Read The Christmas Light Online

Authors: Donna VanLiere

The Christmas Light

BOOK: The Christmas Light


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For Barbara McGee,

who keeps finding the light in dark places



Many thanks to:

Troy, Gracie, Kate, David, Lucy, CoCo, Katrina, and Cindy for keeping life exciting and full.

Jen Enderlin, the St. Martin’s sales staff, and Michael Storrings for continued belief, outstanding work, and an amazing cover!

Julie Cranston, Dorothy Ley, Maren Milligan, Janice Churchill, Crystal Lepping, and Paige Mathias for your heart.

And a special thanks to the many readers I have met or heard from over the years. You are gracious and encouraging and it is a privilege to write for you. I hope you enjoy
The Christmas Light
as much as I enjoyed writing it.



Title Page

Copyright Notice




Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Also by Donna VanLiere

About the Author



In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present.




Maybe you have to know darkness before you can appreciate the light.


Jennifer De Luca sits at the kitchen table and reaches for the phone, dialing the number in front of her. Although six-year-old Avery is playing in her room, the house is quiet. It is always still but sometimes, thankfully, the silence is louder than the noise in Jen’s head. She listens to the phone ring in her ear. Over three years later, she still has more questions than answers but Dr. Becke says that all profound answers start with deep questions. “So much of life is made up of questions that we think matter a great deal today but are forgotten tomorrow,” Dr. Becke said a few weeks ago. “But it’s the life and death questions, the meaning, purpose, and value questions that matter.” She looked at Jen in her office that day and smiled in a sad way that told Jen that some questions might never be answered.

The phone clicks on the other end and Jennifer follows the prompts for the main receptionist. “Dr. Schwartz’s office, please,” she says. She is transferred and is greeted by a recorded message. She’ll have to leave a voice mail. “Hi, this is Jennifer De Luca, calling about my husband, Michael.” When she hears Avery padding down the hall toward the kitchen, she cuts the message short. Avery stands in the kitchen doorway and pushes a mass of curls out of her face. Jennifer smiles, thinking how she and Michael laughed on seeing Avery’s red, curly hair the day she was born.

“Where did that come from?” Michael asked, laughing. They reasoned it had to be one of their great-grandparents, whom neither had met. “You don’t see many redheads,” he said, reaching for his newborn. “She’s a standout already.”

“Who were you talking to?” Avery asks.

“No one. I was leaving a message for a woman.”

Avery narrows her eyes and comes closer to her mom. “What woman?”

Jen sighs. “At the hospital.”

“About Dad?”

“Yes.” She gets up and opens a cupboard, changing the subject. “Would you like a snack before we leave?”

Avery shakes her head. “I’m not hungry.” She’s holding the angel doll she received from a stranger three and a half years ago. It’s dressed in a shimmering pink dress with iridescent wings and long, flowing brown hair. Avery saw glimpses of the stranger but can’t remember his face. She holds the doll tighter to her chest. She’s been holding tightly to it since the stranger gave it to her, sleeping with it and bringing it in the car for the ride to and from school.

She walks to her mom and holds out her hand, opening it. Inside is Jennifer’s wedding ring. “You forgot to put this on.”

Jen’s gray-blue eyes are rimmed in sadness. “I didn’t forget, babe.”

The small hand is held open in front of Jennifer. “Yes you did. You forgot it in your jewelry box.” Her eyes are a mixture of confusion and pain and Jennifer feels her heart slip a little. She reaches for the ring and puts it on. “If you keep it on, you won’t forget it.”

Jen nods and kisses her daughter’s forehead. “All right, let’s go.” Avery reaches for her coat and her favorite rainbow-colored scarf before getting into the car. The sky is gray and the tree branches reach into the sky like stripped nerves. A hunger for color seizes Jen. In her opinion winter hung on too long, often growing tiresome and sullen with its chilling winds and early nights. She looks in the rearview mirror and watches Avery. She’s looking at the Christmas decorations lining the street and in the storefront windows but isn’t seeing them. “It’s as if I’m driving down a dark road,” Jennifer thinks. She remembers that as a child, this time between the holidays was a sweet and anticipated gift, where time almost seemed suspended, sparkling and magical. She wonders what Avery will remember.

Avery wasn’t always this way. There was a great light about her during her first three years but then life changed. Darkness covers skies and cities and, when we least expect it, on the most ordinary day, it can cover our lives. That’s what Jennifer has learned.

“If we are people who pray,” Jennifer’s mother, Louise, said. “Then it’s darkness that we often pray about.”

She said that last week as she helped Jen clean her home. Louise has only a high school diploma and has worked for the last twenty-five years as an administrative assistant but is the wisest woman Jennifer knows. Jen hasn’t always seen her mother this way but when she had Avery, her mother somehow became profoundly wise. Louise is quiet and never interfered in Jen and Michael’s marriage, but she has always known when her daughter is weary or stressed or swallowed up in shadows.

“And what if we are people who can’t pray?” Jennifer asked.

Louise thought for a moment. “Then it must be that darkness has stopped us.” Jen fell into the sofa as a tear slipped onto her lap. Her mother sat next to her and pulled her close. “Things will get brighter, my love.”

“When, Mom?” Jen wiped the wetness away. “When will it ever get brighter?”

Her mom shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know how many sunrises it will take but one day the sun will rise and you’ll see that light still makes its way through. Even in the dark places.”

Jennifer pulls into a parking spot at the front of the building and looks over her shoulder at Avery. “All set?” The little girl nods and unlatches her seat belt, sliding over and opening the door, leaving the angel on the seat. She holds Jennifer’s hand and walks into Dr. Sondra Becke’s office.

“Hi, Avery!” Rose says, looking up over the receptionist desk. “Would you like some juice or water while you wait?”

Avery sits on the floor and reaches for the toys that Dr. Becke keeps for her youngest patients. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

Rose smiles and looks at Jennifer. “It should only be a few minutes. She’s finishing up with someone.”

Jen sits on a chair by the window and reaches for a magazine she’s already read. When she and Michael got married, Jennifer never imagined sitting in an office like Dr. Becke’s but here she is. She’s been bringing Avery here since just before last Christmas, when her troubles began. She glances up as a woman in her forties slips a credit card to Rose. In the beginning, Jennifer often wondered what was wrong with the person sitting across from her in the waiting room or exiting as she and Avery entered. Were they on the verge of divorce or fighting depression? She no longer wonders because she now knows what each of them wants. They want to know, just like her mom said, that light does make its way through the dark places.

“Hi, Avery!” Jennifer looks up to see Dr. Becke, crouching down next to Avery. Although she looks as if she’s in her fifties, Dr. Becke has the vitality of someone half her age. She keeps her bobbed hair colored a soft shade of brown with blond highlights and often wears a simple, white button-down shirt with trousers. “How many could you stack today?” she asks, looking at the tower of colorful blocks that Avery has erected.

“Only seventeen and then it smashed.”

Dr. Becke stands with her hands on her hips. “That’s great!”

“Not really,” Avery says, throwing the blocks back into their plastic tub. “My record is twenty-four.”

Dr. Becke holds out her hand for Avery. “Next time,” she says, meaning it. Jennifer stands and follows them into Dr. Becke’s office. It’s warm in green and brown tones with soft, overstuffed furniture that Avery loves. She reaches for a stuffed animal on the back of the couch, a tiger she has named Homer, and clutches him to her chest as she settles into the cushions. “It’s been three weeks,” Dr. Becke says, without regarding her notes. “The last time we got together you had a fall festival at school.” She sits next to Avery and leans toward her, tapping her leg. “How’s first grade going?”

“Good,” Avery says, bending Homer’s ears up and down.

“What’s your favorite part about it?”

Avery lifts her shoulders and scrunches up her face. “I like my teacher and I really like when we write stories on the computer.”

Dr. Becke tilts her head back on the sofa and looks up at the ceiling. While Jennifer always feels uncomfortable and on edge when she first walks into her office, Dr. Becke eventually puts her at ease. “Stories on the computer! Can you tell me about one you’re working on?”

“It’s about a dog named Homer.”

Dr. Becke leans up, her eyes widening. “Homer? I’m sensing a theme here,” she says, squishing Homer under her hand. Avery giggles and relaxes farther into the cushions. “What is happening to Homer the dog?”

“He was outside playing with his brothers and sisters when he chased a rabbit but the rabbit wouldn’t stop running and he ran all the way to a street where nobody knows him.”

Dr. Becke snaps her head to look at Avery. “And?”

“And that’s all.”

Dr. Becke slaps her thighs. “That’s all? Homer’s on a street where nobody knows him and you just leave him there?”

Avery laughs and bounces the tiger on her legs. “I still have to work on it.”

“I should say so! You need to get Homer off that street and back with his family toot sweet! Do you know what that means?” Avery shakes her head. “It means fast! You can’t leave Homer on some strange street with wayward rabbits and naughty cats. And don’t get me started on all those misbehaving dogs!”

Avery smiles, shaking her head. “Maybe you should write the rest of it.”

Dr. Becke and Jennifer laugh. “No! It’s your story. And I want to read it when you’re finished, okay?” Avery nods. Dr. Becke looks at Jen, raising her eyebrows. “So how are things?”

When Avery isn’t looking, Jennifer raises her left hand and points to the ring. Dr. Becke nods. “Sleep is interrupted throughout the night,” Jen says, nodding her head toward Avery. “And bed-wetting has started again.”

Dr. Becke looks through her notes. “That started happening around this time last year.”

Jen nods. “Then around February she just stopped. But now she’s—”

Dr. Becke tugs on Homer’s ear. “Are you waking up a lot?” Avery nods. “Is it a dream that’s waking you?” The little girl shrugs. “When you wake up can you remember seeing a face or any images?”

“I don’t remember. I just wake up. A lot of times I wake up because the sheets are wet and I’m cold.”

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