A Midnight Miracle

by Gary Parker

  He nodded and she continued. “You told Nelson you didn’t like preachers. Yet I know for a fact that your mom loved the Lord, the church, everything about it. What happened to you? Your dad too; I hardly ever see him in church.”

  “It’s a long story,” he said. “Not sure I’ve got time before I take you home.”

  “My mom’s probably got the cops looking for me already. A few more minutes won’t hurt.”

  He rubbed his chin as if thinking about confiding in her but then shook his head. “Let’s just say I had faith a long time ago,” he said. “As much as anybody. But . . . well . . . things happened.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  Sadness filled his eyes, and she wondered what lay behind it. She reached for his hands, but he pulled them away and put them in his pockets. “It’s not worth talking about,” he said.

  “Maybe it is.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Someday?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I can tell it hurt you,” she said.

  “The Lord’s got a lot of explaining to do someday,” he said. “Leave it at that. And eat your steak.”

  Seeing he would say nothing else, she picked up her fork and started to work on the steak, but for the most part her appetite failed her. When they left about forty-five minutes later, neither she nor Rem had eaten much of anything. Rem drove her to her car at the day care center, both of them saying little. When he pulled to a stop, she reached quickly for the door handle, but he touched her back and she faced him.

  “I’d like to see you again,” he said. “Maybe tomorrow afternoon?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve day. It’ll be so busy.”

  “Christmas day then?”

  She shook her head. He wasn’t a believer. No reason to let herself get interested in a man like Rem. “I have to see Mom, then Dad. We do it every year.”

  “Then when?” he asked.

  She thought a second. “Come to Christmas Eve service tomorrow night,” she suggested. “I’ll sit with you after the choir sings.”

  “Not my idea of a date,” he said. “And won’t it ruin your reputation?”

  “I’ll just tell people I was trying to lead you to the Lord.”

  “I’m sure they’ll believe you.”

  “So you’ll come?”

  “Let me think about it.”

  Her face lit up at the possibility, and she suddenly felt more hopeful than she had in a long time. Rem leaned closer, his eyes bright. She held her breath, not sure what to do.

  “Is it okay if I kiss you?” he asked matter-of-factly.

  “I don’t know; I haven’t kissed a man in a long time.”

  “It’s like riding a bike. Once you’ve done it, you don’t forget.”

  Confused, she dropped her eyes. She wanted to kiss him but saw no point in it. Why start up something that held no future? Yet what could a small Christmas flirtation hurt? She faced him again, her heart racing. “I’ve ridden a bike a few times,” she said.

  “You think you remember how?”

  “Shut up and see,” she said.

  He kissed her, his lips soft. At first she stayed stiff, afraid. But he felt so strong and smelled so warm, like the fireplace at the restaurant. In spite of the warning bells in her head, she closed her eyes and relaxed into his arms. He touched her face, her hair and ears. His fingers were smooth and gentle. She shivered under them. He eased off the kiss and pulled back.

  “You ride a bike real well,” he whispered.

  “Glad I haven’t forgotten how,” she murmured.

  “Me too.”

  Silence fell on the car for several seconds. Jenna took a deep breath. “I expect I need to go now,” she said.

  “You sure?”

  “No, but I think it’s best. Come to church tomorrow, 11 p.m.”

  “I’ll call and let you know.”

  “You’ll be there.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She left him, her heart pounding, her mind awhirl.

  9

  Rem woke the next morning to the sound of the William Tell Overture. Confused, he jumped up, looked around, then realized it was his cell phone. “Yeah,” he mumbled as he answered.

  “It’s Lisa.”

  Boomer walked through his bedroom door and padded over to him.

  “What time is it?” he yawned into the phone.

  “After eight. You still asleep?”

  Rem scratched Boomer’s head. “What’s going on?” he asked Lisa.

  “You’ve got to come back to Atlanta,” she said.

  Rem plopped down on the bed. “Don’t think so,” he said. “I’ve made my decision.”

  “Good.”

  “Yeah, stayed up late last night thinking. I want to sell.”

  “Really?” She sounded surprised.

  “Yeah, their offer made sense. It’ll leave us about a million apiece, clean and clear. I need some time to clear my head, decide what I want to do when I grow up.”

  “I wish it was that simple,” Lisa said. “But Stanfield called me this morning.”

  “So?” Rem wakened further.

  “She’s added a condition to the sale. Said when she got back to her office yesterday, her boss chewed her out, demanded this or the deal’s off.”

  Rem walked to the window and gazed out. Gray clouds hung low, and frost covered the glass. It looked like snow might fall before night. Boomer nuzzled up to his knee. “What’s the condition?” Rem asked.

  “Stanfield says you’ve got to come with the deal—a three-year commitment. You stay on to manage the development of the software, clean up the last of the bugs, make sure it’s ready for market.”

  Rem rubbed his eyes again. Stanfield’s request made sense, but he knew without debate he didn’t want to do it. He’d spent close to twelve hours a day almost every day since college dealing with computer software in one way or another, and the thought of continuing that for three more years set his teeth on edge. It might be okay if he was his own boss, but coming and going with somebody looking over his shoulder made his skin crawl. More than ever he realized he needed a change, something to refresh his body and soul, give him a chance to get a grip on his future.

  “I can’t do it,” he told Lisa. “Tell Stanfield you’ll take my place; you know as much about the program as I do.”

  “I don’t think she’ll like that.”

  “She’s got no choice.”

  “But she does, and you and I both know it.”

  Rem chewed on a thumbnail for a second. This wasn’t what he wanted to do today. “Let me think a minute,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  Rem carried the phone toward the kitchen, and Boomer followed him. Rem smelled bacon as he entered and saw Roscoe standing over a skillet full of bacon frying on the stove. He moved to his dad and peered over his shoulder. Roscoe turned and pointed a spatula at him but didn’t speak. Rem walked to the window. The mountains loomed in the distance. “You sure Stanfield is set on seeing me today?” he asked Lisa.

  “Dead sure.”

  “Okay,” he said. “But she’s going to hear the same thing I just told you. I’m going to sell but not stay on. I want some space from Atlanta for a while.”

  “Tell it to Stanfield.”

  “I think there’s a ten o’clock flight. See you about noon.”

  “At the airport.”

  Rem hung up and looked at Boomer. “Weird,” he said.

  Boomer tilted his head as if to ask, “What?”

  “I’ve decided to sell something I thought was more important than anything else, but I’m not sad at all.”

  Boomer smiled with pleasure.

  “I’m the opposite of sad,” Rem said. “I’m . . . I’m free . . .”

  Boomer panted happily, and Rem faced his dad.

  “I got to go to Atlanta,” he said. “But I plan to come back later today, maybe go to church tonight. You think I can hang around
here for a few weeks after that, maybe longer?”

  Roscoe faced him. “What’s bringing you back here all of a sudden?”

  “Maybe I want more time to share sterling conversation with you.”

  Roscoe faced the skillet again. “Yeah, I thought that was it.”

  Rem smiled and stepped to his dad. “You keep eating bacon like this and you’ll be dead soon.”

  “Always the encourager, aren’t you?”

  Rem put a hand on his dad’s shoulder, and Roscoe turned to him.

  “I’m coming back,” Rem said, seriously this time. “For a lot of reasons; spending some time with you is one of the biggest ones.”

  Roscoe arched an eyebrow. “You’re acting weird today.”

  “Yeah, but good weird, don’t you think?”

  “Woman weird is what I think,” Roscoe said. “You’re sweet on Jenna Newsome, aren’t you?”

  Rem shook his head. “It’s not that way.”

  “No,” Roscoe said, facing his bacon again. “I’m sure it’s not.”

  Rem smiled. He’d go to Atlanta one more time, then come back to Hilltop to figure out what he wanted to do next. Heck, he might stay here a long time. Who knew?

  The morning passed like a pleasant blur for Jenna. She awoke just past 7:30, a warm glow pulsing through her body from memories of last night. After eating a quick breakfast, she hurried out to finish some last-minute errands—a stop at the beauty shop to trim her hair and have her nails done; a trip to the grocery store for a few side dishes to go with the turkey she’d already bought; a run by the church to leave Nelson and Julie their Christmas present, a piece from the Dickens Christmas Village she knew they collected. Everything seemed to sparkle as she moved through her tiny town—the Christmas lights seemed brighter, the smell of the air crisper, the sound of the carols clearer. A wide smile stayed on her face all morning, and although she knew she shouldn’t let herself get too carried away over a man as temporary as Rem, she wallowed happily in her emotions. She liked him, plain and simple, and felt confident he liked her. So what if he’d disappear in less than twenty-four hours? Atlanta wasn’t that far away.

  Finished with her errands, Jenna headed to her mom’s to leave the groceries so Margaret could start preparing tomorrow’s dinner. Although Jenna had offered for years to help with the cooking, her mom always refused.

  “Christmas dinner is a mom’s task,” Margaret always asserted. “You bring the food, I’ll cook it.”

  Her arms full of grocery sacks, Jenna pushed through the back door. “I’m here!” she yelled as she entered the kitchen. “Got the trimmings for the turkey!”

  She placed the groceries on the table as her mom entered. “Hey, Mom,” Jenna said brightly, moving to give Margaret a hug.

  Her mom stopped before she reached her, her face as frozen as an ice sculpture. Jenna hugged her quickly, but her mom didn’t return the hug. Jenna stepped back, her nerves suddenly tight as she realized the problem. “Did Dad come by or something?” she asked.

  “No,” Margaret said.

  “Then what’s going on?”

  Margaret wiped her hands on her apron and moved to the coffeepot on the stove. “Nothing,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Jenna sighed, weary from the drama in her mother’s words. Although she had a suspicion about the cause of Margaret’s attitude, she hoped she was wrong. Either way, she had to find out. She wanted things cleared up before Christmas.

  “Have a seat,” Jenna offered, pulling out a chair. “Tell me the problem.”

  Margaret brought her coffee and sat down. Jenna took a spot across from her. “We don’t have time for our usual theatrics,” Jenna started. “So go ahead and let me hear it.”

  “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Margaret started, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

  “No, but I’ve got a lot to do and so do you. Christmas is tomorrow, and I don’t want this hanging over us all day. So let’s get this over with.”

  Margaret sipped her coffee as if having tea with the queen of England, then placed her cup in its saucer. “You were out late last night.” She sniffed. “Past midnight; I know because I called you three times, the last time at twelve.”

  Jenna rubbed her eyes; just as she’d guessed. “I went to Asheville for dinner,” she said. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “You went with Rem Lincoln, didn’t you?”

  “What if I did?” Jenna’s face flushed with anger at having to explain. “Since when is it a crime to go to dinner with a man?”

  Margaret sipped coffee again. “It’s not a crime,” she said. “But you have a reputation in this town, and so do I. Running around with a man like Lincoln will wreck your name.”

  Jenna balled her fists and stood, her eyes flashing heat. “I’m thirty years old!” she stammered, unwilling to placate her mom any longer. “I’d think you’d want me on a date, Rem Lincoln or not. What’s wrong with what I did? Tell me that. Where’s the harm, the sin?”

  “No sin,” Margaret said. “But I worried about you when I couldn’t get you, especially so late.”

  Jenna sat back down, her blood steaming. She’d come to the end of her rope, and her mom might as well know it. Maybe it would ruin Christmas, but so what? She’d spent tons of time and energy in the last few years trying to please her mother yet had always come up short. Perhaps it was time to stand up to her.

  “Look,” she said, her hands flat on the table. “I’ve tried to honor you, listen to your advice. But where’s it gotten me? Nowhere, that’s where. I’m stuck in Hilltop—single, lonely, a failure. It’s time that changed.”

  Her voice rose as she continued. “Yeah, Rem Lincoln is probably headed out of here in a day or so. Big deal. If he wants to see me again, I’m going to see him, either here or in Atlanta. Yes, maybe I’ll even go down there, leave you here by yourself; I know that’s a shocker. But I’ve got to start living my own life, stop trying to fix yours and Dad’s. I’ve done that for a long time, but it’s got to stop. Can’t you see that, for my sake and yours too? I’ve got to break this cycle, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how afraid I am of doing it.”

  Slightly unnerved that she’d spoken so angrily, she paused to take a breath and give her mom a chance to respond.

  “That’s a long speech,” Margaret said, obviously untouched by it.

  Jenna shook her head. Talking to her mom sometimes felt like hitting a stone wall with a feather.

  “He had an affair, you know,” Margaret said.

  Jenna pulled back. “What?”

  “An affair—your dad.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Margaret brushed back her hair with both hands. “When you were eleven. A woman at his office. It went on for close to three years before I caught them. She had written him a nice little love note; he brought it home in a suit pocket. I found it, took it to him. He admitted it once I showed him the note.”

  “Dad had an affair?” The meaning slowly settled on Jenna, and she stood and walked to the window.

  “Yes, a dirty little secret I’ve kept from you.”

  Jenna’s breath shortened as her heart sank.

  “I stayed with him though,” Margaret said. “Stayed right through it, tried to make the marriage work. Didn’t want to destroy everything we’d built, our business, our friends. I thought we’d made it too; twelve years passed, and then he dared come and ask for a divorce. That’s the most amazing part. The boldness of the man, asking for a divorce from me! I’ll never forgive him for that.”

  Jenna faced her mom again as silence came to the room. Disappointment in her dad quickly ran through her, and she wanted to feel angry with him but found it impossible. It had happened so long ago, what good would anger do now? Another question came to mind. What relevance did her dad’s past transgression have to what she and her mom had been discussing? Confused, she walked back to her mom and stood over her. “Why didn’t you tell me this a long time ago
?” she asked.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you,” Margaret said, reaching for her hand. “You were so young, so fragile. No girl needs to hear such a thing about her father; about men, the way they are, the way they’ll hurt you.”

  “Then why are you telling me now?” Jenna asked.

  Margaret pursed her lips. “You know why,” she said.

  Jenna’s eyes steeled and she pulled away. “You’re trying to manipulate me,” she seethed. “Make me afraid of men, Rem or anybody else.”

  “No!” Margaret shouted, also standing now. “I’m trying to warn you! Keep you from making the same mistake I did. You’ve already suffered once; you know what a man can do to you—ruin your life!”

  “You’d rather I let you ruin it!” Jenna argued. “Let you dictate what happens to me!”

  “No!” Margaret countered. “I want you to find a husband if that’s what you want, I really do. But not a Rem Lincoln. I know the type; so do you. He’s probably got ten girlfriends, a different woman every night. He’s just like your dad—busy, hurried, tied to his work, all charm and smile, sweet words and cute looks. But inside he’s an empty shell. You know it as well as I do; he’ll never be there when you need him, never support you like he should. And he’s not even a believer. You know he’s not good for you.”

  Jenna clenched her jaw to ward off her mom’s words, but inwardly she also wondered if her mom had it right. Did Rem have scores of women? Would he hurt her? Did work keep him preoccupied? Would he ever claim any kind of faith?

  In her confusion, another thought hit her. Had her mom made up this tale about her dad? Was that possible? Yes, she realized. Although she knew her mom loved her, she also suspected it wasn’t beyond her to say such a thing if she thought it might bend Jenna to her will.

  “I need to go,” Jenna said suddenly. “I need time to consider all this.”

  Margaret touched her hand. “You do that,” she said. “You’ll realize I’m right.”

  Jenna turned to leave.

  “I do love you,” Margaret said.

  Jenna paused once more and faced her mom. “I know you do,” she said.