A Christmas Promise

by Thomas Kinkade

  “It’s all for you, pal,” Sam assured him.

  Their last stop was a toy store. Darrell had begun dragging a bit but suddenly got a second wind. Sam had also been looking a little less cheerful at the last store, Leigh noticed, possibly realizing that the hours were slipping by. But at the toy store, his spirits picked up considerably, too.

  “Well, here we are. Let’s do it,” he said to Darrell. Sam glanced at his watch and then at Jessica. “It’s nearly three. We don’t have much time left.” His voice was even but she could see the sadness building in his eyes.

  “Why don’t I wait out here with the bags?” she suggested. “That way you guys won’t be loaded down.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Sam nodded at her, appreciating the gesture.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Darrell said for about the hundredth time that day. Then he smiled at her, too, as Sam took his hand and led him into the store.

  If only this kid had acted half as reasonable for the past few weeks, maybe I would have reacted differently. Jessica shook her head and found a spot on a nearby bench, dropping the many packages around her feet. Then again, what difference would that have made? His mother would have wanted him back anyway. Sam and I would have both ended up disappointed.

  When Sam and Darrell emerged from the toy store twenty-five minutes later, they had so many bags that Jessica and Darrell had to wait by the entrance to the mall while Sam brought the car around.

  Darrell was very quiet as they headed back to New Horizons. But it wasn’t the angry kind of quiet that Jessica had experienced with him before. He kept glancing at her shyly, as if he wanted to talk, but didn’t know what to say. He seemed sad, she thought, despite his bounty of gifts. The manic shopping spree had been a distraction for all of them, she realized, but now the truth was setting in.

  It was already growing dark as they turned toward Cape Light. Sam tried to keep up a conversation but Jessica could tell his light tone was forced. Darrell answered in monosyllables, seeming lost in thought as he stared out the car window at the lights on the highway.

  Luke was waiting outside when they reached New Horizons. He and Sam transferred the packages from Jessica’s car to his SUV. Darrell went inside to say good-bye to some of the kids and counselors. He came out carrying a black duffle bag. Jessica could see he’d been crying.

  “I guess I’m ready,” he said.

  “Okay. You guys say good-bye,” Luke told him. “I’ll start the car.”

  It was thoughtful of Luke to give them some privacy, Jessica thought. Standing near Sam, she felt that she too was an intruder on this scene. She stepped back, giving him some space.

  Sam crouched down, putting his face at Darrell’s level. “You take care of yourself, okay? We don’t have to make a big deal out of this. We’re going to keep in touch. Maybe I can come into the city sometime and take you to a ball game or something.”

  Darrell nodded solemnly. “Sure. That would be cool.”

  He had his head down and Jessica thought he was about to walk away. Then he suddenly dropped his bag and flung his arms around Sam’s shoulders.

  Sam looked overwhelmed. Jessica could see his dark eyes getting glassy. “Hey . . . hey, pal. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. You’re going home to see your mom and your grandma. They’ve really missed you. I know it’s hard to go but once you get home, you’ll feel better.”

  Darrell just stood hugging Sam as Sam hugged him back. Then Jessica heard the boy take a long shaky breath. Slowly, he stepped back.

  “I’m going to miss you, Sam.”

  “I’m going to miss you, too.” Jessica could hear her husband’s strained tone, forcing his voice to sound bright when he was clearly on the edge of tears.

  “Thanks again for all the stuff. Nobody’s ever been so nice to me. You’re the best, man. I’ll never forget you.”

  Sam didn’t answer for a moment. “I’ll never forget you, Darrell. I mean that.”

  Sam looked so grief-stricken, Jessica could hardly stand. Darrell turned to her then. “Bye, Jessica. Thanks for all the clothes and stuff, too.”

  She nodded. “Sure thing.” Their gifts didn’t seem like so much suddenly, just the things that most kids she knew were given as necessities and totally took for granted.

  “You take care, Darrell. I hope everything works out for you.”

  “Thanks. Me, too,” he said.

  Sam opened the door to Luke’s truck and helped Darrell in, checking the seatbelt twice.

  They said good-bye again and Darrell shut the door. As Luke began to pull away Jessica saw Darrell wave through the window. She waved back. Sam didn’t, though. He just stood watching the truck until it disappeared out of the parking area.

  He turned to her finally. “Let’s go, I guess.”

  She nodded and followed him to their car.

  Once they were on the road, she felt as if she had to say something. He looked so bleak, retreating into some dark, painful place. “He’s a good kid, Sam. I really do hope everything works out for him.”

  Sam glanced at her. “I hope so, too.”

  Jessica glanced out the window, her throat growing suddenly tight. She felt sad, too, surprisingly sad. When had she started to care about the boy? It was all so sudden, so unexpected, though she wondered if it would have been any easier if they’d had some warning. Probably not.

  It was so ironic, Jessica realized. She never expected that she would grow so attached to Darrell. She never expected that his sudden departure would be a problem.

  She didn’t feel as bad as Sam, of course. His heart was broken. But as surprising as it seemed, her heart was a little broken now, too.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “WHY IS IT THAT EVERY TIME SOMEONE IN THIS TOWN SHOUTS ‘Rummage Sale!’ you two dash into my house, like two barbarians on a shopping spree?”

  Enthroned in her wingback chair, Lillian Warwick punctuated her words with emphatic thumps of her cane. Emily glanced at her sister, who hid a grin behind an empty cardboard carton.

  “I knew something was up. Since when do the two of you ever come here to see me?”

  “Oh, Mother. We come all week long.”

  “Not for dinner on a Tuesday. Not the two of you together. Not for the sheer pleasure of my company.”

  “It’s for the Christmas Fair, Mother. You signed up to donate,” Jessica reminded her.

  “I remember no such thing.” Lillian turned to Emily. “Did you forge my signature?”

  “Of course not. We were at coffee hour a few weeks ago, and Sophie Potter came by with a list. Don’t you remember?”

  “Was that what I signed up for? I thought I was ordering poinsettia plants.”

  “I think you signed up for that, too.”

  “That’s it, then. There’s been a misunderstanding. I think you should run along, find some other house to ransack.”

  Emily ignored her, scanning the room for possible contributions. Their mother was the undisputed knickknack queen. The mantel, bookcases, and china cabinets were stocked with rummage-worthy items. But just when you thought you’d found a dusty, forgotten trinket she would never miss, Lillian suddenly decided it was her absolute favorite, a precious necessity.

  Jessica put the carton on a library table along with a pile of newspapers. “Where shall we start?” she asked brightly.

  “In your own house, if you know what’s good for you!”

  “Mother, be reasonable,” Emily said. “You have so much stuff here, things you’ll never use in a hundred years. Those china birds, all these old books—it’s all going to a good cause.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. The problem with you girls is that you have no sentimental attachment to things. You would just put it all out on the street if I let you. What’s the difference? You probably will anyway when I die.”

  Emily rolled her eyes and glanced at her sister. “You’ve guessed our secret plan again, Mother. A combo garage sale and wake to commemorate your passing.”

  “Very
witty, Emily. I’m very amused.” Lillian sniffed and drew a lace-trimmed hankie from the pocket of her cardigan.

  “I would think that you and your sister would value some of these items as mementos of our family. Those old books, for instance. Some are rare editions, first printings, and quite valuable. I’ve set aside a few for Sara and planned to give you some, too. Your fiancé might appreciate them, even you don’t. . . . You are still marrying Dan Forbes, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am.” Emily watched her mother’s slow, careful pace across the room, wondering if it was the right time to disclose her plans. Too bad her mother wasn’t still sitting down.

  “We haven’t heard much about it lately. Have you set a date? Or will I simply receive my invitation in the mail and find out the specifics with the rest of the guests?”

  Jessica seemed interested now as well. Emily felt them both waiting for her answer.

  “Well . . . Dan and I talked it over some more and we’ve decided on a very small affair. Just the immediate family and dinner or lunch at a nice restaurant afterward. Something very simple and uncomplicated.”

  Emily could see that Jessica was surprised to hear about the revised plans but was trying not to show it. Emily had meant to tell her about the change, but it was just last night that she had agreed to keep the wedding as small as Dan wanted.

  “That sounds nice. Very . . . intimate,” Jessica said cheerfully. “Why go crazy planning a big party? You have so many other things to think about right now—”

  “Yes, keep it simple, Emily. We all know you have such a busy schedule.” Her mother’s tone was chiding. “Will the ceremony be performed during a lunch hour? Or right at your desk?”

  “Mother, you’re being silly now.” Emily sat down on the couch. She could see that her plan to forage here for the rummage sale had hit a major snag.

  “I’m being silly? You’re being absurd. The last I heard, it was going to be a medium-sized gathering with a cocktail party, at your sister’s house out there in the woods.”

  Had she told her mother about that phase of the planning? Emily recalled that she had and regretted it now.

  “The guest list just got too long,” she explained. “We couldn’t seem to trim it. And Dan doesn’t want a big party.”

  “Yes, I remember. He has this aversion to talking to people—funny trait for a former reporter. Meanwhile, he gives your situation no consideration. You still have a position in this town, a reputation,” her mother reminded her. “You can’t get married in secret, as if you’re ashamed of the match or are too socially inept to plan a decent party. The next thing you’ll tell me is that we’re all going to meet at the Clam Box, for fried fish sandwiches.”

  “Perfect. Why didn’t I think of that?” Emily smiled at her own joke, though she noticed her mother did not join in. “We still haven’t booked the restaurant. Maybe Charlie Bates has the date open.”

  “Always a comedienne, aren’t you?” Lillian shook her head and sat back down on her chair again.

  Her mother had gone off on a tangent, which was really no surprise. The problem was, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

  Though Emily had agreed to go forward with the minimalist wedding Dan preferred, she knew in her heart it was not what she really wanted. She glanced at Jessica, who had come over now, too, to sit with them. She was sure her sister somehow sensed this but wouldn’t give her away here in front of their mother.

  “If this is what they both want, Mother, then that’s what they should have. We should all attend and enjoy ourselves.” Jessica sent Emily a sympathetic look. “You can always have a big party later when you get back from your trip.”

  “That’s what Dan said. We think that might be easier. We’ll have more time to plan something nice. We don’t really have enough time to plan a big wedding now, and we can’t delay the trip.”

  Emily noticed a small china dish on the lamp table. She picked it up and turned it over to check its pedigree. Her mother leaned forward with surprising speed and snatched it from her hand.

  “The trip, the trip, the trip!” Her mother sat back in her seat with a long, dramatic sigh. “Well, maybe you should get married on that ship. The captain can perform the ceremony. You don’t need us there.”

  “Mother, you know that’s not the kind of sailing trip we’re going on. There won’t be any captain, except for Dan.”

  “That’s just the problem.” Lillian thumped with her cane again. “You defer to him too much. It’s a very bad precedent to set, believe me. It’s probably your age. You’re afraid to stand up for yourself, afraid you’ll scare him off—”

  “Mother! What in the world are you going on about?” Jessica demanded.

  “All things considered, I never thought your sister would marry again, did you?”

  Emily could see that Jessica was about to defend her, and she quickly jumped in. “I’ve been single a long time; there’s no denying it. But marriage is all about compromise. Dan and I are very eager to start a life together. I think we’ve figured out that the way we get married isn’t that important to us. As long as we have our family with us to celebrate, we know it will be a perfect day.”

  “Of course it will. Just tell me if there’s anything at all you want me to do, Emily.” Jessica gave their mother a stern look, defying her to continue the argument.

  Lillian sighed and settled back in her seat, like an old queen who has been overruled by her advisors. She turned the china dish over in her hands and slipped on her glasses to take a closer look. “Lenox . . . hmm. Not bad but fairly mundane. I suppose you can have it for your good cause . . . and some of those books, too, though I need to check the copyright before you cart them off.” She thrust the dish toward Emily without meeting her eye. “Don’t you dare touch the china closet in the dining room.”

  “We won’t, Mother. Don’t worry.” Emily came to her feet and shot Jessica a look; it was time to gather what they could before their mother changed her mind again.

  She hadn’t planned on announcing her wedding plans tonight. But now that it had all come out, Emily felt relieved. Maybe a small wedding wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but Dan was right: it was the logical, sensible solution. Once she’d agreed, he seemed so happy and relieved. That was the important thing . . . wasn’t it?

  LEIGH FORCED HERSELF TO HOLD ON UNTIL THE WAITING ROOM WAS empty. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. She had been trying all day to ignore her discomfort, telling herself she was just tired and feeling the symptoms of a late-term pregnancy. But she couldn’t ignore it any longer. Something just wasn’t right.

  “Nancy?” Leigh waved the nurse over and tried not to sound alarmed. “Could you watch the desk for a few minutes?”

  Nancy had been standing at the nearby counter, filling out a chart. She stepped over and looked down at Leigh, her expression concerned. “You don’t look so good. What’s up?”

  Leigh shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ve just been so tired all day. A little dizzy, too . . . and now I seem to have cramps.”

  “Any bleeding?”

  Leigh shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Here, let me help you to an exam room. You lie down and rest and I’ll get Dr. Harding.”

  “All right. Thanks,” Leigh added as she leaned on Nancy’s strong arm for support.

  “It’s probably nothing, but I want to check your blood pressure and temperature. Dr. Harding will come listen to the baby’s heartbeat. You do have an OB-GYN around here, don’t you?”

  Leigh nodded. “Dr. Olin, in Hamilton.”

  “She’s good, one of the best around.” Nancy helped Leigh lie down on a cot in one of the exam rooms, then felt Leigh’s forehead with her hand.

  Leigh’s fears were beginning to get the best of her. “I hope there’s nothing wrong with the baby. Do you think it’s something bad, Nancy?”

  “Well, you look like you’re retaining water and you might have a temperature. I’ll check in a second. You just res
t a minute. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back with Dr. Harding,” she said in a gentle tone. Leigh noticed Nancy had not answered her question.

  Left alone in the dimly lit room, Leigh tried to close her eyes, but another cramp came and she curled her knees closer to her chest, feeling a sudden wave of panic.

  Please God, don’t let there be anything wrong with the baby. If I lose her this way, I don’t know what I’ll do. . . .

  “I WOULD TAKE HER MYSELF BUT I CAN’T LEAVE THE OFFICE.”

  “I understand.” James glanced at Matt, unable to focus completely on what the doctor had just said. He paused in the waiting room and looked around for Leigh. “I’m glad you called me. Where is she?”

  “She’s back here resting.” Matt started toward the exam rooms and James followed.

  Of course she was lying down. She felt sick. She wouldn’t be sitting at the desk taking phone calls. He had to pull himself together. He didn’t want to look panicked. That wouldn’t do her any good right now.

  He was normally so calm and collected in an emergency. He had faced down some real calamities at the mission—fires, hurricanes, scores of medical emergencies. He didn’t understand his reaction today. Maybe it was the malaria that was causing him to feel so easily shaken—or maybe it was his feelings for Leigh and her baby.

  Matt knocked softly, then opened the door to a small exam room. “Leigh, it’s just me. James is here. He’s going to take you to your obstetrician. I’ve called her and told her what’s going on.”

  Leigh was lying down on a leather cot. She had her eyes shut tightly, as if against pain. At the sound of Matt’s voice she opened her eyes and looked up, clearly surprised to see him.

  “James? I thought Matt called Vera.”

  “She was out and I picked up the phone.” He sat by her bed and pulled his chair closer. He had an urge to take her hand but that didn’t seem right somehow. She looked so pale, her eyes ringed by dark shadows. She turned her head but didn’t try to sit up, and that worried him.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.