Shenandoah Christmas

by Lynnette Kent

  He'd never imagined getting pushed out of his job.

  A clink of china and a rustle of cloth announced Peg's arrival. He didn't turn around. Couldn't face her.

  "Have some tea." She stood next to him, holding out a holly-decorated mug. With a sigh, Harry took the tea. The appropriate drink for useless old men.

  Beside him, Peg took a deep breath. "Harry, do you love me?"

  She shouldn't have to ask. "I've loved you every day since we were nineteen years old." Why?"

  Because you're...Peggy." 'What does that mean?"

  He closed his eyes, searching for words. "It means...you listen to me, you laugh with me, you argue about books and movies with me. You gave me a beau-

  tiful daughter and we brought her up to be a beautiful woman. You cried with me when she died. You—" he lifted a hand "—you're the other half of my self."

  "Why don't you trust me to feel the same?"

  The question knocked the breath out of him. This wasn't about trust...was it?

  "For better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, Harry. You're a good provider, and there may never be a poor part. One day, though, there will be sickness for one or both of us. Do we just turn away from each other, then? Are you willing to let me go through old age alone?"

  "No!"

  "Then you have to allow me to be a part of what's happening now. You have to trust me enough to believe that it doesn't matter if you have a job or not. I didn't marry you because you made a good salary. I didn't marry you because you could give me a nice house, a new car, and take care of them with your own hands. Or because you were the vice president of a company. I married you because—because you're Harry."

  He squeezed his eyes shut.

  Peg curled her hands around his arm, leaned her cheek against his shoulder. "I don't value you for your income, your intelligence, your caring and concern, not even for your body and your wonderful ability to take me out of myself when we make love. If all those things disappeared tomorrow, I would still love what you are. The other half of me."

  "Peg." He put his mug on the windowsill, sloshing tea, and turned to take her in his arms. "Hold me, Peggy. Hold i on to me." 1

  She did as he asked, her arms tight around him as they stood in front of the window in the dark.

  i

  Wednesday, the pageant started coming together. Ben and his crew set up the backdrop panels—the road to Bethlehem, the stable in the inn, the hills and fields where sheep grazed—arranged on a track to slide easily from side to side. The props were ready—Ben's manger was a rough wooden trough on legs, perfect for holding hay... and a newborn child.

  There were problems, of course. The shepherds tended to duel with their crooks, the wise men couldn't keep their crowns on their heads, and Shep and Neil were still wrestling.

  But the music sounded good. The kids knew where they were supposed to be and what they should say. The rehearsal went so smoothly, Cait almost wondered if a dress rehearsal on Saturday would be overkill.

  She broached the subject with Anna, who had watched from the first pew. "I don't think so," her sister said. "When they put their costumes on, they'll lose focus. The little ones have to get used to their animal headdresses, and everybody will be silly at first, walking around in bath robes. You need that Saturday practice."

  "Or," Cait said, as the kids started leaving, each of them stopping to talk with Anna on the way out, ' 'maybe you need that Saturday practice."

  Anna gave the last of the kids a goodbye hug, then turned back to Cait. ' 'What are you talking about?''

  "You could take over the pageant." She kept her eyes on the books of music she was sorting.

  "Why should I?" Anna's voice wavered. "This is your program."

  Cait shrugged, trying to seem casual. "I'm just thinking—you're feeling pretty well, getting around okay. We're talking about one two-hour rehearsal and the pageant itself. These are your kids, it's your church. Now that

  you're able, don't you want to be involved? I think everybody in town would be happy to have you back."

  "Or," Ben said, striding down the aisle, "are you simply trying to dig up a reason to run away?"

  She jumped, then had to juggle quickly to keep from dropping the folders. "I thought everybody was gone."

  "I imagine you did." He stood in front of her, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm pretty sure you didn't expect to have to defend your decision to me."

  "It's not a decision. I was just offering Anna the chance—''

  He looked at Anna. "Is that what you heard?"

  Anna shook her head. "I heard her resigning from the pageant, expecting me to take over."

  "See?" Ben was staring at Cait again. "Your sister and I heard the same thing."

  She placed the folders in their box. "I fail to see why this is such a bad idea. I'm just the substitute choir director."

  "And the author of the program, the composer of a couple of the songs. You have a stake in this pageant."

  "I came here to help my sister until her baby was born. He's here now, and Anna's feeling pretty good. Why is it so unreasonable for her to take back her responsibilities?" Pulling in a deep breath, she picked up the box of folders and headed for the robe room to put them away. "And for me to go back to mine. I have a career, you know. Commitments." !

  "A career you're hiding behind to avoid a real life." Ben followed her and blocked the door to the church so she couldn't get out again. "You can make an audience feel passion and pain, love and longing, joy and deep sorrow...but you don't have to take responsibility for the

  feelings you create. You choose an upbeat tune for the final number and walk away."

  She kept her gaze away from his face. "T-that's my...job. It's what I'm good at."

  "Granted. But you need to remember that this isn't a performance. This is real." He caught her chin in his fingers, forced her to look up at him. "You're trying to pull the same disappearing trick with me. With my kids. With all the people in this town who depend on you. And you know who will be hurt the most by what you're doing? It won't be the rest of us you leave behind. We still have each other.

  "The person who will suffer is you."

  Cait blinked tears out of her eyes. "Well, that's my problem, isn't it? Besides, you're the one who said I wouldn't be able to sacrifice the career for you. I'm just proving you right."

  "I don't want to be right, dammit." His hands came down on her shoulders. "I want to give you what you've been missing all these years—the chance to live life, not just sing about it."

  He was too close, too persuasive. "Who are you to pass judgment on what I do or don't do?"

  "The man who loves you. The man who doesn't want to see you isolate yourself from everyone who cares about you."

  She backed out of his grasp. "I've come up against this kind of caring before. 'Do it my way.' 'I'll love you as long as you let me call the shots.'" I never said that."

  Ben, you said exactly that. You said you'd marry me if you could be sure I didn't hurt you or Maddie or Shep— meaning that I have to guarantee the career won't interfere with what you think matters."

  i t-

  t c

  He passed a palm over his face. "I didn't mean that, actually. I was mad."

  "But the career is me. It's not something I can just throw away—it's what I am. Singer, songwriter, performer. If you can't accept that, deal with it, recognize that at some points the music and the career will come first..." She shrugged.

  Hands in his pockets, Ben stared at the floor for a long minute. "Okay," he said, lifting his head. "But why this week? Why does the career have to win now? Why won't you stay and see this—this project all the way through? What are you afraid of?"

  Good question. Cait held his gaze, searching for the answer. She got only images—Anna and David leaning over Christopher's incubator, wonder and joy and worry on their faces; Shep and Maddie curled up in bed like sweet, sleeping cherubs; Ben...the sound of his laugh,
the taste of his mouth, the way he could swing her mood from sober to joyous with just a smile. Or drive her to despair simply by turning away. She hadn't been at anyone's mercy like this in a long time. Ten years, to be exact.

  She'd run away then, been running ever since.

  Maybe the time had arrived, finally, to find out what would happen if she stopped.

  "You've made your point," she told Ben. "I'll stay until Christmas." She sighed, but then managed a rueful smile. "I suppose we grinches have to stick together."

  "Ah, revenge is sweet." His grin was confident, even cocky. "I told you I'd get you back for dragging me into this predicament in the first place!"

  Anna was absolutely correct about the Saturday afternoon rehearsal. Put the kids in their costumes and every

  line, every song they'd learned went right out of their heads.

  Ben watched with a grin as assorted mothers, Anna, David and Cait herded the cast of the pageant into their places on the stage. Staring up at Cait from the front, the youngest children wore hoods resembling different animals—sheep, cows, donkeys, doves. Behind them sat the angels in white robes, silver-sprinkled wings and gold filigree haloes. To the left, the adolescent shepherds looked about as rugged as their prototypes would have, in bare or sandaled feet, rough robes and various styles of headdress. On the other side, the wise men and their servants shone like jewels in their purple, red and gold costumes.

  Cait held up both hands and, miraculously, got everyone's attention. "We're going to start at the end of the pageant, work backward to the beginning. Then we'll break for pizza and drinks, come back and go straight through. Got it?"

  The assembled kids nodded.

  "Okay." Hands on her hips, she took a deep breath. "We have Mary, Joseph and manger, shepherds, wise men and servants in front of the stable backdrop, announcing angels one on either side, angel choir and animals in front. Find your places."

  The kids scrambled, and Anna went to the organ. She would play the accompaniment while Cait directed the songs. Ben was glad to see the new mother looking happier, more rested than she'd been in months. Baby Christopher had made it through his first week of life in great form, even gained a couple of ounces. He'd been off the breathing tube for up to thirty minutes at a time. Soon, they hoped, the tube wouldn't have to be replaced. | "What's the last song?" Cait asked the kids.

  "'We Three Kings!'" The shout echoed off the chancel walls.

  She grinned. "I hope you use that energy to sing. Ready, wise men?" She lifted her arms, looking a little like an angel herself in a flowing white shirt tucked into slim jeans. "First verse, everybody."

  The words started out weakly, gathered in confidence heading toward the chorus. "'Star of wonder, star of light...'" Listening, Ben assessed the paper star he'd constructed, wired and hung over the peak of the stable roof. There might be a couple of adjustments he could make to improve the shine.

  '"Gold I bring...'" the first wise man sang, approaching the manger in response to Cait's wave.

  "Louder," she called. He glanced at her nervously, adjusted his high-pointed gold hat, and gave it his best.

  "Good," she smiled at him before taking the choir back into the chorus. Ben saw that smile, saw the kid flush with pleasure. Cait's approval was a powerful incentive. Frankincense to offer have I..."' Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume...'" Guide us with thy perfect light.'" The final notes faded into silence, and Cait held it for a few seconds. Then she dropped her arms, and everyone in the church took a deep breath. II

  She nodded. "Very, very good. Now, once that's done, we start the procession.'' She explained how the wise men and announcing angels would lead, followed by the rest of the cast. "Miss Anna will keep playing, and you'll keep singing the chorus, over and over again. The congregation will come out after you, and we'll all walk through the neighborhood to Pastor David's house. Right?" Completely focused, the kids nodded in unison. "So let's try it." j

  '":

  Hi,

  Several run-throughs later, the procession looked pretty smooth. But getting the kids back into place was a major undertaking. Ben picked up a can of soda Cait had been drinking earlier and joined her at the front of the church. "Wet your whistle," he suggested, holding out the can.

  "Thanks." She sighed with relief as she swallowed. 'Tm more accustomed to using mikes than I realized. The voice isn't ready to talk this loud and long."

  "Do you think it's going well?"

  "So far. The shepherds worry me."

  Her concern was justified. Those boys still fumbled the words to "The First Noel."

  Hands on her hips again, Cait stared at them. "What are we going to do, guys? We're running out of time."

  Ben stepped forward. ■ 'Let me take them into the office and work on the words. You go on with the others."

  She grinned. "Great idea. Shepherds, Secret Service Agent Tremaine is going to help you learn your part. Torture is an acceptable alternative," she told Ben in a stage whisper. The boys filed out ahead of him, looking a little nervous.

  They flopped on the sofa and in the chairs in the church office. Ben cleared a space on the desk and sat. "Guys, you look like idiots out there."

  The shepherds exchanged hangdog looks.

  "Forgetting the words is not making you cool. Those angel girls are laughing at you for being too stupid to remember one verse."

  "We got other stuff to do," protested the brown-robed lead shepherd.

  "Not for the next fifteen minutes. What's the first line?" TJh..." Give me a break. You know the name of the song,

  14

  262 SHENANDOAH CHRISTMAS

  right?" Shamefaced, the shepherds sang the first line. "Good. Now what?"

  By the time they went back into the church, the shepherds knew their song, and Ben knew why he hadn't gone to dental school. Pulling teeth was not an occupation he enjoyed.

  But Cait's grin, when the song went well, was worth the hassle.

  The angels, being girls, knew their parts cold. Maddie and Brenna sang beautifully together, so that Cait's song filled the air with mystery and joy. Ben blinked hard when they'd finished. He was glad he'd get another chance to listen to that particular piece.

  "Angels, shepherds, wise men can take off their costumes and hang out for a few minutes while the animals practice their song." On her knees in front of the smallest kids, Cait encouraged them with a special smile. "'The Friendly Beasts,' right?"

  The hooded heads nodded, Anna played an introduction.

  One of the doves left her place and came to stand beside Cait, whispering in her ear. Judging from the shifting steps, a bathroom trip was in order. At Cait's nod, the little girl's mom came to get her, and Anna ran the intro again. Cait lifted her arms. "Ready?"

  From the end of the back row came a rumble, a thump, and a wail.

  A mom and Anna rushed to pick up the fallen donkey. Wiping his tears, checking for injuries, took a couple of minutes. j

  "Okay." Their director, smiling with determination, took another deep breath. "Donkeys, you sing first." jj

  A little boy in a sheep's hood stood up from the middle. "I'm a cow."

  "No, you're a sheep." Cait put her hand on his head and eased him to sit again.

  Another sheep boy stood up. "I'm a wolf." He put his hands up like fangs and growled. All the sheep and doves shrieked.

  Smiling, Cait shook her head. "You're very, very silly. No wolves in this story. They're all out in the hills, but you sheep are in the stable, safe and warm. Right?" The sheep nodded. "Now, donkeys..."

  Anna played her part and Cait started to sing. Sweet and clear, childish voices followed her lead. "I carried his mother up hill and down..."

  Next came the cows. "I, said the cow all white and red, I gave him my manger for his bed..."

  The sheep with curly horns were a little confused. Cait stopped and rehearsed, ' T gave him my wool to keep him warm." Then the doves, mostly girls, finished up. "I sang him to sleep with my lullaby."

/>   "You guys are spectacular," Cait told them. "I think you did such a wonderful job, we should stop for dinner now. Sound good?" A cheer went up, and Cait's face took on an expression of panic. "Take off your hoods first!" A contingent of mothers supervised the removal of the headdresses, then the church emptied as the kids headed for the social hall and pizza. Anna followed.

  Cait sank into a pew and put her head back. "Whew," she said, as Ben sat down beside her. i "You're doing a great job."

  She shook her head. ' 'The kids are doing a great job. I'm just the TelePrompTer."

  "Yeah, you didn't have anything to do with how it's turning out."

  "I can browbeat with the best of them." Sitting forward, she rested her arms on the back of the pew in front

  of them and propped her chin on her fists. "The backdrops are fantastic. Your sliding system makes changing scenery easy." From the side, he could see her smile. Then she turned her head and finally met his gaze. "Thanks for all your help, Mr. Grinch."

  "You're most welcome, Ms. Grinch." He stroked a thumb down her cheek. "I can't believe the difference you've made in my life. Christmas is just part of it."

  She drew a shaky breath. "I've changed, too. I just don't know..." She looked down at her knees and shook her head. "There's so much to think about."

  "And no time," Ben said, standing up as one of the mothers came in to consult Cait about a costume detail.

  Cait wasn't sorry to have her interlude with Ben cut short. As much time as she'd spent thinking about him, about her feelings, her goals, her needs, her desires, she hadn't come up with a way to reach a compromise.

  She could abandon her music career for life with a good man and the children she already cared about as if they were her own. She could turn her back on love, marriage and family for the career—because if she didn't take the opportunity with Ben, how could there be another man for whom she would make such a sacrifice?