A Christmas Promise

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Darrell Lester?” Jessica glanced up at him. The name didn’t ring a bell.

  “You know, that kid at New Horizons. The one who made the key chain for me.”

  “Oh, right . . . sure, I remember.” She felt embarrassed for forgetting. Darrell hadn’t been at New Horizons very long, but he already had a major case of hero worship for Sam.

  It wasn’t surprising. Sam was great with kids and a good guy, besides. With his outdoor work slowing down these last few months, he had been spending more time at New Horizons, a learning center for city kids who were at risk: getting into scrapes with the law or having trouble in school or in the foster system. As Jessica recalled, Darrell Lester fell into all three categories. There were so many children with sad stories there. Jessica often thought about volunteering but somehow never got around to it. Sam went regularly, though, helping with schoolwork and teaching woodworking and basic building skills.

  Sam was so nonjudgmental, so generous with his time. She admired that about him. Sometimes, though, she wished Sam would be more focused on their own problems, instead of getting so involved with strangers.

  Maybe I’m just jealous because I can’t distract myself so easily. Sam’s found a way to have kids in his life before we have a baby, but I can’t find anything to fill this gaping hole in my heart.

  “Ready for bed?” Sam glanced down at her, pulling her a bit closer.

  Jessica nodded. “I guess so.”

  They stood together a moment longer, staring out at the snow. A crescent moon shone brightly through the parting clouds. Jessica saw a star and squeezed her eyes shut, making a quick wish. She glanced up and knew Sam had been watching. He leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead.

  “Hope it comes true,” he whispered.

  Jessica nodded, her head tucked under his chin. Me, too, she said inside. Me, too.

  CHAPTER TWO

  JAMES THOUGHT HE WOULD BE THE FIRST ONE UP, BUT AS HE came down the back stairs that led into the kitchen he heard the women’s voices. Leigh stood by the table, fully dressed, setting out mugs and silverware while Vera ransacked a cupboard. Leigh looked up and smiled at him briefly then turned toward Vera again.

  “Here it is. I knew I had some.” Vera held out an oatmeal box like a hard-won trophy. “Perfect on a snowy morning.”

  “Just some milk will be fine for me. I can’t eat too much in the morning,” Leigh said.

  Vera frowned sympathetically. “Morning sickness? You’re far along for that. I had a terrible case myself with my second child, right up to the finish line. It’s a wonder she turned out so big and healthy. She—”

  “Is something burning?” James gently interjected.

  Vera turned in alarm to the stove. “The milk for the cocoa . . . oh, my gosh. I’m sorry, dear. I’ll have to start from scratch.”

  “That’s all right. Cold milk would be fine. In fact, I’d prefer it.”

  “And I’d be perfectly happy with some cold cereal, Vera. I need to get outside and start digging us out.”

  “I appreciate your help, Reverend. I used to have a teenager who came around when it snowed, but he’s gone off to college now.” Vera turned and grabbed another pot, about to start the oatmeal anyway, he noticed. “Quite a bright boy. Hoped to be a doctor, I think. . . .”

  Fearing another rambling tale, James jumped right in. “A doctor? Really? He’ll be gone a long time then. Is the coffee ready?” he asked hopefully.

  “I think so.” Leigh smiled at him with quiet understanding. James poured himself a cup and took a seat at the table. “Have you called the service station yet? They probably open early.”

  Leigh sat down across from him. “No, I haven’t tried. I left the phone number upstairs somewhere.”

  “Harbor Auto, down on Scudder Lane.” Vera squinted at the oatmeal box then at her measuring cup.

  “That was it, Harbor Auto.” Leigh sounded surprised, and Vera laughed.

  “Of course that was it. Where else were they going to take your car at that hour? The number’s on the bulletin board by the telephone. You can call from down here.”

  Leigh rose and went to the phone. James started on his cereal. He didn’t mean to listen in on her conversation, but it was impossible not to. Besides, he felt responsible for the damage. It was such an old car, she might not have collision coverage. He was wondering how long the repairs would take when Leigh’s voice rose on a note of distress.

  “But I don’t live around here. I can’t really wait that long.” She paused and briefly turned so that he could see her face. She looked very worried, a deep crease between her brows. “That much? Can’t you do it for less? I just need the car up and running. It’s really not even worth very much. . . . Yes, I see. I’ll wait to hear from you then. Thanks very much,” she said slowly, then hung up the phone.

  Leigh returned to the table. Her expression was composed, but she seemed suddenly absorbed in the pattern of the tablecloth and he suspected she was trying to mask her distress.

  “Listen,” he said, “the accident was all my fault. I’ll pay for your car, whatever it costs. Don’t worry. I have insurance. It should cover most of the damage.”

  Leigh’s gaze rose to meet his. “I appreciate your offer, but insurance companies take so long to settle these things. I really need my car back. The mechanic said it might take a few days, maybe even until next week. He’s not sure yet. He may have trouble getting parts since it’s so old. He’s going to call around and call me back.”

  Feeling terrible that she was so upset, James began to rack his mind for other options. “Well, let’s see. I guess you could have it towed to another shop, maybe up to Newburyport. It’s a bigger town than Cape Light. But they might not be able to have it done for you any sooner if it’s a matter of finding the right parts.”

  “Yes, I thought of that, too. I doubt it would help to move the car at this point, though, and it would cost a lot for the tow truck.”

  “I can rent a car for you,” James offered. “The insurance might even cover some of that. Then you could come back and pick up your car when it’s done.”

  “I guess I could do that. But it sounds sort of . . . complicated.” Leigh picked up a piece of toast, looked about to eat it, then put it down again. “Besides, what if your insurance company won’t cover the cost? I don’t want you to spend all that money.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I feel responsible for your predicament. Not only is your car out of commission but you must be inconvenienced, being stuck here. I’d be happy to take you someplace today. Wherever you were going last night, I mean,” he added, recalling how he had made the same offer last night but she never said where she was headed.

  “Oh . . . well, thanks. That’s good to know. I was on my way to see a friend. She lives out on the Cape . . . in Wellfleet. I called her last night and told her what happened. So she knows I’m delayed.”

  Wellfleet was a distance, but he would have been willing to drive her there if she wanted. It was funny, he thought. She had been driving north, the opposite direction from the Cape. But maybe she had been lost.

  “Wellfleet is lovely.” Vera came to the table carrying a bowl of lumpy-looking oatmeal. “My late husband, Arnold, had family there. Wonderful oysters. Arnold loved oyster stew, though I haven’t made that in years. Easy as pie, once you get them shucked. He was quite handy at that task, believe me, though all thumbs around here for the most part.” Vera sat down at the table. “And what about you, dear? Where’s your husband? You didn’t say.”

  Vera’s tone was polite though pointed. She carefully sprinkled sugar over her oatmeal, waiting for Leigh’s reply.

  James waited, too. Leigh wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, he had noticed. He, too, had wondered about a husband, but it took Vera to plunge right in.

  Leigh stared at Vera a moment then looked down at the table. “My husband is dead. He passed away a few months ago very suddenly . . . a heart attack.”

  James felt leaden i
nside and saw Vera’s bright expression go dark. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What a tragic loss for you.”

  “Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry.” Vera put her spoon down and leaned toward Leigh. “Sorry to bring it up. I just wondered, was all. What a heartbreak . . .”

  Leigh glanced at both of them. “It was . . . a shock. A great shock. He was only a few years older than me and very healthy. I mean, he seemed to be.” She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair. “I’m trying to just think of the baby now.”

  “Of course you are.” Vera touched Leigh lightly on the wrist. “What about family? Isn’t there anyone to help you?”

  Leigh shook her head. “Not really. I don’t have any brothers or sisters, and my parents both passed away. A friend from college invited me to stay with her in Wellfleet until the baby comes. She has a shop and I’m going to help her out for the holidays.”

  She must need money if she was traveling all the way out to the Cape to work part-time in a shop, James reasoned.

  “What did your husband do for a living, dear?” Vera asked.

  Leigh paused and looked down at her dish again. James sensed it was difficult for her to answer. “He worked for a textile mill, up in Maine.”

  “Is that where you’re from?” James asked.

  Leigh shook her head. “Not exactly. After he died, I moved down to Boston for a new job. . . . But it didn’t work out.”

  “What a shame. He must have been so young. I bet he didn’t even have insurance. You don’t think of that much at your age. You think you’re going to live forever. . . .”

  James read the distress on Leigh’s face and realized that Vera had struck a nerve. “Is there any more coffee? It’s very good. Did you try a new brand, Vera?”

  Vera gave him a curious look then passed him the pot across the table. “Same brand I always use . . . Leigh fixed it though.”

  “Funny, it tastes different.” He glanced at Leigh and could see she was relieved at the sudden shift in conversation.

  No husband, no family, at least six months pregnant, and looking for work. She didn’t have it easy, did she? Still, she didn’t relate this information as if she was looking for sympathy. Quite the opposite, he thought. She seemed reluctant to share the sad details or take him up on any offers of help.

  The phone rang and Vera got up to answer it. Left alone with Leigh, James felt he wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what more he could offer that wouldn’t sound worn and clichéd. More condolences about her husband seemed redundant. Ministers were supposed to be so adept at these moments, but like many people, he often found himself at a loss for truly sincere, honest words when confronted by the enormity of death.

  Leigh sat across the table from him, sipping a glass of milk. She somehow looked different to him now than she had the night before. She had faced some rough days, with more ahead, he thought, yet still seemed composed, carrying on, doing what she had to do. He admired that.

  “It’s for you, Leigh. Harbor Auto again,” Vera called out. Leigh rose and went to the phone, and James helped Vera clear the breakfast dishes. Leigh soon returned to the kitchen. James could tell from her expression that the news wasn’t good.

  “Sounds as if it will take a few days. The mechanic is having trouble finding parts and with the snow and the weekend, everything is slowed down.”

  “You can stay here then,” Vera quickly offered. “That will be fine with me. I’m not expecting any new arrivals.”

  “Thank you, Vera. I’d appreciate that,” Leigh replied. “What is your rate for the room? You never told me.”

  Vera turned from the sink, holding a scouring pad in one hand and looking flustered. James could see that she was torn. She wanted to let Leigh stay on for free, and yet she depended on the income from her guests to support herself.

  “I’ll work it out with Vera. Don’t worry,” James said.

  “No, I can’t let you do that.” Leigh carried her glass to the counter by the sink. “I can pay for myself. I have to—”

  “But if I hadn’t smashed up your car, you would already be staying with your friend in Wellfleet. It’s my fault you’re stuck here. You must let me take care of it. I insist.”

  Leigh stood staring at him, her lips in a tight line, weighing her pride against her pocketbook, he thought.

  “I don’t care who pays, quite frankly. Or even if either of you do, all things considered. The room is sitting up there empty and so far, you eat less than a bird, miss . . . which isn’t good for your condition, I might add.” Vera spoke while leaning over the sink, working on the oatmeal pot with her scrub pad. “And by the way,” she continued before anyone could reply, “if you’re interested in earning a few dollars while you’re stuck in town, I happen to know that Dr. Harding can use a little temporary help. His receptionist took off yesterday on a family emergency. You would have thought her house was on fire. Just picked up her purse and raced out the door. I was sitting right there. She left a big waiting room full of patients. It was bedlam. And I know he’s got the word out, asking if someone can fill in a little.”

  “A doctor’s office?” Leigh asked.

  “That’s right, Dr. Harding. He came to town last winter, took over old Dr. Elliot’s practice. Nice young man, too.”

  “I’ve worked in offices but not as a secretary. . . .”

  “All you have to do is answer the phone and keep the appointment book in order. It’s not exactly brain surgery—well, not for you, anyhow.” Vera shot Leigh a quick grin as she set the pot on the drain board and wiped her hands on a towel. “I can call him for you right now, see what’s up.”

  James watched Leigh curiously. He couldn’t tell from her expression what her answer would be. Would she want to take a part-time job in town? Did she need money that badly?

  Finally, she shrugged. “I suppose I can go speak to him about it. I did want to visit a doctor today. Just to check on the baby. I’m sure nothing’s wrong,” she added with a quick glance at James. “But it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt at all.” James had meant to talk to her again about seeing a doctor and was relieved that Leigh brought it up first.

  “I’m sure he’ll make time to see you,” Vera said to Leigh, then left again to call Dr. Harding’s office.

  Leigh turned to James. “If I get the job, you’ll have to let me pay Vera for the room and board.” She was smiling but her voice sounded quite firm and determined.

  He couldn’t help but smile back. “We’ll see.”

  Vera returned, talking excitedly as she walked back into the kitchen. “Dr. Harding was busy with a patient, but I got Molly Willoughby on the line and she practically jumped out of the phone and hugged me. She said, ‘Send her right over. I can’t wait to get out of here.’ ”

  “Molly is Dr. Harding’s girlfriend. I guess she’s in the office, holding down the fort for him this morning,” James explained.

  He would trust the formidable Molly to hold down any fort, any time. But she did have her own business, and he expected she was eager to get back to it.

  “Molly is a dynamo, but she can be a little brusque. I think Leigh will have a more pleasant manner with the patients, don’t you?” Vera asked as she began to sweep the kitchen floor.

  James laughed. “Probably.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Leigh looked surprised but also pleased by the sudden turn of events.

  “I have to go over to the church this morning. I’ll drop you on my way. I just need to clean off the car and do some shoveling.”

  “Okay, if it’s not out of your way,” Leigh said. “I’ll run upstairs and grab my purse.”

  Vera emptied the dustpan into a trash pail and let the lid fall with a resounding slam. “ ‘All’s well that ends well.’ That’s what Arnold used to say. He did love his Shakespeare.”

  More an example of God moving in strange ways, James thought as he pulled on his parka. But he didn’t bother to debate th
e point with Vera.

  AS JAMES DROVE TOWARD TOWN HE FOUND THE BEACH ROAD SANDED and easy to drive. The snow-covered road, so treacherous last night, seemed benign, even beautiful, in the brilliant sunshine.

  “A big difference from last night,” he said to Leigh.

  “It’s another world,” she agreed, glancing out the window. “Look, that must be the place where we had the accident.”

  James slowed the car, noticing the telltale marks in the snow across the road. His throat tightened for a second, and he felt grateful all over again that no one had been harmed.

  “We were lucky,” Leigh said quietly. She turned her head away and stared out the window.

  “I’m glad you’re going to ask Dr. Harding to check the baby,” James said honestly. “I could never forgive myself if anything was wrong.”

  “I’m sure I’m all right. But I guess it is a good idea to check.”

  He didn’t answer, but felt relieved at her reply.

  “You’re so nice, James. . . . No wonder you’re a minister.”

  “Thanks. I think.” He glanced at her and smiled. Her tone had been complimentary but also held a note of wry humor. As if she didn’t have a very positive outlook on people.

  He soon turned off the Beach Road and came to the edge of town. “Did you get to see the village at all last night?”

  Leigh shook her head. “No, I drove off the connector from the highway.”

  “You wouldn’t have seen much with the bad weather anyway. We’re coming down Main Street now. That’s the movie theater . . . and that’s the village hall and police station.”

  James looked out at Main Street, seeing it the way a stranger might. The town looked magical today, covered in sparkling snow. Most of the storefronts dated back to the 1800s, and some, like Grace Hegman’s antique store, the Bramble, were Victorian houses, converted to shops with apartments tucked above. A bit farther down the street, the Cape Light Historical Museum, a stately brick building, stood covered with ivy and a snowy banner that announced the latest exhibit about whaling.