Sol gave C.J. the go-ahead to get inside the car and set the emergency brake before he unhooked the horses. At first, the car’s door handle was frozen, but one of the Amish neighbors gently pushed C.J. aside and cupped his mouth around the lock. He blew and blew on it, then pulled it again.
“Bingo!” the Amish man said, revealing missing molars in his large grin.
C.J. jumped into the driver’s seat, turned over the ignition once, then twice, and the engine caught! He looked at Jaime and gave her a thumbs-up, grinning when he saw the delighted look on her face.
As Jaime saw her car emerge out of the water—her beautiful new car—she felt almost giddy with happiness. She hoped that the sleigh might pack down the snow hard enough that they could follow behind it until they reached the main road. Surely, the roads would be cleared by snowplows soon. She felt a bloom of optimism from the thought and let out a deep, relieved sigh. They would be able to meet her father today in time to leave for the trip. Everything was back on track.
She saw C.J. talking to the Amish farmers, then he went back to the car and reached in to get her purse. He brought it to her.
“They’re debating what to do next.” He looked back at the group of bearded men, huddling together in a circle, listening carefully to each other. “They seem to feel a consensus is important before they take the next step.”
Jaime laughed. “Aren’t they wonderful to us, C.J.? One way or another, we’re going to make it on the cruise ship tomorrow. It’s a miracle!”
C.J. rolled his eyes. “Oh sure. I can’t think of anything more pressing on God’s agenda on this Christmas Eve than making sure we get on that cruise.”
While he kept his gaze on the group of farmers, Jaime took a step back. Then another. She stopped and scooped up a handful of snow, packing it into a ball. She heaved the snowball at C.J.’s head but missed and hit his back instead. He turned toward her with a startled look on his face. She bent over to gather more snow, straightened up, and fired a snowball that hit him on his chin. He looked at her, stunned, then broke into a smile. Slowly, he bent down and picked up some snow, then packed it into a hard ball.
He took a step toward her; she whirled to run, but the snow made her clumsy and she fell. C.J.’s snowball landed gently on the top of her head, making her shudder as the snow went down inside the open collar of her coat. She spat snow out of her mouth, shook it off her eyelashes and her hair. He came over to help her get up and she put her hands up to grab his, then released him so he fell down too. They looked at each other, and Jaime started to smile, then to laugh at the sight of C.J., toppled over. He started laughing too, and the two of them sat there, ridiculously, in the snow like a couple of kids, laughing so hard that tears rolled down their cheeks.
When had they last laughed like that? She couldn’t remember. But it felt so good.
C.J. reached over and gently brushed snow off Jaime’s face. His gaze fastened on her mouth. His hand stole up to frame her cheek, his thumb stroking the line of her jaw. Their breath entwined like white wedding ribbons in the air. As he lowered his head to kiss her, he caught sight of five Amish farmers and Danny, staring at the two of them sitting in the snow like a couple of kids.
He froze.
In the silence of that moment, he heard a strange ringing sound. The Amish men, including Danny, turned their heads in the direction of the sound. Could that possibly be . . . a cell phone? How could a cell phone have a signal out here in the middle of nowhere? It was coming from Jaime’s purse.
C.J. scrambled to his feet and grabbed her purse to toss to her. “I think your cell is ringing.”
He brushed the snow off his jacket and pants, shivering as he felt some snow slip down his back. He thought about trying to get into the car’s trunk to see if water had seeped in. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned toward Jaime. She handed him the cell phone with a strange, hard look on her face.
“It’s for you,” Jaime said coldly. “It’s Eve.”
Eve? How did she get Jaime’s cell phone number? “Hello?” he said warily.
“C.J.!” Eve said. “I’m so glad I caught you before you left on the cruise! Guess what?”
C.J. watched Jaime watching him. She looked steamed. “Um, Eve, I’m in a little bit of a predicament here. How did you get this number?”
“It’s your emergency number, for work. And this is an emergency!”
“What’s wrong?” He turned away from Jaime’s stare and lowered his voice. “Are you all right? Has something happened?”
“Yes, something has happened! You’ve been chosen as the district’s Teacher of the Year! You won, C.J! That means that now you’re a finalist for regionals, then state! Al found out yesterday and he would have called you himself, but he had that big family get-together, so he asked me to call you, and you don’t carry a cell phone so I had to find another way to reach you.” She finally took a breath. “You don’t mind, do you? Am I interrupting anything important?”
C.J. was stunned. He had been pleased his principal, Al, had wanted to nominate him for the award—Eve had spent hours helping to fill out the application this fall. He never dreamed he would win. Never! He was so sure he wouldn’t win that he didn’t even tell Jaime about it. He didn’t want her telling her father about it, only to have to face him if he lost. To C.J., getting nominated was enough.
Before he could even react, a click came through on call waiting. “Eve, that’s great news. Really great! Thanks for letting me know. I’ll get back to you. Merry Christmas!” He pressed the call waiting button. “Hello?”
Oh. Jaime’s father. He said a brief hello to James and handed the phone to Jaime. He turned back to see if the Amish farmers had decided if they were going to tow the car to the road or not. For a moment, though, he stood right where he was, letting Eve’s news sink in. Teacher of the Year! Me?!
Danny came up to him and pulled on his jacket sleeve to get his attention. He pointed a small finger toward Jaime, so C.J. spun around to face her.
Jaime had the receiver pressed against her ear. “Dad, the snowstorm kind of derailed us—it’s a long story, but I’ll fill you in later. We can still make it. There’s even time to meet the agent.” As she listened to her father, C.J. saw the enthusiasm drain from her face. “What does that mean? What do you mean, ‘some other time’? Why?” Her face went from looking worried to shocked. Then, horrified. “You’re getting married? Married? That’s the big surprise you had for me?” An expression of panic crossed over her as she listened. “Dad, why can’t you just wait? The car just got pulled—” She looked at C.J., dazed. “He hung up.”
C.J. forgot about the car and the Amish men and the Teacher of the Year recognition. He took a few steps closer to her. Her gaze was fixed on the phone she held in her hands.
“He’s at the airport,” she said quietly. “He and . . . Sheila, I think he said her name was. They’re leaving now, to beat the next storm. They’re getting married on the cruise. That’s his big surprise. Getting married. He’s leaving without me.”
She covered her face with her hands. Then she started to cry in a way that he had only seen her cry once or twice before—slowly at first, then louder and louder, shaking and sobbing. C.J. wrapped her up in his arms and held her, patting her back to console her.
At first, the bewildered look on the Amish men’s faces as they observed Jaime’s meltdown almost made C.J. laugh. It shouldn’t have struck him as funny, but it did. The somber worry on their kind, bearded faces, trying to help pry a car out of a frozen pond—when the Amish didn’t even drive cars.
C.J. saw Sol lift his shoulders helplessly and C.J. gave him the OK signal with his fingers. Sol turned and spoke to the others. It looked like they had come to a decision. They were going to drag the car down to the end of the lane, so it would be ready to go when the snowplows came through, he assumed. They seemed relieved to be doing something, talking to each other in their language. They must think that he and Jaime were . . . crazy. Crazy E
nglish people. Here she was, crying as if her heart was breaking. He didn’t blame them for being confused by Jaime’s weeping. How could he explain Jaime’s father to these gentle people? He hardly understood James MacComber himself.
What kind of father ignores his daughter most of her life? Then suddenly decides she’s worth paying attention to, after all. The kind of attention James paid usually left Jaime feeling conflicted and upset . . . about herself, about her work, about him.
And now James is getting married. It figured! What was this, wife number five?
It was good that his thoughts were hidden, C.J. realized. They were running along the lines of being delighted that the cruise was off. Overjoyed! And behind that was a deep-down lingering happiness that started when Jaime threw a snowball at him. They hadn’t had fun together in such a long time. He couldn’t even remember the last time they shared a laugh, the way they used to. How he missed her! He had lost her six months ago, when he wasn’t watching, and although it wasn’t his fault entirely, he didn’t want to lose her again.
Danny came up beside C.J. and whispered, “I have an idea to help. Can I take Tucker with me?”
C.J. nodded and Danny turned and ran up toward the house, with Tucker following close behind.
After the car was towed to the end of the long driveway, Sol helped his neighbors hook the sleigh traces back to the horse’s harness and waved goodbye as they disappeared down the street. He led Dixie into her stall and gave her a few handfuls of oats as a thank-you for helping pull that car out of the pond. Dixie mouthed Sol’s hands with her big lips, scattering oats over the ground. He made sure the water bucket was full, then checked the rest of the stock in the barn, as he always did. His last stop was with the ewe and lamb. He paused for a moment. A ray of sun beamed through the upper barn window and shone down on the pair, sleeping in a corner. It felt holy, that moment.
He lingered awhile longer, hoping the English woman was done with her wailing. At first, he thought someone had died, she was that overcome. But then he heard she was upset because her father left on that boat trip. It seemed odd to him that the father wouldn’t wait. He knew if his own father were in that spot, he would rather give up a trip than give up time with his family. He didn’t know if that was what set her off, but he was happy to get away from it.
Sol felt a little sorry for the English husband. He and Mattie were no strangers to sorrow, but he could never imagine her carrying on the way that English woman did.
Mattie! Suddenly he realized that he didn’t know where Danny was.
He picked up his hat and fit it snug. Just as he reached out to slide open the barn door, Zach beat him to it, carrying a large bundle of rope over his shoulder. Zach nodded at him and walked past him to hang the rope on the wall.
Sol kept a hand on the open door, looked back at Zach, let out a sigh, and closed the door shut. “Zach, let’s talk for a moment.”
A dull ache had spread through Jaime’s chest as her father’s intent became clear on the phone. She felt as if she had been hit by a tidal wave of grief, of longing.
Why did her father have that effect on her? More important, why did she let him? She pulled back from C.J. and wiped her face with her gloves. “I’m sorry, C.J. I wish I knew what was wrong with me. I’m such a mess.”
“Maybe it would be good to talk to someone.”
“Oh great. You mean, a shrink? You think I’m a mess too.” She crossed her arms against her chest.
“No, I don’t think you’re a mess. And I didn’t mean a shrink. Maybe, like a pastor. Or better still, God.”
She stepped back from him. Lately, things always circled back to church for C.J. They belonged to the Presbyterian church in Lancaster that they had been married in, but they had never been strict about attending. Jaime was certain God existed, but she wasn’t quite as certain that God knew she existed. She had never had much use for faith—not the way her mother relied on her faith, or C.J. was starting to rely on his—and the day her mother was killed, Jaime found her spiritual reserve empty. There was nothing to draw on.
“On the phone to your dad, you said something about meeting an agent.” C.J. looked at her suspiciously. “What was that about? What has your father promised you now?”
There was a pause. One beat. Then two. She was cornered. She had planned to tell C.J. about the photography agent friend of her father’s while they were driving to her father’s. Not now. Not like this.
C.J. took a step closer to Jaime. “Listen to me. Your father is all talk. No action.”
“My father has been incredibly generous to us!” She pointed to the car. “He bought me that car! He bought me the camera. He sends me flowers! He takes me shopping!”
“You’re defending him? Today? Just as he’s getting married to wife number twelve—”
“Four!”
“Five! And he’s leaving without you on a cruise that he had promised to take you on, to help you get through this first Christmas without your mother—”
“It’s not his fault that the storm has interfered! At least he’s trying! He wanted me there for his wedding to Shelley.”
“Sheila.”
“Whatever! The point is, he wants us to join him. He said he would buy our plane tickets if we were able to join them.”
“What?” C.J. roared. “I thought he had offered to pay for our trip! Do you mean that we were going to have to pay for it ourselves?” He was livid. “Money! It always boils down to your dad and his money.”
“That’s his way of making up for all those years of being absent! He’s showing his love!”
“Love? This is his way of throwing his weight around! And he always waits until he has an audience, then he pulls out his wallet and gives you his Visa. Or hundred dollar bills.”
“You’re just jealous of his success!” She knew she sounded childish, but she was upset and angry and . . . so very disappointed. Her father had given her the impression that her Christmas surprise was going to be setting her up with a New York photography agent. He had practically promised! This was going to be the way she would finally connect to him, to finally have him in her life. She was willing to completely uproot her life to be near him. And this cruise was going to patch up her marriage! It was going to be the answer they needed. Time away from Stoney Ridge, from sad memories, from that harridan, Eve. She was sure she could convince C.J. that they needed to make this move. It would launch her photography career. She would finally start making some money. Big money, real money, her dad had said. And C.J. could find a teaching job anywhere!
Instead, her father was getting married, to some Sherry-bimbo that he probably met last month. All of Jaime’s plans, her hopes—they were all disappearing, like wisps of steam from a cup of tea.
C.J. threw his hands in the air. “What are you talking about? I have never wanted that kind of success. Success for me is having a job with meaning. It’s having relationships that endure!”
Like the enduring relationship with Eve?! she wanted to shout, but she refused to say it out loud. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. He was the one who was dallying with someone else. Not her. “And that job means we’ll be living in an apartment for the rest of our life.”
“It might mean we don’t have the kind of house your father thinks you should have, but we’ll have a house, in due time.”
She threw up her hands. “When, C.J.? And how are we ever going to be able to buy a house on a teacher’s salary?”
He crossed his arms against his chest. “You knew what my life was like when you married me.”
But did I? Did anybody really know what married life would be like? “You don’t understand—”
“What? What don’t I understand? That you seem to feel entitled to things, because that’s how your father shows you affection? That’s not love, Jaime. He might be your father, but he’s never been your dad. Dads stick around. Dads don’t disappear and only show up when their child wins a contest.” His face was flushed
, and his voice was strong, filling the air around them, demanding an answer.
They stared at each other for a long time, until an odd grinding sound floated across the hillside. It was a snowplow, slowly making its way along the road in front of the farmhouse.
Jaime turned to C.J. with a delighted look on her face. “The trip! Maybe we could still make it!”
She saw Sol and Zach cross from the barn to the house and ran to meet them, to tell them that they would be leaving. It wasn’t until she almost reached the farmhouse that she looked back and saw C.J. was still standing there, by the pond’s edge, where she had left him.
Mattie woke from a nap, startled by the rumble of voices below her bedroom window. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, and as soon as she did, she jumped out of bed and hurried to the window. She saw that Jaime’s red car was no longer in the pond, but now it was down at the edge of the driveway. The hood was up and she could see Zach, bent over, examining the engine. There was no sign of their neighbors. Land sakes, how long had she slept? She just meant to lie down on the bed for a moment. As she smoothed her hair under her prayer cap, she realized it was Sol’s deep voice that woke her. He was below their bedroom window, talking to Jaime on the porch.
She pinned her black apron back over her teal-colored dress and tied her sneaker laces. Before she reached the bottom of the stairs, Jaime and Sol came through the kitchen door. When Jaime saw her, she rushed to meet her.
“Mattie! It’s a miracle! The car is down by the lane and the snowplow just came through. We’re able to get back on schedule!” As Jaime gave Mattie a blow-by-blow account of the last hour, C.J. opened the door to join them in the kitchen.
Mattie took in Jaime’s excitement; she noticed C.J. didn’t look quite as excited. Then she turned to Sol. “Where’s Danny?”
An unnatural silence fell over the room as Sol, C.J., and Jaime exchanged puzzled looks.
A Lancaster County Christmas Page 11