The Gift of Christmas Present (15 page)

The week before graduation had passed slowly, and Esther had felt that she and Lenore were playing some sort of game as they prepared for and attended various graduation events, both of them pretending that nothing whatsoever was wrong. Naturally, James had been absolutely no help. But then Lenore wasn't his daughter, and Esther had assumed that he was blaming her for her daughter's downfall. As a result, he'd barely spoken to either of them after he'd learned the embarrassing news. And then he'd taken off unexpectedly with the baseball coach to scout some young man with a “fastball in Peoria.” He hadn't even attended Lenore's graduation. But that hadn't been such a surprise, considering his stepdaughter's wayward behavior. Esther hadn't held it against him.

It was a couple of days after graduation that the fireworks came out again. Esther had worked it out to take Lenore to Hattie's. They would fly out together the following week on the pretense of a little European vacation. She'd already been telling her friends that this was a plan to surprise her daughter. By the time the two of them returned later in the summer, no one in town would be the wiser. Even James had agreed that it was a good solution to an embarrassing situation. After all, he did have his image to protect.

But when she'd come home from the travel agent's office, airline tickets in hand, she'd discovered Lenore and James engaged in a horrible argument.

“You're a monster!” Lenore had screamed at her stepfather. “You should be thrown into prison and—”

“Listen to reason,” he'd said in a loud voice. “You're acting completely foolish, Lenore. Your mother is only trying to help—”

“Help me murder a poor unborn baby?” she'd yelled back. “Clean up this unfortunate mess so the important Dr. Daniels can get back to his life without anyone knowing—”

“Lenore!” Esther had stormed in and scolded her daughter. “How dare you speak to your stepfather in that voice? Apologize to him at once.”

But Lenore had turned and glared at her mother. It was an expression Esther had never seen on her daughter's face before, and one that would be forever etched in her memory.

“Apologize to him?” Lenore had shrieked. “That horrible monster should be apologizing to me.”

“Lenore!” Esther had been completely shocked.

“That's right, Mother!” Lenore had held up her hands. “Go ahead. Take his side. I knew you would.” Then she'd stormed off to her room and slammed the door.

Esther had apologized profusely to James, trying to explain how hormones could set a pregnant woman off, assuring him that everything would be okay once she got Lenore off to Hattie's.

But Lenore was gone the next morning. Naturally, Esther had assumed that she'd be back in time to fly out to Hattie's. After she'd had time to cool off a bit and think
things through. She'd return to her mother, sorry and contrite and ready to go take care of this unfortunate business. But the following week passed, and then summer passed, and Lenore never came home.

“She's eighteen going on nineteen,” James had reassured Esther when she'd suggested they declare her a missing person. “She doesn't have to come home if she doesn't want to. Maybe it's better like this, Esther. Maybe she needs to deal with this in her own way. You know she'll come back in time, when she's ready.”

And Esther had listened to him and believed him. But one year followed the next, and Lenore never came home. At one point Esther had even considered hiring a private detective to search for her daughter, but by then pride and bitterness had begun to set in, and she'd decided to see who had more staying power—her or her daughter?

She sighed and leaned back in her desk chair. Now it was too late. Lenore was never coming home again. Death had separated them forever.

“Would you have returned, Lenore?” Esther asked the question aloud. “Would you have come back home to me if you had lived?”

She felt hot tears running down her cheeks again. How many tears had she cried in the past twenty-four hours? She felt like an old sponge that had been squeezed and wrung dry. How could she possibly have any tears left? Her heart ached as if someone had plucked it from her chest and torn it into pieces. How could a mother endure such pain? It was wrong, wrong, wrong to lose a child like this. But it was even more wrong to lose a child who had been estranged.

“I'm so sorry, Lenore,” Esther whispered. “I was wrong and stupid. Please forgive me. I'm sorry . . .”

Her nose was dripping now, and she started jerking open her desk drawers in search of a tissue or handkerchief. But she stopped when she saw the small black book Jimmy had given her when his father died. It was lying on top of some papers in a drawer. Oh, she knew it was a Bible. But what on earth he'd thought she'd ever want with something like that was beyond her. She had no use for such religious relics. In fact, she thought she'd thrown the silly thing away long ago. For some reason, she picked it up now. She ran her finger over the gold embossed lettering of her name. Esther Louise Daniels. She supposed it was a sweet gesture on Jimmy's part. But then he'd always been a good boy. Maybe he wasn't her own flesh and blood, but he'd always treated her with such love and loyalty.

She opened the book, fanning through the delicate pages. Suddenly she remembered the last words on Lenore's gravestone.
John 3:16
. She had suspected at the time that they might be indicative of something from the Bible, but being generally unfamiliar with Bibles, the name and numbers meant nothing to her. Yet, for some unexplainable reason, they had remained in her mind. Perhaps this was meant to be a message for her, a message from beyond the grave, from her beloved daughter.

It took Esther a while before she figured things out and actually discovered where she might find this mysterious message. But finally she put her finger on what had to be it. She read the verse silently at first, and then aloud, pondering over each word.

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten
Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

She pulled out the satin ribbon that was sewn into the Bible and slipped it between the pages to mark the verse. Then she closed the book and leaned back in her chair and wondered. Was it really possible to have everlasting life? Could a person actually live forever? And who would want to? Good grief, she was so tired sometimes, like tonight for instance, that she wished she would simply go to sleep and never wake up again. Not ever.

But what if? What if there really was such a thing as everlasting life? A heaven, even? What if her beautiful Lenore was up there right now, perhaps even looking down and watching her? What if there was a way to see her daughter again, to tell her she was so very, very sorry, to tell her that she loved her, had always loved her? Oh, it was almost too much to imagine, too much to hope for. Too good to be true.

Esther pushed herself to her feet, left the Bible on her desk, and slowly made her way back to her bed. But before she went to sleep, she made a feeble attempt at prayer. Just in case God was really there and actually listening.

“I'm a foolish old woman,” she said. “I don't even know how to say a proper prayer. But if what I just read in that black book is true, and if there really is some sort of life that goes on after death, then would you please show me what I must do to have it?” She wondered if she should add anything else, then finally said, “Amen.”

Of course, she felt skeptical and slightly childish. But, she reminded herself, it might be better to ask the question and be wrong than to never ask at all.

Christine slept later than usual the next morning. Feeling guilty, she jerked on her clothes and then jogged through the snow, hurrying to her grandmother's house. It was close to nine, and she hoped she hadn't been missed yet. Although it seemed unlikely.

She knew Felicity was especially counting on her help today. Not only with the party preparations but also with Aunt Hattie's visit. Christine wondered if her grandmother's activities yesterday might have made her more tired than usual. Perhaps she'd decided to sleep in today. Otherwise, she'd probably be upset that Christine was late.

Christine let herself into the house and hurried into the living room.

“About time you got here,” Felicity said as she set a cup of coffee next to her mother-in-law. “I already took care of Mom for you.”

“I'm sorry,” Christine said as she took off her coat.
“I didn't sleep very well last night and I woke up late and—”

“Oh, don't worry about it,” her grandmother said. “Felicity is just getting herself too worked up over this confounded Christmas party. She thinks everything has to be picture perfect.”

“Not perfect,” Felicity said as she jotted something down on her ever-growing list. “Just nice.”

“Have you had your breakfast yet, Grandmother?” Christine asked.

“No, she hasn't,” Felicity said quickly. “And neither has Aunt Hattie. You take care of that, Christine, and I'll make a quick run to the store. Then I want you to start on that list that I've left for you in the kitchen. Okay?”

Christine nodded and went into the kitchen to discover that Felicity had initiated some sort of major baking project that had left bowls, measuring utensils, and various ingredients strewn across every countertop. Christine located her list in the midst of this mess and, blowing off the flour, read the first chore: “Clean the kitchen.”

Christine shook her head as she cleared enough space on the counter to begin fixing breakfast. First things first. She found ham in the refrigerator and cut some slices, then poached enough eggs for the two older women as well as herself. If Felicity planned to work her like a dog today, she would at least fortify herself with a good breakfast.

She decided to serve breakfast in the dining room for a change, and searched until she found three placemats that matched the blue willow dishes she'd admired in the cabinet. When the food was done and the table was set,
she went out to announce, “Breakfast is served in the dining room,” as if she were an English butler.

Her grandmother chuckled. “Does that mean I have to get out of my chair?”

“Do you mind?” Christine asked tentatively. “I thought since we had a guest . . .”

“I think it would be lovely to eat in the dining room,” her grandmother said. Christine blinked in surprise but said nothing.

Aunt Hattie came into the room. “We're eating in the dining room?” she asked in a cheerful voice.

“Yes,” Esther said. “My granddaughter thinks we should dine in style this morning.”

And so they did. Christine had already opened the drapes to reveal the beautiful white blanket that had turned the backyard into a sparkling winter wonderland.

“This is lovely,” Aunt Hattie said. “What a nice treat.”

“Christine is a good cook too,” Esther said as she leaned her crutches against the table and maneuvered herself into the chair at the head of the table. “She used to cook and clean for her father after her mother passed away.”

“And your father?” Aunt Hattie asked. “Is he still alive?”

Christine explained about Brazil, and Aunt Hattie smiled. “Oh, that must be wonderful. I've often wished I could go do something like that.”

“Why don't you?” Christine asked.

“Don't you think I'd be too old?”

“My father is sixty-four,” Christine said. “You can't be much older than that.”

Aunt Hattie laughed. “Well, now, aren't you a sweet
thing.” She winked at Esther. “If you ever get tired of her, just feel free to send her my way.”

“Humph.” Esther grunted as she reached for a second piece of toast. “You don't need to worry yourself about that, Hattie. Christine and I get along just fine, thank you very much.”

Christine tried to keep the chatter light after that. She didn't like the idea of the two women getting riled up about some old offense during the breakfast she had so carefully prepared. Fortunately, they didn't. Perhaps Jimmy had been right after all. Maybe Aunt Hattie had simply come to help bury the hatchet.

She left the two women to their coffee and returned to her task of cleaning the kitchen. She was just finishing up when Felicity came blasting through the back door with a full load of groceries. “There's more in the car,” she told Christine.

Christine restrained herself from saluting her drill sergeant aunt. Instead she turned to dry her hands, then went out to the garage to retrieve several more bags of groceries from the open trunk. How many people was Felicity expecting anyway?

“But why do you need to call your lawyer
today
, Mom?” Felicity was asking when Christine came back inside.

Christine set the bags on the counter and paused to listen. Not that she really wanted to eavesdrop, but Felicity's voice sounded more aggravated than usual.