing can begin.’ How do they know this?” she asked, her tone bitter. “Because I’m sure not feeling it.”

  Jake had heard the same rhetoric when Phillip died. “He’s in a better place,” people would say. Screw that, Jake remembered thinking, if I have to stick around this lousy world, then Phillip sure the hell should, too.

  She turned her chin to look at him. “Is it me or has Caleb gotten progressively more belligerent all week?”

  “Gayle says it’s natural for a child his age to act out,” Jake said.

  “Acting out. I’ve heard that expression a dozen times—first from my mother and sisters, and then from the articles I’ve read online. But what does it mean, exactly? Should we send him to preschool on Monday or not? What if he whacks another kid with a toy?”

  She shifted sideways to face him. Her eyes were reddened from crying, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold, hair tousled about her forehead and ears. Despite nearly a week of contact, Jake couldn’t remember sitting this close to her before. But it felt natural, somehow.

  “I hope this doesn’t make me sound as if I’m overreacting,” she said in a hushed tone, “but I think we should take Caleb to see a grief therapist before we send him back to school.”

  Her near-whisper had brought him closer, but her opinion wasn’t anything he wanted to think about. The counselors from his youth had been overworked and impotent when it came to helping him or his brother. “I don’t agree. I think he’s doing pretty well.”

  She swallowed. “I promised him I wouldn’t tell you, but...he...wet the bed last night.” She checked to make sure the subject of their conversation was out of range. “He’s very embarrassed. And I don’t think he needs another source of stress at the moment.”

  Jake wondered if talking to a counselor after his brother’s death would have disarmed some of the animosity he felt toward his father. Before he could speak, Caleb called out, “Jake, push me on the swing.”

  Jake stood and extended a hand to Allison. Her fingers were like Popsicles. Without thinking, he briskly chafed them between his palms. “You’re not dressed for this. We should go.”

  She stood still as a statue watching him warm her hands. Suddenly, she stepped back. “No. You go play with him. I’ll wait in the car with the heater on. Caleb shouldn’t miss out because I’m wearing a dress.”

  She turned on one heel and walked unsteadily across the grassy strip leading to the bridge. From the back, she looked less like a mourner than an elegantly dressed woman ready for a dinner date. Her calves and ankles could have belonged to a model. I wonder what she’d look like in a bikini, Jake thought before he could stop himself.

  The totally inappropriate line of thinking shook Jake. He was known for his ability to stay focused. Relationships were pleasant interludes he allowed in his life when time permitted. This was not the time.

  He jogged the last few feet to where his godson was standing. “Push me,” Caleb demanded, pointing to a swing, which by that time was occupied. Another group of children of varying ages had arrived with their parents.

  “There’s an empty one over here,” Jake said, placing his hand on the top of Caleb’s head.

  Caleb crossed his arms at his chest and shook his head. “No,” he said stubbornly. “Those are baby swings. I’m not a baby.”

  Jake lowered his hand to the boy’s shoulder when Caleb started to walk toward the swing, obviously intending to knock the other child off. Jake tightened his grip a bit, and to his complete shock, Caleb twisted just enough to lean down and bite his hand. Hard.

  “Ouch. Son of a...gun.” Jake caught the curse in time. “You bit me.”

  The other child slipped off the swing and ran toward the orange fish jungle gym. Caleb ignored Jake and climbed up on the plastic plank. “Push. Push,” he demanded.

  Jake stared at the imprint of small, sharp teeth on his skin. No blood, but the mark made it clear this was no accident. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the front of the swing to face Caleb. He grabbed the ice-cold links of chain and lowered himself to one knee.

  Eyes level with his godson, Jake said, “Caleb, you bit me. That was wrong. We don’t bite people.”

  The belligerent look in Caleb’s eyes dissolved into tears. His bottom lip popped out, and he started to cry so hard he nearly toppled off the swing.

  Jake swept him into his arms and rose. “It’s okay, buddy. I’m not mad, but I want you to promise you won’t do that again. My skin is tough, but if you chomp down on someone else, like Allison or Bradley, you’ll hurt them. A person doesn’t go around biting people just to get their way.”

  “But...but...” Whatever he wanted to say was lost in brokenhearted sobs and Jake knew it was time to go home.

  As soon as he turned toward the car, Caleb let out a loud wail and tried to throw himself from Jake’s arms. “Swing. Swing. You p...p...promised.”

  Jake tightened his hold and walked faster. He could feel the other parents looking his way. “We’ll come back tomorrow if the weather is clear. It’s been a long day and we’re all tired. And we have to check on the cats to see if they’re okay. We’ve been gone a long time.”

  Allison waited in the car, the heater on full blast. She was pretty sure she’d never been more exhausted in her life. Her shoulders ached. Her hips hurt from sitting in the church pew. Her toes throbbed from the shiny black shoes that she’d never really liked.

  Each was minor compared to the pain in her chest. It had started the moment she’d walked into the church and seen the two caskets bedecked with flowers. It had increased when the minister, an elegant woman with long silver hair and a warm smile, had spoken of God’s plan for Kenny and Pam. But the worst moment came when the lights dimmed and a screen lowered from the ceiling so the audience could watch a video of the young couple, so much in love you could almost touch the emotion.

  She’d been helpless to prevent the wracking sobs that seemed to come from the bottom of her soul. Then Caleb, who’d been sitting between her and Jake, crawled up on her lap. The look of worry on his face had forced her to stifle her sobs, but the pain had stayed.

  Resting her head against the seat, she wondered how much of today Caleb would remember. So many glowing tributes were made about two people he would never really know. Maybe my goal should be to make sure Caleb never forgets the amazing people who gave him life.

  She was considering how she would do this when she spotted Jake and Caleb walking toward the car.

  Caleb looked upset. Jake, too. “What happened?” she asked. But Caleb simply hid his face against Jake’s jacket.

  “I’ll tell you when we get home,” Jake said softly.

  “Oh, no,” Allison said, a short while later as the car pulled into the cul-de-sac. Four other vehicles were parked in front of the Rydell home—Gayle’s in the lead. “I thought you made it clear that we were in no condition to socialize.”

  “I guess she didn’t catch my hint,” Jake muttered as they parked in the garage beside Pam’s car.

  “Hint?” Allison asked. “I believe the exact phrase was ‘Now is not a good time, Gayle.’ I could have kissed you for that.”

  She’d spoken in jest, bu
t the way he turned his chin sharply to look at her made Allison regret her quip. Quickly exiting the close space, she retrieved her purse and Caleb’s tote bag from behind her seat. The boy was fast asleep. Dirty smudges from dried tears mixed with dust made his cheeks look bruised. His nose was crusty. “I hate to wake him up, but he needs a bath.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Jake said opening the passenger door. “He and I can use the time to talk about inappropriate behavior,” he said cryptically.

  Before unsnapping the safety harness, he looked at her and said, “I’ve changed my mind. I think we should make an appointment with a counselor, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to the neighbors.”

  Allison shut the door with more force than needed. “You don’t need to tell me that. Caleb’s problems are a family matter.”

  He picked up the boy, who drooped like a rolled-up rug across his shoulder, then closed his door soundly, too. Allison’s brief burst of temper faded as quickly as it materialized, leaving her drained. She looked at Jake carrying Caleb’s dead weight as if it were nothing and knew without a doubt she couldn’t manage to care for the little boy alone. Thank God Jake had agreed to stick around until Cordelia was released from the hospital.

  She passed Caleb’s tote bag to Jake as he slipped into the hallway leading to the bedroom wing. Bracing herself, Allison followed the sound of women’s voices. She found the five friends—each with a wineglass and a stack of unopened envelopes in front of them—grouped around the dining table. The overhead chandelier cast a falsely cheerful glow.

  “Hi,” she said, noticing the piles of discarded envelopes on the floor.

  “Ally,” Gayle cried. “We were starting to worry. Come join the Thank-You crew. There are plenty of cards to go around if you want to pull up a chair. Pam and Kenny were obviously well loved.”

  Allison had planned to tackle this chore over time, maybe after the holidays. “Are you making some kind of master list?” she asked, grateful for the help but at the same time irritated. Sometimes Gayle was just too perky. Apparently she wasn’t the type to wallow in her grief as Allison wanted to do.