Half the fun of Christmas is the decorating. I guess they are missing out.
Most of the people have stopped talking as we stand there. I’m aware that I’m staring, but I don’t care. The decorations were put out to be looked at.
At least that’s what I think.
Once again all eyes are on me. I know they are.
Two girls Phoebe’s age start walking toward us, followed by a man and a woman.
“Hi Phoebe, it’s Raney. Claire is with me.”
Raney’s tone isn’t very friendly, and I’m instantly put on guard.
“Hi,” Phoebe says. “Here’s a gift we brought for you.”
A smile creeps at the corners of Raney’s mouth but doesn’t fully develop. Still, she thanks Phoebe and tears open the package.
Raney holds up a pink scarf. “Thank you,” she says. “Pink is my favorite color. Oh, and it’s so soft.”
“That’s why I picked it out.” Phoebe scoots closer to me. “Miss Jenny told me it was pink, and I could feel it was very soft.”
Claire is almost in a full-fledge scowl as Raney keeps talking about the scarf.
The atmosphere here is strange.
The couple walks up to us. “Hi. We’re Raney’s parents. Amanda and Tony. That was very nice of Phoebe to bring a gift.”
The couple offers their hands, and Stephen and I return their greeting.
“I’m Jenny, and this is Stephen. Phoebe is staying at Stephen’s house until her mother returns.”
“Well, we’re delighted Phoebe could come to Raney’s caroling party. As soon as Lydia arrives, we’ll depart. We are going to carol in this neighborhood, then we’ll come back and have dinner. We have a bonfire with marshmallows to roast after we eat. Raney saw that in a movie recently and has been badgering me ever since to do it here.”
“Sounds like a fun time,” I say.
“Why don’t you plan on coming back for the marshmallow roasting?” Amanda asks.
I look at Stephen and I see the same look on his face that I’m sure I have on mine. We need to stay with Phoebe.
I latch on to Stephen’s hand. “We were wondering if we could stay around for the caroling. Phoebe’s mother left her in our care, and oh, wow, this is terribly awkward.”
Amanda and Tony nod. “I understand,” Amanda says. “No problem. You can carol with us and have dinner. It’s a simple menu. Kids, you know? Or maybe you don’t if you don’t have any.”
“We don’t have any,” I say, “but we do understand. You probably have mac and cheese on the menu, right?”
Amanda stares blankly at me. “No. Actually we don’t. I think Raney has tried it once, hasn’t she, dear? That dish with the lobster in it she had while we were on vacation?”
“Maybe.” Tony speaks although he’s clearly checked out of the realm of what food his daughter eats.
“Come on in.” Amanda points to the other adults. “Can we get you something to drink? I’m drinking Scotch.”
Stephen and I both opt for water, with ice, which is brought to us by the bartender-butler whose name is James.
Moments later another little girl runs into the room, obviously having been here before, and joins Phoebe and the other girls.
Glancing over now and then, I notice Phoebe always seems to be standing on the edge of the girls. She’s not fully engaged. The other three girls are clearly good friends, and I’m beginning to understand Phoebe’s hesitation at coming to the party.
Amanda gathers us all, and after James returns everyone’s jackets or sweaters, we head out. Raney has offered to hold Phoebe’s hand and be her guide, but Phoebe insists on using her cane. The girls started out walking together, but it soon becomes apparent Phoebe is left to catch up to them.
“Phoebe, hurry!” Raney shouts as she, Claire and Lydia wait by a door. Amanda gave the girls specific instructions not to knock on the door until they were all there and ready.
Phoebe reaches them, and Raney knocks on the door.
The homeowners are delighted and smiling, and the girls sing “Jingle Bells” for them. Then we sing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” before making our way to the next house.
By the time we reach the fourth house, I’m fed up with the behavior of the three girls.
Stephen and I stay on the sidewalk and let Amanda and Tony walk up to the house with the girls. “There’s something clearly wrong here,” I say.
“I’ve noticed. It’s like the girls don’t care whether Phoebe is here or not.”
“Which doesn’t make sense, because Raney invited her. Why would she invite her if she didn’t want her here?”
“I don’t understand females, let alone seven-year-old ones. No clue.” Stephen keeps his voice low.
“I’m going to keep watching, and if things don’t improve, I’m going to say something.”
“Truly a cheetah,” he says, smiling.
We make our way to three more houses. A lot of the yards have big blow-up Santas and reindeers. One has a nativity scene.
We’ve about circled around to the Lee’s home when I hear Claire say, “She’s too slow, just knock, already.”
“That’s it.” I pull my hand from Stephen’s. “I’ve had enough.”
“I wouldn’t knock just yet.” My voice carries to the girls as I make my way to the front door right behind Phoebe. “What’s going on here? You girls act like you don’t want Phoebe around, yet you invited her to your ‘exclusive’ party. What gives?”
Claire and Lydia and Raney all have the decency to bow their heads.
Stephen bends down and gathers Phoebe in his arms, and even though I didn’t think it was possible, I fall even more in love with him.
“She made me invite her.” Raney lifts her gaze to her mother.
Amanda looks embarrassed while her husband continues to look clueless. And totally uninterested in our conversation, which makes me appreciate Stephen all the more.
“Raney’s teacher called a couple of weeks ago about an incident at school involving Phoebe.” Amanda has a confessional expression about her.
“What incident?” I ask.
Amanda shoves her hands in the pockets of her red sweater. “Phoebe’s mother knows all about it. There was a little scuffle between Raney and Phoebe on the playground. I told Raney to make it up to Phoebe she should invite her to her caroling party.”
Memories of the pity invite shower over me. The only invites I ever received were those type.
How dare they? Phoebe is a beautiful girl with a lot to offer, but just like when I was in school, no one cares to look past the outside to get to know someone.
Some things never change.
But things are going to change now.
“I think it’s time we leave.” I push my shoulders back. “Phoebe is a fabulous girl who doesn’t need to be around kids who are forced to be with her.”
Now Claire and Lydia scoot closer to Raney, like they are joining forces. Well, they can join forces all they want. Phoebe is too good for them. All three of them put together.
Stephen is folding up her cane and I take her hand. “Come on, Pheebes.”
“Pheebes?” Raney asks. “You call her Pheebes?”
If that kid decides to make a smart remark about the nickname, I’m going to probably say not very nice things to her mother. “Sometimes.”
“That’s a cool name,” Raney says.
About to take my first step away from this insincere crowd, I stop. I don’t say anything, but I stop.
“I don’t want Phoebe to leave.” Raney’s voice is soft, like maybe she doesn’t want to admit that in front of her friends.
I turn around. Her eyes are sad, but hopeful.
“You don’t?” I ask.
“No. I like her. I like the pink, soft scarf she brought me, too. None of my other friends brought me a gift.”
“Raney, apologize to Claire and Lydia right now for that statement.” Amanda now has an embarrassed look on her face.
�
��I’m sorry.”
Amanda looks at me. “Please come back to the house and have dinner. I know things haven’t gone well so far, but I know Raney does want to be friends with Phoebe.”
“I’m leaving this up to Phoebe. It’s her choice.”
Stephen stands close to me. We both look at Phoebe who of course doesn’t know we are looking at her. “Pheebes?”
“If Raney really wants me to stay, I would like to.”
The child part of me gets it, the adult part doesn’t. I would hightail it out of here as fast as I could if it was my choice. But I know back then, when I was little and not well liked, I would have stayed given the opportunity.
I hope Raney has good intentions.
I know I’ll know if she doesn’t.
DINNER WENT WELL. Claire ended up going home complaining of a stomach ache, but I think it was more of a jealous ache. Being a kid is tough.
Making it through is the toughest of all.
Amanda made really good conversation while Tony didn’t say a whole lot. Often we were interrupted by the sounds of the girls laughing, which brought tears to my eyes more than once.
Now, we are sitting around a bonfire in the backyard. An elaborate amount of stonework has been done, including the pit that holds the bonfire.
Raney is helping Phoebe put the marshmallow in her wooden stick. Amanda said Raney had rejected the store-bought skewers and had insisted on finding tree branches to use, because that’s what they did in the movie.
I think Raney has a lot of power in this house.
But that’s Amanda and Tony’s problem.
Well, truthfully, probably Amanda’s.
I think Tony’s here because he makes the cash that lets them live in this huge beautiful house.
“Sure, we can eat one without roasting it,” Raney says. She hands the white puffy marshmallow to Phoebe who shoves it in her mouth.
Raney follow suit, Lydia moments behind.
“We have to stand right here.” Raney holds her hand in front of Phoebe. “We can’t get too close to the fire.”
“What color are the marshmallows,” Phoebe asks.
“They’re white,” Raney answers.
“White is fluffy.” Phoebe’s statement causes us all to pause.
“Fluffy?” Raney asks. “Sometimes. Sometimes white is cold, like this.” She grabs Phoebe’s hand and places it on the wrought iron frame of the chair Amanda is sitting in.
“Oh, cold.” Phoebe takes her hand away from the chair. “What about red? What does red feel like?”
“Like getting too close to the fire.” Raney’s voice is full of excitement.
“I like this game,” Lydia chimes in.
“Me, too.” Raney looks around. “What other colors do you want to know about?”
“Yellow,” Phoebe says. “What about yellow.”
Raney looks around, the porch light only illuminating a small area.
“Yellow might be hard.” Raney looks at her mom. “Mom? Do you know what something yellow feels like?”
Amanda glances around for a moment before pointing to my hair.
“Oh.” Raney grabs Phoebe’s hand. “Here, this is what yellow is like, Pheebes.”
As the girls stand close, Phoebe’s hand brushes over my hair. A measure of contentment fills me. This could be my life one day. Stephen, friends, children, games.
To someday watch my children blossom like Phoebe is right now would be a dream I never thought I’d live out. My children will always feel confident in themselves.
Always.
I look at Stephen and smile at the man who is going to father my children.
He smiles back having no idea what is going on in my mind right now.
The fire cracks and the girls go back to their marshmallows. Amanda continues to talk about nothing of real importance, and I sit, next to Stephen, glad we brought Phoebe to this party.
This has been a special night for her. She’s made some real friends, ones that will have her back and not let anyone make fun of her.
This night is a special night for me, too, as it has brought me to a very important realization.
The realization that I don’t want to be engaged.
No, I want to be married.
BLISS
I DON’T EVER remember having a sense of excitement about going to church like I have today.
Maybe it’s because I read more of the Bible last night. Maybe it’s because we heard from Teresa that she is coming home on Christmas Eve. Maybe it’s because Stephen’s parents are coming to church this morning.
All I know is, I’ve painstakingly made sure I look my absolute best today.
I have a man who loves me as I am. All my flaws, inside and out. So I’m relishing it. I’m surprised at the relief I feel, the worry that has left me. The freedom I’m experiencing.
The atmosphere is very different from last Sunday. I know it’s my perception of it all, but I feel more comfortable, and I actually know people and can talk to them.
Phoebe is excited to hang out with the older girls, and I hear her telling them about her marshmallow roasting last night. She’s had a smile on her face ever since we left the party. She didn’t even mention Princess Bea last night.
We sing a couple of Christmas songs this morning. Then the girls go up and light the Advent candle. They’ve asked Phoebe to come up, and they guide her hand as she lights the fourth Advent candle.
I listen intently as Roger talks about Jesus being the gift. The gift of love that God sent for us. Emotion rages through me as I grasp what God really did for us.
The world had waited four hundred years, according to Roger, for God to speak. He sent Jesus as his voice to us, to declare his love and give us hope. Hope for eternal life.
I look at Stephen as tears fall down my cheeks. I see now what he has that makes him special. He’s got that hope, that assurance.
And I can have it, too.
Because God sent Jesus for me, just like He sent Him for everyone.
Stephen smiles at me and with his thumbs brushes my tears away. I’m glad I didn’t overdo the makeup. What I did put on is probably streaking down my face.
I never cry in public.
But that was the Jenny who came here without any hope. The Jenny that sits in this chair now has hope.
Hope for a wonderful marriage.
Hope for a career in design.
And assurance for an eternity with Jesus Christ.
THE AFTERNOON AND the next day speed by. I managed to slip out, borrow Stephens’s SUV and shop for a gift for Phoebe.
And Stephen.
His family is coming over for Christmas Eve dinner. Teresa will be here in time to eat, so Stephen asked her to stay as well.
We kept it simple, buying an already cooked ham. His mom said she would come over and help make some mashed potatoes, some vegetables, and I offered to make macaroni and cheese out of the box.
My new specialty.
Phoebe is a fan.
Phoebe comes into my room as I’m finishing up my makeup. We have about an hour until Stephen’s mom arrives.
“I’m going home tonight,” she says.
“I know. And I know you are excited,” I reply.
“I am. But we need to finish our Princess Bea story.”
“Want some lipstick?” I ask. “It’s clear. I don’t think your mom will mind.”
“Sure,” she says.
I hand her a small tube. “It will make your lips look shiny.”
“Thank you.”
She opens the lid and slides the tube across her lips. “Like this?”
“Perfect.” I sit on the bed with her. “So, Princess Bea is with her father and Prince Jonah.”
“Yes. He was about to pull out the letter.”
“But when he sees Princess Bea, he stops. Instead of pulling out the letter, he pulls out the necklace.”
Phoebe claps her hands. “Does she gasp because it’s so pretty?”
I laugh. “She does. And she tells him it’s beautiful. He tells her it’s a peace offering. That his father sent him to take the lands, but he knows that’s not right. The necklace will unite their families if Princess Bea agrees to marry him.”
Phoebe covers her mouth with her hand momentarily. “Marries him? But what about the potion? The curse? She has to keep playing her beautiful music.”
“There was never any power in the potion or the curse, Pheebes. The ladies only thought there was. And sometimes, when you think something is true, you believe it whether it is or not.”
A realness settles in me as I speak the words.
“So the potion couldn’t make anybody fall in love?” Her voice sounds a little sad.
“No. It couldn’t. But Prince Jonah didn’t need any potion. He takes the necklace and opens the gold circle that hangs from the chain. There are initials inscribed, one on each side. On the left is a J and on the right is a B.”
“One for Prince Jonah and one for Princess Bea.”
“Exactly. Prince Jonah explains how it has been destined for many years that he and Princess Bea are to be married, and when the kings have passed on they are to rule the lands together.”
“But, wait. Right now there are two kings. Prince Jonah’s father and Princess Bea’s father.”
“Yes, but do you know what their names are?”
“No?”
“King Bertrand and King…Jarvis.” Stephen will never know I used his real life king for a made-up story with Phoebe. “The king agrees he is to reign together with Prince Jonah’s father.” Wouldn’t that be great if in real life a simple solution would solve everyone’s problems?
“And Princess Bea and Prince Jonah have a big kingdom wedding.”
“They do.”
“I’d like to have a big wedding someday,” Phoebe says.
She looks so cute in her Christmas dress. Festive. But much too young to even be thinking about a wedding. “One day.”
“Do you think I’ll meet a Prince Jonah? Because I would like to be a princess. Like Bea.”
Her little feet with her shiny black patent leather shoes kick back and forth against the bedspread. “Phoebe.” Like a light shining through the darkness, my heart jolts with revelation. “Phoebe. Phoe-be. Bea. You named the princess after yourself, didn’t you?”
Rich in Hope (Richness in Faith Trilogy Book 2) Page 22