“But you are good with kids,” she says, reaching for the lemonade the waitress has brought.
He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, nodding. “I like kids. I think they’re awesome.”
“So maybe one day you’ll have your own.”
“Maybe.” He cocks his head, looking at her. “And maybe someday you’ll have your own. Someday you’ll look at a guy and think he’s pretty cute and you’ll want to marry him.”
She recoils, her eyes opening in horror at the thought of it. “Yuck!”
“You say yuck now but one day, you never know, you might meet a boy and fall in love. Or, you might remain single and have a full, awesome life.”
She raises her hand to stop him from talking. “I’m going single all the way.” Gabe laughs out loud as the food arrives. “Is your life full and awesome?” He spreads mayonnaise on the top bun, looking at her. “You’re single. Is your life full and awesome?”
He presses the bun back down onto his hamburger. “I heard you the first time. I’m just wondering when you became a talk show host.”
She bites into her burger. “What’s a talk show host?”
“It’s a person on TV who gets all up in people’s business, asking them questions.”
“Do they get paid?”
He nods, chewing. “Yes! Way too much money.”
“I’m in!”
He pounds the table, laughing. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“You are relentless. Yes. I think my life is awesome. But it could be fuller. How’s that for an answer, Dr. Maddie?”
“It’s good. One day you’ll have to work on the fuller part.”
He stares at her. “Hmm. That’s deep. Too bad I can’t take you seriously with that blob of ketchup on your chin.”
She reaches for her napkin and swipes at it. He knows what would make his life full, but he doesn’t dare think about it.
EIGHTEEN
Patricia Anderson straightens the papers in front of her and puts them into a manila folder before handing them to Amy across her kitchen table. “I’ll send these to you electronically as well, but these will be your hard copies. Do you have any questions?”
Amy sucks in air, making a sound of astonishment. “So everything’s done?”
Patricia nods, completing her thought. “All of your paperwork is in order. Your training is done. Your home is lovely. The names that you provided gave you raving recommendations, as did Gloria and, as far as I’m concerned, if Gloria recommends someone as a foster parent, then I listen.”
Amy sighs. “Suddenly, I’m nervous.”
Patricia smiles, soft lines crinkling at the corners of her eyes. She’s been a social worker for longer than she hasn’t. It has been her life and her passion. “The nerves will go away. Trust me.”
“You’ve met with other nervous potential foster parents?”
Patricia laughs. “I was one of those nervous potential foster parents! My husband Mark and I had lost our son.” She doesn’t allow Amy time to respond and says, “The grief took me…” She stops, trying to find a sentence to cobble together but can’t, shaking her head. “It nearly destroyed me. It was destroying my marriage and we were nearly done but, thankfully, there were two little girls in different circumstances who needed parents, and God knew that we needed them.”
“How old were they?”
Patricia smiles, pulling out her phone to show a picture. “Five and two. Emily’s ten now and Mia is seven, but I was a wreck those first few nights with Emily.”
Amy is careful how she phrases this next question. “Was there ever any difference in your love for—”
Patricia answers before Amy finishes. “At first, yes, because I was their social worker. I loved each of them as one of ‘my kids,’” she says, making air quotes with her fingers. “I love all the kids that I help. I’m very protective. They’re ‘my kids.’ But once they were in my home, something changed. They were no longer ‘my kids,’ they were MY kids. Not all foster parents feel that way, because they know that they are fostering a child until he or she can be returned to the home of his or her own parent or parents. But that wasn’t the situation for either of our girls. There wasn’t a home to return to for either of them, and once Emily and Mia were in our home, I couldn’t think of them going anywhere else because they were mine. They were ours.” She shifts in her chair and raps her fingers on the table. “Are you looking to simply foster a child that will be reunited with the biological parent, or are you thinking of something lasting?”
Amy scratches her head, shaking it as she does. “When I started all this I thought of it as being something temporary but over the last couple of weeks I’ve been feeling…” She searches for the words. “I’ve been feeling that I’m ready to be a mom. I was ready several years ago but then the rug got pulled out from under me and I put all those thoughts on the back burner.”
“But now the flames are burning higher and the water’s about to boil over.”
Amy laughs. “Exactly! I just don’t know if I’m really ready.”
“No parent is ever really ready but I’ve met a lot of parents who aren’t as ready as you. Any child would feel safe and blessed to be in this home with you.”
Amy pushes a crumb onto the floor, swiping her hand back and forth over the tabletop in front of her. “I know there are kids at Glory’s Place in foster care and if one of them ever needs a home I’d like to help.”
Patricia stands, gathering her coat and purse from the back of the chair. “If a child becomes available, you’ll be one of the first to know.”
Amy walks her to the front door, opening it. “Thank you so much, Patricia. You’ve made this feel very easy for me.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Amy waves as Patricia gets into her car; she seems to feel her heart pressing against her ribs. She closes the front door and surveys her living room. Before long, there will be a child sharing this space with her. She moves down the hall to the spare bedroom and stands inside the doorway, looking inside. The small antique desk her parents gave her sits on the opposite wall; a vase of dried flowers and a Tiffany-style banker’s lamp are positioned just so on the top. The lines of the maple chest of drawers and bed are clean and simple, as are the white comforter and pillows. Everything is neat, tidy, and orderly, much like the life Amy has created for herself in the last six years. She has managed to put together an existence without the intrusion of heartache and kept any sort of untidiness outside her door. She knows that once she opens her home to a child, her heart will be invaded once again and life will be messy, sometimes very messy. She walks into the room, pondering the thought.
NINETEEN
Grandon Dress and Formal called Lauren that afternoon and told her her dress had arrived. When Amy heard the news she offered to complete Lauren’s shift that evening so that she could get to the shop before it closed. “I can get it tomorrow,” Lauren said.
Amy put her hand on her hip. “Why would you do that? You know that you’re dying with excitement to see it, so go!”
“But it’s so late for you to stay.”
Amy waved her hand in the air as she walked away. “I’m not listening to you anymore. I’m staying.”
The store closes at six so Lauren leaves Glory’s Place at five thirty. It’s already dark outside; this season feels so long with darkness creeping in so early but she doesn’t mind it today. The streetlamps are wrapped in evergreen and a banner stretches across the street, announcing the annual Christmas parade. She drives around the square and looks for the star above the gazebo—grateful that someone decided to buy a star so Travis could place it there for everyone to see—but it’s not lit up. She’s grown accustomed to seeing the light each time she drives around the square and thinks of how naked the gazebo looks tonight without the dazzle of the star. A parking space is available in front of Betty’s Bakery and she pulls in, walking the block to the dress shop.
The bell jingles, announcing her arriv
al inside the store, and the same salesperson who had helped her days earlier smiles amid the dresses. “You’re Lauren, right?”
“Someone called me today and said my dress is in.”
“It’s right here,” the woman says, walking behind the counter. It’s not hanging in a bag or packaged neatly inside a box, as Lauren had expected, but is displayed in full view, taking her breath away. “We always like for our brides to see the dress before we cover it up. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Lauren nods. “It’s actually more beautiful than I remembered.” The saleswoman lifts it off the rack and hands it to Lauren. “Wow! I can’t believe this is mine.”
The woman smiles as she takes it back from her and gently places it inside a dress bag with the Grandon Dress and Formal logo on the front. “You’ll be a beautiful bride.” She walks around the counter, handing the dress to Lauren. “If it needs altering in any way, you just call us so we can schedule an appointment with the seamstress. Congratulations!”
Lauren leaves the store, beaming. Her steps are hurried as she walks down the sidewalk, the cold air makes her lungs catch. She can’t wait to show Stacy and Gloria and Miriam. She’s never been a girly girl, and never thought she would be excited about wearing a dress, but the weight of this dress over her arm, and what it means to her, nearly makes her giddy, and she’s far from a giddy person! As she approaches her car, she looks over at the gazebo; the star on top that wasn’t lit when she went inside the dress shop is now spreading fingers of light across the square. Her eye catches the young woman who was standing there the day the star was put into place; the one she’s since seen at the dress shop and then at Wilson’s. Lauren crosses the street and approaches her. Even though her knit cap is pulled tightly over her ears, the woman’s cheeks are flushed from being in the cold. The woman notices Lauren and slips her hands into her pockets, pulling out gloves.
“Did you get it to light up again?” Lauren asks, pointing to the star.
The woman nods. “I shook the cord on the side of the gazebo. May be a little short in it somewhere.” She’s looking up at the star and the glow from it illuminates her face. “I’ll let someone at the parks department know.”
Lauren shifts the dress to the other arm. “I saw you here that day when you were helping to put it up.”
The woman turns to look at her. “Not helping. Just watching. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Lauren smiles. “It is. I love it!”
“It was my dad’s idea. He thought of it in October and was really excited about it but then he was diagnosed with cancer and…” She looks up at the star again. “He died eleven days later. My mom and sister and I just had to put this up for him.” She turns to look at Lauren. “No matter the expense, you know? He loved Christmas! He loved it so much that I wanted to get married at Christmas.” She turns her face to the star, shaking her head.
Lauren peers up at it. “It’s a beautiful tribute.” She pauses, looking at the woman. “I’m so sorry that you lost your dad.”
Tears swim in her eyes. “Me too. I’m twenty-six years old but I don’t feel old enough to lose a parent.” She notices the dress bag over Lauren’s arm and uses that as a means to change the subject. “Special occasion coming up?”
Lauren nods, choking back emotion. “My wedding. My fiancé, Travis, was actually the one who put the star up there,” she says, pointing.
“Really? That was your fiancé? He was so nice. Funny too. He kept saying ‘If I start to fall, run over here and catch me.’ It was kind of an emotional day, for my mom especially, and he was just very kind to us. You’re very lucky to be marrying someone like him.”
“I agree,” Lauren says, feeling tears begin to form.
“My fiancé is also a kind and funny guy. Guess we’re two of the lucky ones. I’m Mandy, by the way.”
“Lauren.”
Mandy lifts her hand to wave. “Nice to meet you, and again, congratulations! I hope you have a great wedding.” She turns to walk to her car.
“You too.” Lauren turns and feels the wind against her face. She heads toward her car but stops, glancing back at Mandy. “Mandy!” she yells. Mandy turns to look at her. Lauren pauses as her heart pounds in her ears. She lifts the dress off her arm. “I…” She steps closer. “You and I look about the same size.” Mandy’s smile fades. “I would really like you to have this dress for your wedding.”
“Wha…? No!”
“Please don’t say no. The gift for your dad on top of this gazebo has made Grandon shine. You’ve honored him in such a beautiful way. I mean, look at that! It’s a bright star in a night sky! How many towns have something that beautiful? I believe that you would also honor your dad if you were to wear a beautiful dress on your wedding.”
Mandy shakes her head. “I can’t. I have a dress.”
“But is it the one your dad would want you to have? He wanted you to have one, right?” Lauren can see Mandy’s eyes glistening.
“This … I can’t. It’s yours and…”
“My friend Gloria tells me to hold things loosely but people close. I never had a tight hold on this dress. My hold is on Travis and Gloria and Dalton and Heddy and Stacy and the kids at Glory’s Place, and Miriam, whom I’m going to have to explain all of this to, but I love her anyway.” She begins to laugh and Mandy laughs out loud with her. She steps to Mandy. “Please take it.” Mandy covers her mouth; she is speechless. Lauren places the dress in her arms and hugs her. “I hope you have a beautiful wedding and a wonderful life together.”
Mandy is overwhelmed as she hugs her back, tears rolling down her face. “Thank you doesn’t sound like enough.”
“I think the same thing when I see that star.”
TWENTY
Amy drives past Betty’s Bakery as she heads for home, but something catches her eye and makes her drive around the town square again, passing Betty’s for a second time. There it is. Gabe’s truck. She starts to drive away but something in her makes her slowly drive that loop around the square for a third time, and she pulls up in front of the restaurant, holding tight to the steering wheel. She remains here for several minutes, staring at the restaurant door as people come and go, battling with herself over what she’s doing here. She rests her forehead on the steering wheel before turning off the engine. When she enters Betty’s, she inhales a combination of smells—savory soups, pot roast, and mulled cider—and realizes how hungry she is; it’s after seven thirty and she has normally eaten something by now. Gabe catches her eye from a booth and he waves, standing up. She takes off the hood of her jacket and walks to him, shoving her gloves inside the pockets. “So weird seeing you here again,” he says.
She shrugs off the coincidence. “Just picking up something for Gloria again. Are you eating?”
“I was supposed to be meeting Travis but Lauren called him and said something came up that she wanted to tell him and Gloria about.”
She nods. “I’m sure it was about her dress. I worked late for her so that she could go pick it up.”
Gabe glances down at the table. “You’re welcome to join me if you haven’t eaten.”
Amy purses her lips, thinking, as her head bobs up and down. “I’m really hungry and that sounds…”
She doesn’t finish and Gabe says, “I haven’t ordered yet so…”
They sit facing each other in the booth and Amy picks up the menu, looking it over. “Hard to believe that the wedding day is so close.”
“Right. A little less than a month away.”
She sets the menu down. “They don’t seem nervous. That’s good.”
“Were you nervous?”
She looks at him. “I wasn’t. I was ready because I was marrying the man I wanted to live with for the rest of my life.” His mouth turns up in a sad smile. “I didn’t mean for that to make you sad. I just remember that day so clearly because I wasn’t nervous. It’s not a sad memory for me. I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “No. You don’t need to apologize.
That day isn’t a sad memory for me either, but something inside me knew I wasn’t the man that you deserved. Even then, I knew what I needed to do to be a man, but I didn’t do those things. I thought that marrying this amazing woman would somehow make everything right with my world.”
She leans on the table. “I’m really glad that everything seems right with your world now, Gabe.”
He chuckles, running his fingers through his hair. “It took God awhile but, thankfully, He’s persistent. I knew that if I wanted to live I needed to get sober.”
“And you did.”
“With a lot of help, yeah.”
“And you have a job that you seem to like.”
He smiles. “I do.”
“And before you know it you’ll be teaching inside a classroom. Will you stay at Grandon?”
He picks up the napkin and begins to fold it over and over on the table. “I hope there’s a spot for me when I graduate. I really want to teach there.”
“I didn’t ask before … when will you graduate?”
“I have two semesters left.”
She shakes her head. “I had no idea.”
He shrugs. “There hasn’t been a lot of time to … catch up.”
They give their orders to the waitress and Amy sips her club soda. “I saw you drop Maddie off the other day. She hugged you and…” She turns her head to look out over the tables. “She trusts you, Gabe. She’s crazy about you.”
He shrugs. “I seem to be more charming to little girls.”
“That’s not true. Big girls find you charming too.”
She holds his gaze and his heart skips a beat, wondering if what he’s sensing could possibly be true. Gabe feels as if he’s floating off his seat and grabs the end of the table, hanging on. “Somehow that little girl makes me want to be a better man.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what it is, but every time I’m around her I think that I just need to be a good, good man for her.”
“And you are.”
An hour into their conversation, he realizes he’s barely touched his food. Amy’s plate is nearly full as well. If Gabe has to order three more meals in order to hold on to this table and this moment with Amy, he’ll do it!
The Christmas Star Page 10