A Christmas Promise

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Our pleasure. My wife’s made us an enormous dinner. We needed more customers. I hope you’re up to the challenge.”

  “I’ll try my best.” She smiled at him, feeling at ease already.

  “There’s a good attitude. We’ll have to work on James, though. We need to fatten him up a bit, don’t you think?”

  “Thanks a lot. What am I, a Christmas goose?” James’s expression was comically indignant and Leigh laughed.

  James glanced down at Leigh, who stood close beside him in the small foyer. Their eyes met, sharing the good humor, and he was glad he had persuaded her to come with him here.

  As Ben and Carolyn led them into the living room James stepped aside to let Leigh go first, noticing the golden lights in her rich brown hair. She wore a navy blue dress with gold buttons, very stylish, he thought, despite her pregnancy. He knew by now that she felt self-conscious about the changes in her body, but he thought she was beautiful. She had a natural, unassuming type of beauty, the kind that takes time to really see.

  Her cheeks were still rosy from the cold air outside and her eyes bright, as she took a seat on the long couch. James quickly sat beside her. So she wouldn’t feel adrift in this sea of new faces, he told himself, though he knew very well it was also because he liked to be near her.

  Ben’s son, Mark, and son-in-law, Jack Anderson, were seated across from each other, a chessboard set up between them on the coffee table. They both looked up to say hello, and James introduced Leigh.

  He glanced over the board. Only a few pieces were left standing. “Who’s winning?”

  “I am.” Both men spoke at the same time then laughed at each other, though neither took his eyes away from the battlefield.

  “Why don’t you play the winner, James?” Mark reached out and moved a pawn one space forward.

  “Sure, but I’m not great at chess.”

  “That’s all right, neither is Mark.” Jack slid his bishop forward, took the pawn, and sat back. “Check.”

  Mark looked distressed. He hadn’t seen that coming.

  “Here’s someone who’d like to play,” Ben announced.

  James followed Ben’s gaze and saw Ben’s daughter, Rachel, coming into the room, bent over almost double as she held up the two tiny hands of her ten-month-old son, William.

  “Here he comes. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. . . .”

  William was dressed in miniature blue corduroy pants, small black boots, and a green-and-blue-striped rugby shirt.

  “Hey, buddy. Come to your uncle Mark. Help me out here. This is an emergency.”

  James watched as Rachel led the baby over. He glanced at Leigh, who looked enthralled. “He’s totally adorable,” she said quietly.

  “Isn’t he?” James agreed, mesmerized by the sight of the tiny person.

  Rachel popped her head up and smiled. “Thanks. I can’t wait until he starts walking. My back can’t take much more of this.”

  Carolyn followed close behind. She was holding a wooden spoon and wore an apron tied over her dress. “You say that now. Just wait. He’ll be into everything once he’s roaming around on his own.”

  William had finally reached the chess table where Mark and Jack beamed down at him.

  “Let him go a sec, honey. Let’s see if he can stand.”

  Rachel carefully released William’s tiny hands, one by one. He looked perplexed a moment and stared up at her, holding on to the edge of the coffee table for dear life, James thought.

  “You’re okay, honey. You can do it,” his mother coaxed.

  “Look at that big boy.” Jack’s voice was full of pride. The baby responded happily; he looked up at his father with a laughing gurgle. Then he let go of the table and moved toward Jack with an awkward step.

  Suddenly the chess table caught his attention. He quickly turned to face it, reached out, and grabbed for everything in sight.

  “William! For goodness’ sake!” Jack leaped up and scooped up his son just as the toddler began to sway, heading for a fall along with the cascade of chess pieces. “Did you have to do that, honey? Daddy was finally going to beat your uncle Mark. I’ve waited years for this!”

  “Way to go, Willie-boy.” Mark reached up and patted his nephew’s diapered bottom. “I knew you’d come through for me.”

  “See, I told you.” Carolyn laughed, shaking her head at her grandson. “Well, I guess the chess game is over. You can all come in to dinner.”

  Ben showed them to their seats, and James was relieved to see he and Leigh were seated side by side. Then he felt a little odd, realizing that the Lewises were treating them very much like a couple. Was it just his imagination? He had spoken with Ben about Leigh a few times since she arrived in town. Ben knew very well that she and James were merely friends, thrown together by circumstances. He had told Ben plainly enough that as much as he admired Leigh, he simply wanted to help her while she was in town.

  Still, his host and hostess continued to give him knowing looks, and there was nothing James could do about it. He glanced at Leigh, who was now helping Carolyn light the candles on the table. Well, there are worse things people could think about me than to assume I claim a special place in this woman’s life, he decided.

  “It’s so nice to have you all here today,” Ben said when everyone was seated. “We all have so much to be thankful for: our health, our family, our friends.” His gaze came to rest on James. “I was wondering if you’d care to say the blessing for us today, James?”

  “I’d be honored,” James replied.

  Around the table, everyone bowed their heads and held hands. James was keenly aware of holding Leigh’s smooth hand in his own. He thought for a moment about what he might say.

  “Thank you, Lord, for bringing us together today, to share in this wonderful meal and to share in all the love and good feeling within these walls. Please keep us mindful of our duty to share our bounty with those less fortunate, not just today, but every day. Please help us to be thankful and aware of our many blessings today and throughout the year to come. Amen.”

  “Amen.” Ben raised his head. “That was perfect, thank you. Though I might ask the Lord to help us be mindful of both the blessings that are obvious to us—and those that might come in disguise.” He pinned James with his sharp blue eyes, then stood to carve the turkey that Carolyn had set before him. “You’ve outdone yourself, dear. This looks too beautiful to eat.”

  Bowls of vegetables, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and two kinds of potatoes were passed as Ben filled everyone’s plate with a portion of turkey. The family banter continued, interspersed with compliments on the food, which was amazing, James thought. Or maybe it had simply been too long since he’d been back for this most all-American holiday.

  Rachel sat on Leigh’s other side, with the baby’s high chair to her right at the end of the table. James was glad to see Rachel engage Leigh in conversation, asking about her work at Dr. Harding’s office and how she liked Cape Light, and about her pregnancy.

  “Come to think of it, I have tons of things I can give you for the baby. William got so many clothes, he didn’t get to wear half of them. And it’s not all blue. Most of the things are for a boy or a girl,” she added.

  Leigh smiled. “I won’t mind dressing my daughter in blue once in a while. I don’t think of colors as strictly for boys or girls.”

  “I totally agree,” Rachel said. “Some people get so silly about things like that. . . .”

  Carolyn needed some help in the kitchen and Leigh started to rise. “Oh, no, you sit. I can go,” Rachel said. She had William on her lap, though, and he didn’t want to go back into his high chair. “Jack, can you take the baby?”

  “I can take him. Give him here.” Leigh smiled and held out her arms to William, and he went to her willingly.

  Rachel stood by and watched a moment. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “We’ll be fine. I need the practice,” Leigh replied.

  Rachel bent down to retrieve a s
mall stuffed giraffe from underneath the table. “Okay, just call if you need me.”

  James pulled his seat a little closer and draped his arm around the back of Leigh’s chair, so that William wouldn’t wiggle away and fall between them.

  William grabbed a silver spoon from the table, banged it on the tablecloth, then put it in his mouth. James quickly cleared away anything potentially dangerous within his reach.

  “If we’re not careful, he might try one of those stunts, where the magician pulls the tablecloth off the table with all the dishes still on.”

  “Oh, I hope not.” Leigh gave a short laugh and glanced at him just for a second before focusing back on William.

  James smiled again, watching her, and got the oddest rush of feeling. What if she were his wife and this was their son? Then he wondered where the strange question had come from. It was this house maybe, so filled with family warmth and the love the Lewises shared for each other.

  Though James always assumed he would marry someday, he never seemed to make the time or space for it in his life. His commitment to the mission was all-consuming. It fulfilled him, gave his life structure and meaning and a deep spiritual dimension. Perhaps it was the most obvious truth in the world, but it now occurred to him that family life was rich and meaningful, too. Was there a more profound or more spiritual experience than raising a child? Watching Leigh amuse William while he sat on her lap, James didn’t think so.

  The mission and the church were his family. Hadn’t he told Leigh that when they first met? Yet now, that didn’t seem enough. He had deep connections but no one truly intimate to share his life, no partner whose life was entwined with his through love and children and the many vital threads that married couples shared.

  Maybe the problems at the mission had set off this chain of thoughts. First had come the unsettling realization that he wasn’t indispensable. His presence was valued and respected but not essential. Even his calling as a minister was not quite as he had always pictured it. His work was important, but it didn’t take the place of having a family. It wasn’t supposed to, he realized as he watched Ben sitting at the head of the table, the patriarch of this warm, loving clan. James admired Ben, his experience and wisdom, the way he had with people. Now he wondered if Ben was perhaps a better minister in some ways, because his life experience had been made richer by marriage and children.

  Rachel returned and reached down to take William off Leigh’s lap. “Come here, big guy. Time for a nap, I hope.”

  Leigh looked at James and raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t look very sleepy, does he?”

  “Not at all. But they have certain schedules, I understand.”

  “Yes, I’ve been reading about that. It’s not as easy as it looks.”

  He sensed a note of worry beneath her joking tone. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze. “Don’t worry, you’ll be a great mother. You’re a natural. I can see it already.”

  “Thanks.” She glanced up at him and smiled slightly. He was suddenly aware that he still sat with his arm around her chair. Around her shoulder now, actually. But Leigh didn’t seem uncomfortable with this closeness and he didn’t move away.

  What about Leigh? he thought, gazing down at her.

  Could he love her?

  She had already touched his heart in a certain way he had never quite known before. But was that love or just a kind of empathy? The two of them were so different, on completely different paths it seemed. Whenever he thought of the woman he might someday marry, it was someone who shared his commitment to the church and who would embrace mission life. Leigh didn’t seem to fit either of those images. But maybe there were other things that were more important, things he’d had little experience with and didn’t even expect.

  “THIS IS THE LAST OF IT. DO WE HAVE ANY MORE BAGS?” SAM DROPPED his rake and pulled a pair of work gloves from his back pocket. Jessica found a box of plastic lawn bags and pulled out one more. It felt good to get outside and do some hard work after all the eating and lying about she had done yesterday at Sam’s parents’ house. She needed to stretch her muscles and clear her head in the fresh air.

  She snapped open the bag and began stuffing the raked leaves inside. “I still need to put those bulbs in. They say Thanksgiving is the absolute latest you can plant them.”

  “We can do it tomorrow. They’ll still sprout.” He leaned over and scooped up an armful of leaves. Then he paused and pushed up the sleeve of his fleece pullover to check his watch.

  “I want to get over to the center this afternoon. I promised Luke and the kids I’d come by for some basketball.”

  “Basketball, today? I thought we were going to do yard work.”

  “We’ve been raking for hours, Jess. It’s almost three o’clock. You must be ready for a break, too.”

  Jessica stood up and picked a few leaves off her sweater. “You just saw Darrell yesterday, Sam.”

  “What’s Darrell got to do with it? I promised Luke I’d help him coach the kids.”

  “All right. You’re just going there to help coach. . . . But I want to talk to you about something that happened yesterday. I just didn’t get the chance . . .”

  Sam shoved more leaves into the bag. “Something about Darrell, you mean?”

  “Nothing he did, nothing like that. . . . I’m upset with you for telling your brother that we’re taking Darrell in as a foster child.”

  Sam stood up and stared at her, clearly surprised by her outburst. “I said we were looking into it. And I only said that when Paul asked me, point-blank.”

  “Telling Paul is like broadcasting it worldwide.”

  “Maybe, but I still don’t see the problem.”

  I’m not thinking about taking Darrell in. You are, she wanted to say.

  But that response was far too harsh. It would only make everything worse, she thought.

  Jessica chose her words carefully. “I would just like to talk it through more before we start telling people we’re considering it. I don’t even know Darrell that well yet.”

  “And you still don’t really like him, right?” he finished for her.

  “I didn’t say that.” Jessica crossed her arms over her chest. Now that they had stopped working she was chilly. “I actually like him a little better than before. He was pretty good at your parents’ house. You must have had a talk with him or something.”

  “I did. But it wasn’t just that. Darrell felt more comfortable at my folks’ house than he did at your mother’s, calmer and more accepted probably. And there were plenty of kids there to play with, so that helped a lot.”

  “That’s what it looked like to me, too.” She kicked at the leaves with the toe of her sneaker, sending a few into the air and watching them float down.

  “You were nicer to him, too, I noticed.”

  Jessica didn’t look up at him. “Well, he was nicer to me. He didn’t play any tricks on me or crawl under the table.”

  “I laid down the law about that.” Sam crouched down and started working on the leaves again, stuffing handfuls in a steady rhythm into the open bag. Jessica stood watching him, her thoughts on the boy.

  Darrell had been awed by the Morgan gathering, and she had found herself touched by that. It was clear to her now that Darrell had been raised with very little: tenuous family connections, sparse emotional support, and few material comforts.

  “I saw him break the wishbone with your father,” she said, her voice a little softer. “How did he get that job?”

  “My dad always pulls one kid’s name out of a hat. We did it that way when we were kids, too.”

  “Darrell was the lucky winner. I didn’t realize.”

  “That day he was.”

  Jessica bent down and helped again. The bag was almost full, and she used her hands to compress the leaves. “Have you spoken to Luke about him yet?”

  “I asked him to find out if Darrell will be available for fostering. He might tell me more today. He thinks it’s possible.”

 
“But he doesn’t know for sure?”

  “No, not for sure.”

  Sam picked up the bag, pulled the ties, and sealed it. “Why don’t we call it a day?”

  Jessica nodded to a smaller pile of leaves on the other side of the yard. “I want to clean those up, but why don’t you get going? It is getting late.”

  “I can help you finish.”

  “No, it’s all right. I can manage.” She stopped and faced him. “I don’t want you to hate me over this, Sam, but I need to be honest. If we’re going to do something as major as fostering a kid, I need you to talk to me about it first. And now that it’s come up, I’m not sure I can be a good parent to Darrell. Maybe it’s just a bad time for me, and I’m too stressed about getting pregnant or something. I don’t want to disappoint you . . . but I’m just not ready for it.”

  She watched Sam take a breath. He started to move toward her, then stopped. “Okay. Well. At least you’re being up front with me, Jess. It’s important that we know where we stand on this.”

  Though he would never admit it to her, she could tell from the sound of his voice and the look on his face that he was crushed. She didn’t regret being honest with him—that was necessary—but she didn’t feel good about hurting him either. It left her feeling bleak and hollow inside.

  Sam rubbed his chin. “So the idea of taking in Darrell is closed for good?”

  She could say yes, end this discussion once and for all, but the moment she thought about doing that the bleak feeling inside got worse.

  “Maybe we can think about it some more,” she allowed.

  “Can I talk to Luke? It might not even be possible, you know.”

  She nodded quickly. “Sure. Let’s see what Luke finds out. I guess I’m curious now myself.”

  That much was true. If Luke were to say that Darrell had already been placed in foster care, then there wouldn’t be much of an issue here. And I’d be off the hook, in a way, Jessica realized.

  “Okay. I’ll be back around five.” Sam leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Is that good?”

  “That’s fine.” Jessica forced a small smile.

  She watched Sam walk heavily across their property, then climb into his truck and drive away. She leaned on the rake, feeling as if she might suddenly cry.