“A genuine Christmastown, USA,” Neil commented. “I’d love to see their electric bill.”
“These people do love Christmas,” she agreed. Walking by the main house, Debbie gazed upon the dozens of lighted roses on the ground like a winter’s garden. “Beautiful.”
“Seeing this, I can’t help thinking about Gram,” Neil said. “She would get a kick out of it all. She loves light displays. I want her to have a nice Christmas, but I don’t know if I can pull it off. And now we’re going to have to break the news to her about my grandfather.”
“It will work out fine, don’t worry,” she said, drawing closer to his coat, which felt better than any security blanket. “Look over there.”
Her sights fell on a large tent where inside a band played lively tunes. They looked at each other and walked over to find people sitting in folding chairs, clapping away to gospel tunes praising God. At a large table, an older woman offered hot chocolate and Christmas cookies.
“You have quite a setup here,” Neil remarked.
“We do it every year. We like to bless the community.”
“It must take you all year to put up the lights and take them down again.”
She laughed. “We start in early fall. And usually it takes until the end of January to tear it all down. We have several sheds in the back where we store it all. But we love doing it.” She nodded toward the band. “This way, people will also stop by the tent here and learn something about God.”
“Interesting,” Neil said, taking a seat beside Debbie to hear the band. “They set up all these lights to draw people in, and then arrange to have a band play gospel songs and talk about the real reason for the season. What a great way to minister to the people.”
“I’d love to do something like this one day,” Debbie mused. “But I would do my place up entirely in white lights. I’d serve cinnamon stars. And mulled cider.”
Neil snickered. “You’ll have to marry a guy who likes to do that kind of stuff.”
Debbie looked down at the steaming hot cocoa she held in her hands. How she hoped Neil, sitting there in his black wool coat, might be that kind of guy.
“I’m lucky if I can even screw in a lightbulb,” he added.
For some reason, the comment saddened her. Maybe she had been living in a cloud these days since they shared a kiss, convinced that God had brought the right man into her life. Or was she only caught up in some emotional whim and not seriously thinking and praying about this? Of course Neil had many special characteristics that appealed to her. The way God brought them together through his grandmother had been a miracle, as well. “You were good at untangling that strand of lights in my apartment,” she remarked.
He laughed. “Yes, I did do a pretty good job. Maybe there’s hope for me in the decorating department, after all.”
Debbie hoped so, too, as a rousing rendition of “Amazing Grace” filled the tent. The music followed them out into the wintry night. Again Debbie felt Neil’s thickly gloved hand slip around hers. They walked toward the car and gazed upon the many lighted forms of forest animals tucked back in the woods.
“There really has been amazing grace in my life,” Neil said, staring at the animated deer that nodded their heads as if in agreement to what he said. “All grace. Grace to figure out this thing with my grandparents. Grace for my desk job. Grace to get through the latest fiasco at White Pines with the nurses. Grace on my family. Grace to know more about you, Debbie, and make sure I don’t ignore any of your instructions ever again. And grace to remember that tact is the key.” He chuckled.
She sighed. God, how can this man not be for me? He must be. He knows You so well. Look what we’ve been through. Even when I wanted to leave, he remained steadfast, firm, unrelenting. I will even teach him how to string up white lights, if only You would finish this work in us.
When she opened her eyes, he was gazing at her intently. She thought perhaps he might kiss her, but the moment passed. Neil coaxed her toward the car. She sighed. It was better for them to travel the road of love one step at a time, to wait on God’s leading and not act out of impulsiveness.
Once inside the car, Neil sat in his seat as if frozen, staring out the window.
“Penny for your thoughts,” she said.
“Oh, just thinking about the work cut out for me. Like telling Gram the news, which I hope doesn’t shock her to death.”
“Neil, we’ll sleep on it tonight and see if we have any ideas on how to tell her. I know when we do come up with an idea, it will be perfect.”
“Debbie, you’re something else.”
A kiss of gratitude followed in the most perfect moment possible. As far as she was concerned, her Christmas wish had already come, wrapped in a big black wool overcoat, and with a future waiting to be had. There was no better fulfillment to a season of giving and joy.
❧
“Please?”
The elderly woman shook her head and looked away.
“But, Gram, you need to talk to him.”
She shook her head again. “I’m not speaking about private things to some man I don’t even know. Really, Nathaniel. How can you even suggest such a thing?” She drew up her lap robe as if to guard herself.
Neil felt his frustration level rising. He glanced back at Debbie who nodded her head, her eyes wide, as if encouraging him to stand firm. “Gram, this is the only way. Believe me. I talked to him. He knows everything. Even your nickname. How would he know that unless he knew Sam? Your Sam? Sam Truett.”
“Nathaniel, you don’t live here. I hear things all the time. The poor people calling out for loved ones. One lady asking for her cat. They have lost their minds, many of them. And I’m not about to trust something this personal, this dear to me, to some crazy old man.” Her voice heightened. “Anyway, I don’t want to get to know any more men. I had two men, and they both left me alone to live in this place. So please don’t force me to meet some crazy man.”
Neil retreated into the hall. He felt sick to his stomach, even as Debbie laid her soothing hand on his shoulder. “What am I going to do? She won’t talk to Harold. I guess we are similar in a way, even if we aren’t blood relations. I didn’t want to talk to the man either, at first. But it was the best thing I ever did.”
“We can’t force her, Neil. Maybe she’s afraid to face the truth. It’s scary confronting the past. Let it go.”
He began to chuckle scornfully. “ ‘Let it go.’ Honestly, if I hear that statement again, I think I’ll go crazy.” He’d no sooner spoken than regret seized him. “I’m sorry,” he said to Debbie. “But this is something I’ve just got to see through.” He turned on his heels and started to walk down the hall. When Debbie asked where he was going, he told her he was going to think. He spoke the truth, but he also wanted to see that man again. Harold. The man who knew his grandfather. The one who knew his father. The only living, breathing link left to his past.
He brushed by the nurses, many of whom only gave him a passing glance. He was glad for small miracles. Word had spread about him and Debbie being an “item,” and it made him happy. Now, if he could just resolve this situation, it would be a merry Christmas all the way around.
He arrived at the open doorway of Harold’s room to find Trish standing inside, scolding Harold as she tried to make him sit properly in his wheelchair.
“Who do you think you are, talking to him like that?” Neil snarled.
Trish whirled around, her face white.
“You don’t deserve to work here. It’s an honor to work with people like him. You treat them like they’re dirt on the floor.”
She said nothing but only stared. Even Harold stared, his eyes wide.
“You know, if you can’t do a job right, you shouldn’t be doing it. These people deserve better. You should be giving them all the respect they can get. N
ow please leave.”
Trish said nothing but hurried out of the room. Harold shook his head in wonder. “I would promote you if I had the authority, young man.”
Neil pulled up a chair and sat down beside him. “Do you remember me, Harold?” He saw the tears of recognition.
“W–Why did you come back?”
“I need a favor. A big one.”
“I. . .uh. . .” Harold stared off into the distance. “Hey, I see them. Here they come!”
Neil gently took the man’s face in his hands, turning it so their eyes met. “Harold, it’s time to face reality. The war’s long over, and now I need your help.”
“I can’t help you.”
“Yes, you can. You knew my grandfather, Sam Truett. You knew my dad, Albert, when he was a little boy. You can help me in more ways than you know. You already saved me from an enemy of confusion and all the unanswered questions. Now you can save a woman who has been living with questions all her life. You can fulfill her one wish at this moment.”
“But. . .I don’t know any women.”
“Liv. You can help Liv.”
His wrinkled hand gripped Neil’s. “Liv! You mean, she’s here?”
“Yes, she lives here. Down the next hall. A miracle of God, really. She’s Sam’s Liv, the one he talked about on the battlefield, the woman who took care of Sam’s little boy. And I’m that little boy’s son.”
Harold began to tremble. “It can’t be. You can’t be.”
“Harold, I am. And right now I need you to go talk to Liv. I need you to tell her what happened to Sam that day on the beach. Let her heart rest in peace.”
He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Look, I know what you said. How you made Sam a promise when he lay there dying. You think you didn’t live up to it. But now is the time. You can fulfill the promise to Sam by meeting Liv and telling her the truth. Don’t you think Sam would want her to know what happened to him?”
“But he wanted me to take care of them. And I didn’t. I did nothing. I came home and tried to forget.”
“Harold, you have to let that go.” Neil nearly laughed at his use of the expression—let it go. But maybe there was more to the saying than met the eye. “Now you can do something, something really big, to put Liv’s heart at rest. She told me the best Christmas present she could have was to know what happened to Sam. And you’re the one who can make it happen.”
Harold sat there, seemingly frozen in place in his wheelchair. At least he was no longer murmuring words of war, seeing the enemy, talking of bullets and death. For the first time, he was not immersing himself in the past but facing it.
“All right.”
“What?” Neil could hardly believe what he heard.
“I’ll talk to Liv and tell her that I knew Sam and what happened to him. Where is she?”
Neil brushed his hand across his face, unsure if this was real. “Wow, Harold. Okay.” His thoughts became muddled. “Look, I’ll try to set up a meeting place, okay? You two should have privacy. I’ll get back to you.”
Harold shook his hand. “You grew up to be a nice young man,” he said. “Sam would be proud. In fact, you look like him.”
Neil couldn’t hold the tears that teased his eyes. He was his father’s child and his grandfather’s grandson. A part of both men lived on. He felt proud then, proud to be a product of men like that. He only prayed the life he lived would preserve their honor.
Thirteen
“How do you think it went?” Debbie wondered.
Neil tried hard not to let his nervousness show, even as his skin crawled with prickles of anxiety and curiosity. He picked up a travel mug of coffee. He didn’t even want to wager a guess. As it was, he’d convinced Gram to go to the meeting on a slightly false pretense, telling her that a friend from long ago had come to see her. Now he wondered if he’d made yet another awful mistake. Maybe he should have come right out and told her. But if he had, he was certain she would refuse the encounter. This was the only way.
“You aren’t saying anything. You think it bombed?”
He took another gulp of the stale coffee before tucking the mug into the car’s cup holder. “I don’t know. I guess I’m trying not to think about it too much. I just hope and pray I haven’t made the worst mistake of my life by having the two of them meet. If this ends up killing Gram, I’ll never forgive myself.”
Immediately Debbie put her hand on his, steadying his nervous tremors. “Neil, please don’t say that. We need to believe that everything is going to work out right. We didn’t come this far to let it all go downhill. God knows your heart, that you want good to come from a situation that has been going on now for over sixty years.”
“No matter how this ends, I plan to visit Harold as much as I can. The man is my relative, even if he is not a blood relation. He’s my only living link, besides Gram, to my grandfather and my father. He deserves all the attention I can give him and so much more, really.”
“I’m sure he’ll love having you for an adopted grandson. I think it will do wonders for him. And it will do wonders for your grandmother, too.”
Neil tried hard not to fidget while he glanced out the car window. He had wanted to go back and be with Gram after the meeting was all said and done, but he was glad he hadn’t. Better to give Gram time after something of this magnitude. He only hoped their close relationship as grandmother and grandson still remained intact.
“Hello?” Debbie whispered in his ear. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I guess we gave the best medicine we could. Now we have to wait for the healing.”
She nodded before planting a light kiss on his cheek. “I agree. Maybe you can rest easier tonight, knowing all this is finally out in the open.”
“I hope so.” That would be a nice change to a Christmas season that had begun in ways he never could have imagined. He glanced over at Debbie. Her eyes were wide, cheeks all aglow, a vision of beauty during a difficult and unpredictable time. He was glad to have her by his side, and he hoped she’d stay forever.
“So let’s change the subject and concentrate on our job for today. Did you bring your Christmas shopping list?” Debbie reached inside her pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper filled with scribbles.
Neil shrugged.
“You don’t have one? Then how are you supposed to remember who to buy for and what?”
Lists. They were as foreign to him as picking up a dust rag and cleaning the apartment. He usually relied on his brain to do the remembering, but these days his mind felt more like a colander, with ideas dripping into oblivion. “I’ll see what you buy, and maybe it will give me some hints.”
When Debbie suggested a shopping trip to Roanoke to while away the hours on this Saturday afternoon, Neil thought it a good idea. He felt the need for an escape, and Debbie was a good distraction—until he found himself thinking again about Christmas and all the great ideas he had still not put into motion. He hadn’t talked to his mother about inviting Gram home for the holidays, nor had he looked into another private-duty nurse to replace Trish. With the weight of the grandfather issue, it had taken a backseat.
“Don’t worry about the list,” Debbie went on. “We’ll make one right now. You tell me who you need to buy for, and maybe I can make a suggestion.” She took out a scrap of paper and a pen from her purse.
“Gram,” he began. “I still need a private-duty nurse.”
“You mean you haven’t gotten one yet? Neil, you can’t leave important things like that to the last minute. As it is, it’s probably too late.”
“So there’s no chance of you doing it? What if you called in sick? Or said that a loved one needed special care over the holidays?”
The look she gave communicated her answer, though he hoped a miracle might still be in the works. When she l
aunched into getting docked a week’s pay for not showing up Christmas, along with the horror of telling a lie to boot, he immediately retreated. Maybe with all the turmoil brewing this year, he should just forget about inviting Gram to Mom’s house. But the more he considered dropping the idea, the less peace he felt. It seemed perfect having her there with all his siblings together, especially after the Harold incident. His aunts and uncles would stop by for hors d’oeuvres on Christmas Eve. It would be like a reunion. Gram would have a ball, holding newborn great-nieces and great-nephews, seeing her great-grandchildren, laughing, and reminiscing about the old days. He wanted to make it work, but so far, nothing was falling into place the way he’d intended.
He put his thoughts aside then and made small talk about gift ideas for others in the family. When they arrived, the mall in Roanoke was fairly bursting at the seams with shoppers. Once inside, they paused at several stores to do some window-shopping. Fuzzy sweaters like the kind Debbie wore graced the mannequins. Neil wondered if she would like another one for her wardrobe. Did she own a black one? He liked black. Or was a sweater too personal? Maybe he should stick to old-fashioned notepaper in a flowered box. Or a large potted poinsettia. A bouquet of red roses better illustrated his heart. A diamond ring would be the ultimate gift, if he thought she would say yes. She had to say yes. They had been through so much. She had seen the inner struggles of his heart and the goings-on with his family. She had become a crucial part of his life. They were being knit together as one.
A poke in his arm drew him back to the reality of the shopping experience. Debbie had stopped at some bath boutique. Flowery scents assaulted his senses. Looking across the way, he saw a computer store. That was more his style. He was curious to know what new games would be out for the coming New Year. Maybe he could find something for his brother, Dick.
“I think you can find some nice stuff in here for your mother and sister.” She poked him again. “And stop thinking about buying yourself a computer game,” she said with a teasing tilt.
Truly Yours Contemporary Collection December 2014 Page 60