Shenandoah Christmas

by Lynnette Kent

  The absence of an immediate answer was the answer in itself. "No," she said finally. "I didn't even think about him. I stopped that kind of useless self-torture years ago."

  "Okay, I just wanted to know." Yet another situation that needed to be straightened out once and for all. "So, what's your agenda for today?"

  "Besides spending time with my nephew, I plan to work on props for the pageant. We need gifts for the wise men to carry, and straw for the manger, shepherds' crooks or facsimiles thereof. And a camel."

  "A camel?"

  Cait smiled mischievously. "Keep it a secret, and I'll let you in on my grand scheme for live animals." j

  "A live camel? In the pageant?" The idea was insane. But the excitement in Cait's face made the possibility worth considering. "What else have you got in mind?"

  Even in an indoor mall the size of a small town, shopping on a rainy day wasn't much fun. jj

  Or maybe it was just their combined mood, Ben thought. The kids had been disappointed to wake up and find Cait gone. His explanation that she'd had to hurry back to take care of Miss Anna mollified them only slightly. As for himself—he'd knocked on Cait's door not thirty minutes after they'd separated and discovered her

  missing. Now he wasn't sure which of them he was most angry with—her for leaving, or himself for the stupidity he'd demonstrated last night.

  At noon, as he and the kids stood in the center of the food court trying to choose somewhere to eat, Maddie looked up at him. "Daddy, do we have to stay here?"

  "You want to eat somewhere else?"

  She shook her head. "I want to go home. There's nothing in the stores here we don't have at our stores, and at home it's a lot less crowded, and noisy and—" she wrinkled her nose "—smelly."

  Ben looked at Shep. He would have liked a word of agreement, but would settle for his son's nod. "I'm with you two. Let's go."

  Traffic heading out of D.C. was fairly light, so they made good time. And just as they drove over the last hill, where the low mountains fell away to reveal the winter-brown Shenandoah Valley in all its beauty below them, the sun peeked out of the clouds.

  "Winchester is where Miss Anna had her baby," Ben pointed out as they drove past the city. "In the hospital, of course."

  Maddie sat forward. "Is she still there, Daddy?"

  "Miss Anna's back home. But the baby is too little to leave yet."

  "Can we go see him?"

  "Uh—"

  "Please, oh, please. It would be so neat to see Miss Anna's little boy. Don't you think so?"

  He did think so. Babies were special, whoever they belonged to. "Okay, Maddie. We'll drop in on Goodwill's newest citizen."

  At the wide window of the NICU, he pointed to the incubator labeled Remington. "There he is."

  Maddie stood on tiptoe to peer through the glass. "Oh, wow. He's so little. And all those tubes and wires and machines..." She looked at him anxiously. "Are you sure he's okay?"

  The top of Shep's head just reached the windowsill. Ben picked him up so he could see, too. "I told you, he's very small because he was born earlier than most babies are. The tubes are to help him stay healthy and grow stronger so he can go home to his mom and dad."

  "Maddie! Shep!" Ben turned in unison with Maddie to see Anna hurrying down the hallway toward them. "What a wonderful surprise! Did you see the baby? Isn't he beautiful?" She swept Maddie into a hug. Shep wiggled to be let down, and Anna scooped him in with his sister.

  That left Ben to watch Cait approach. Her chin was up, her eyes defiant...and hurt. She stopped at the opposite side of the window from where he stood. "I didn't realize you planned to come by."

  Which probably meant she wouldn't be here, if she'd known. ' 'A spur-of-the-moment decision as we were passing Winchester. Maddie wanted to see the baby." He closed the distance separating them by half. "Why did you leave?"

  "We missed you for breakfast, Miss Caitlyn." Unaware of the undercurrents, Maddie stepped between them. "And we wanted to go shopping with you. But it wasn't much fun so we came home anyway. And now we're all here." j

  Cait's face smoothed into a smile. "I was worried about Anna, so I hurried back. What do you think of my nephew? Pretty handsome, isn't he?" |

  "But what's his name?" I

  Anna came to stand with them. "What do you think his name should be?"

  Screwing up her face, Maddie thought hard. "Christopher," she pronounced after a minute. "Because it's almost Christmas. We can call him Chris." Standing next to Anna, Shep nodded his agreement.

  "Christopher Remington." Anna stared through the window at the incubator and its tiny occupant. "You know, Maddie, I think that's perfect."

  Remembering the problems Cait had told him about, Ben wasn't sure David would be pleased to have the decision of his son's name made without him. "Where's Pastor Dave this afternoon?"

  "He's parking the car," Anna said, "after letting us off at the door. He should be here any second. I'm going to see if they'll let me talk to Christopher for a few minutes. Y'all stay and watch, okay?"

  Cait wanted to protest, No, don't leave me alone here with them! Being with Maddie and Shep and Ben was like looking through the window at a doll she wanted for Christmas and knew she wouldn't receive.

  Anna, of course, didn't hear her silent plea. But just a minute after she disappeared, the sound of hurried footsteps announced David's arrival. For the first time in several weeks, Cait was actually glad to see him.

  "Guess what?" Maddie ran to meet him. "We found a name for your baby. Christopher. Do you like it?"

  David stopped in his tracks. Emotions played over his face—anger, shame, relief. He laid a gentle hand on Mad-die's shoulder. "You know, that sounds like a good name. What did Miss Anna think?" He came to the window just as Anna approached the incubator. Wearing a surgical cap and gown, even a mask and shoe covers, she was identifiable only by her red bangs and shining brown eyes.

  Maddie came to the window, pressed her nose against the glass. "Why's she dressed so funny?"

  Ben picked up Shep again and they all watched as Anna stroked her fingers down the baby's back. His eyes opened, and he turned his head slightly toward his mother.

  "You know how we talked about germs when you had the flu?" Maddie nodded up at her dad. "Well, the doctors and nurses want to keep the babies as safe as possible. So they cover their clothes and shoes and hair, because those are places germs might land, and cover their mouths and noses so they won't breathe germs onto the babies."

  The little girl shook her head. "Seems sad, not to be able to just hold him and kiss him. I bet he needs to know people love him right now." 1

  Cait saw David's hands clench as they rested on the windowsill. "I'll bet you're right," he told Maddie, his voice hoarse. "Will y'all excuse me for a minute?" I

  He reappeared momentarily beside Anna, wearing the same outfit. She looked up quickly; even without seeing most of her face, Cait knew her sister was smiling. David reached out and touched the baby's cheek with one finger.

  Cait turned and walked away from the window, blinking back tears. i

  Ben and Maddie and Shep left soon after that. There was no time for personal conversation, thank goodness, just a serious stare from Ben. "I'll call you," he said. 1

  She stared down the hallway long after he and the kids had disappeared.

  I'll call you.

  Was that a promise...or a threat?

  Harry wasn't sure what the protocol for marriage counseling would be. Should the couple arrive separately, or in the same car? What did they say to each other the day

  i

  of the appointment? Or should they save all their comments for the session?

  He and Peg went to church together on Sunday morning, as usual. Garlands of pine framed the doors, and boxwood wreaths with red velvet bows hung in the windows. The evergreen scents and the tang of candle smoke brought images of Christmases past—Valerie as a teenager, singing carols from memory; as a ten-year-old speaking the part o
f the announcing angel in the pageant; as a five-year-old falling asleep during the midnight service on Christmas Eve.

  And always Peg there beside him, to share smiles of pride and joy and love. Was that sharing over? Had he destroyed his marriage completely?

  After the service, they went to lunch with Ben and the grandkids, which filled the time until two o'clock. Harry couldn't think of anything to say on the drive back to the church, and Peg didn't interrupt the silence. She didn't wait for him to open her car door, either, or look behind to see if he followed her to the office entrance.

  Knowing he deserved to be ignored, but not liking it in the least, Harry tightened his jaw and determined to participate in this meeting.

  David was waiting for them. "Hi, Peggy, Harry. Come on in." Harry waited for Peggy to choose one of the red velvet-covered chairs and sit down before he took the other. Just because he was a jerk didn't mean he couldn't be polite.

  "So, what's this all about?" David sat back in his chair, making a tent of his fingers, looking from one of them to the other and back again.

  When Harry glanced at Peg, she was staring out the window at the sunny, bitterly cold afternoon. She'd made

  the appointment. She should be the one to start talking. But minutes passed, and she didn't say a word.

  David looked at Harry, waiting. "I...retired,'' Harry said, finally. "Actually, the company forced me to retire. And I didn't like it. I wasn't ready."

  The minister nodded. "That's a very hard verdict to accept, that the company doesn't want you anymore."

  "It was." Harry looked down at his hands. "I guess I let it eat at me."

  "In what way?"

  Thinking back, Harry reviewed what he'd done, how he'd felt, and tried to explain some of it. He looked over at David, now and then, finding nothing but concerned concentration in the younger man's face. No pity, no blame. Stumbling over the situation with Peggy—the way he'd avoided talking to her, his...failure...as her lover— Harry expected reassurances, condescension. David just listened.

  The afternoon was getting dark when he finally ran out of things to say. David reached across the desk and turned on a low light. For the first time, Harry noticed that Peggy was watching him.

  "You didn't have to be alone," she said softly. "I was there." J

  Harry closed his eyes. "I know. But at first I thought I had to handle it by myself. Then after a while, I couldn't... I don't know... connect. There was me, and there was everybody else, and no way to get through the wall between us." He shrugged. "I'm too old for a midlife crisis. I guess you could call this senility." 1

  "No, you call this depression." David came around to the front of his desk, leaned back against the edge. ' 'Happens to a lot executives who have the world on a string

  one day and are out on the pavement twenty-four hours later."

  Harry didn't like the D word. "So now I guess you're going to send me to a shrink for some pill that'll make it all right again."

  "Medication is one possibility. Or you could talk to me, to Peggy... use the opportunity to say what you think about what happened to you."

  "That's easy. I was royally pissed." He thought for a minute. "Still am. What kind of company takes thirty-five years of a man's life and then dumps him like a trash can?" Suddenly, he couldn't stop talking. All his anger just poured out....

  When David got up to switch on another, brighter, lamp, Harry realized he'd been ranting for too long. "Sorry. I knew once I got started, I'd have a hard time shutting up again."

  The minister nodded. ' 'Exactly. You needed to say all that, and a lot more besides. So why don't you come back next Sunday, same time, and talk about it again? Peggy, you're welcome, too, of course. And if either of you need a sounding board during the week, you can call. Okay?"

  Feeling about twenty pounds lighter, Harry got to his feet and reached for David's hand. "Okay. Thanks for— for listening. For being here."

  Peggy came over and claimed her own handshake. "You're wonderful. I knew you would be."

  The minister's smile was warm, but faded very quickly. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Now, it's my turn."

  Harry raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

  David nodded. "I can't do this anymore." He looked at Peggy. "Would you excuse us for a few minutes? I'll try not to keep him long."

  »>

  "Of course. I'll wait in the outer room.

  But Harry caught up with her at the door and followed her out into the front office. "You go on home," he said, handing her the car keys. "I can get David to drop me off."

  She nodded, her gaze lowered.

  He put his hand on her shoulder. "Peg. I'm so sorry."

  Her eyes squeezed shut, and a tear slipped out.

  Harry's throat had closed up. "When I get home, we'll talk." He bent his head to look into her face. "Or something."

  His reward was her sweet, forgiving smile. "Or something," she agreed.

  He claimed a quick kiss, felt the familiar jump of excitement in his blood. "See you soon." Peg nodded, blushed and backed through the outside door. Harry watched her get into the car, saw the headlights flare against the bare trees.

  Then he turned and went back into the study to take his velvet seat again. "Okay, Pastor, what are you planning to do?"

  His face pale, his high forehead beaded with sweat, David Remington swallowed hard. ' 'I think I have to confess."

  Waiting through the long Sunday evening, Anna had finally fallen asleep on the couch in the living room. She woke immediately at the sound of the kitchen door closing, the click of the lock. "David?"

  As she sat up, she heard his slow footsteps coming down the hall. He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. "What are you doing still awake?"

  She'd turned off the lamps and left the tree lights on; in the dimness she couldn't read his face. "Waiting for

  you, of course. Why are you so late? What did Harry say?"

  David sat at the opposite end of the sofa, slouching down to rest his head against the back. "We've called an emergency meeting of the church committee. I've been on the telephone with each member, explaining the situation. They're all upset, of course. Timothy was so appalled, he couldn't say a word." He sighed. "So...I've got one more week. If I don't come up with an answer, the committee will turn the problem over to the police. And then the whole town will know." He rubbed his fingers into his eyes. "How could I have botched things so badly?"

  "It's been a very difficult autumn."

  "Yeah." He turned his head to look at her. "How's Christopher today?"

  1 'They took out the breathing tube for a little while. He did okay for a few minutes, but then his oxygen level dropped, so they put it in again." She blinked back tears, thinking about her five minutes of hope. Christopher wouldn't come home until he could breathe on his own. "They say that's not too bad for a first time, though, and he's really doing pretty well."

  "I wish I could have gone with you." David sighed. "But Harry needed some encouragement in talking about his situation. He was punishing himself, trying to keep his feelings about his retirement all locked up."

  "Poor Peggy. It seems to be a male characteristic, not sharing problems."

  He chuckled wearily. "Don't women prefer the strong, silent type?"

  Anna risked moving nearer to him. Not touching—but close enough to be touched. ' 'Women prefer being given the chance to help the men they love get through the hard

  times. Just as they want the men they love to help them when they're struggling. That's part of what being married is about. Isn't it?"

  David looked away from her face, toward the Christmas tree. "I haven't done very well on that score. Lately, especially." Almost as if he didn't realize what he'd done, he put his left hand on her knee. His wedding ring glinted in the twinkling lights. "I was just so...scared."

  "And that's hard to admit, when you're supposed to be the one with all the faith." She held her breath, wondering if she'd pushed too hard this ti
me.

  But he turned to stare at her, his eyes wide. ' 'Exactly. How did you know?"

  Anna put her hand over his. "It's not that much different, being the minister's wife. I feel like I always have to be at peace, always certain that all will be well." She shook her head. "I haven't felt like that since we lost the first baby. I don't know if I'll ever feel quite safe again. With a child, there's always something to worry about."

  Shifting on the couch to face her, David laid his palm along her cheek. "We haven't talked enough since then, have we?" j

  ' 'Perhaps we let ourselves get busier and busier so we wouldn't have to think about it." She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his skin against hers. j

  "Could be." His kiss took her by surprise, a taste she'd been craving. "Anna, I'm sorry. So sorry." He skimmed his lips over her eyelids, her forehead, then returned to her mouth. j

  She would have said many things...but David didn't give her the chance. Not for a long time. They lay together in the gentle light of the blue-and-silver Christmas tree, relearning their own language of touches and sighs and deep, shuddering breaths. Complete intimacy wasn't pos-

  sible so soon after the baby, but by the time Anna fell asleep in her husband's arms, they had begun to regain the union of their hearts and souls.

  Whatever happened in the next week, they would face the challenge together.

  "I can't even make love to my wife. What kind of man does that make me?"

  1 'The same man you were before you went to work that last Monday morning. Only now you've got more free time."

  He shook his head. The talk with David should have straightened him out. Working on the church financial records for five hours tonight—without finding the problem—had left him a little tired, kind of stiff, but he'd looked forward to getting home to his beautiful wife. They'd shared a glass of wine, and he'd taken her to bed, and... nothing.

  The beer taste in his mouth turned flat, metallic. After pouring the rest of the bottle down the sink, he walked into the dining room to stare out the front window. His face heated with embarrassment as he thought over the last hour. Impotent. Mentally, emotionally, physically impotent. He would never have imagined feeling this way.