Emma's Gift (25 page)

“I thought we'd make it,” she said. “I thought we could do it, almost the same, if he was the same.”

“We'll make it,” Joe told her. “Without him if we hafta.”

“Look what I brought,” she cried, opening the sack at her feet. “Look!”

Joe didn't look. “We'll give the kids their candy in the morning. An' if Pa don't want his present, that's his business. Maybe he can't even think about Mama right now.”

“Maybe that's why he don't hardly look at us.”

“The Posts sent a turkey,” I said, hoping it would cheer her. “Lots of fixings for the rest of the meal too. It's for you, only they brought it here when they found out you'd be here.”

“We's a pity to 'em all, I guess.”

“Oh, Lizbeth, they care about you.”

“You was right the other day, tellin' the preacher it ain't fair. Pa don't want us, Mrs. Wortham. He plain don't want us, an' I ain't sure God does neither.”

“Lizbeth…”

But what could I say? My words had done this to her heart, just as much as her father's behavior had.
God forgive me. I know you love them. You love us all.

“Lizbeth, I'm so sorry I said what I did. I was just feeling overwhelmed, that's all. Your mother was absolutely sure of God's love, I know she was, and she would want you to be. He's going to provide for you. He's going to work everything out all right.”

“You have a mama?” Her words sounded like an accusation.

“In heaven,” I said. “Years ago. She passed on when I was five.”

She looked up at me, startled. “I didn't know that.”

“Not something I talk about much.”

She was looking at me differently. Like maybe she thought I understood at least a little of what they were going through. “Did you stay with your pa after that?”

“Not much. He was gone a lot. And then he died when I was nine.”

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “What did you do?”

“Stayed with Grandma Pearl. And she was wonderful. She taught me about faith and shared so much.”

“We ain't got a grandma. They's both gone.”

“But God will work out something wonderful for you. I know he will. Don't give up on your father, honey. He's going through a rough time.”

“So are we. But I don't see him studyin' on that none, Mrs. Wortham. Maybe he'd like to be gone off like your pa was.”

“I don't think so. Give him time.”

She shook her head. “Ain't got nothin' but time, I guess. But that don't help matters.” She stood up. “Ain't doin' squat jus' sittin'. I'll help you fix on somethin' if you want. Mighty sorry to trouble you for the holiday an' not have nothin' to give none a' you all. You been so kind.”

“You're a wonderful help, Lizbeth. That's enough.”

Sarah was singing in the next room, faintly at first, and then louder. “Hark the herald angels sing…”

Nobody else joined in.

“I make good stuffing,” Lizbeth told me. “If you got bread enough, I could cut it to dry for crumbs. That's somethin' we oughta have done ahead.”

“Let's make some more bread then,” I agreed. “To make sure we have enough.”

We were occupied at that, Sarah still singing, when somebody knocked on the door. I wondered who in the world it could be. Not Samuel. He wouldn't knock.

Kirk opened the door for me, and Pastor and Juanita stood there on the porch, their arms full of packages.

“Julia, honey,” Juanita said right away, “I hope you don't mind the intrusion.”

“Oh, come in! Goodness! You're never an intrusion. You're welcome. Come in!”

“It's just too far to get up to our families in Iowa this year, and we wanted to spend some more time with you tonight anyway, if it's all right.”

“Oh, yes,” I assured them, feeling relieved. Maybe with Pastor here, with Juanita here, I could get us through this holiday. “Can you stay over till tomorrow?”

“Well…” Pastor looked at Juanita, and she looked at him, and they both nodded at the same time. “If you want us to.”

Harry had run up and taken Juanita's hand. “I know a secret,” he chuckled, trying to pull her into the sitting room.

“Harry, let her get her coat off,” I scolded, hurrying up to take the big cloth bag she was holding.

“Something for the kids,” she whispered.

“God bless you,” I said. Oh, God was good in the most amazing of ways! We had a feast, courtesy of the Posts, and Barrett Post was even thinking on God. Now here were these dear souls bearing gifts when their presence alone was gift enough right now. Bad as we hurt, and even though I'd been handling it all so poorly, God was trying extra hard just to let us know he was here with us. I hoped the kids noticed, especially Lizbeth.

Lizbeth noticed that Juanita had brought presents. “Why? Pastor Jones, why'd you come out? I don't recall no other pastor comin' out Christmas Eve.”

It was hard to remember that Pastor Jones hadn't been in the Dearing area much longer than we had. He seemed such a natural part of the surroundings.

“We wanted you to know how much we care for you,” he said. “And not just us. The things we brought are from other members of your church family, in town.” He set his two bundles on the table. “Would you mind me unhitching the horse and finding a place in the barn—”

“I can do that,” Kirk offered immediately. He took Willy with him to see to the chore.

Pastor started unbuttoning his coat, and I looked out the window, knowing that he and Juanita didn't own any horses. Charlie Hunter's sleigh was sitting in the lane, with the same strong mare he'd used to bring out Miss Hazel.
Bless him, Lord. What would we do without the dear friends you give us!

“We made cookies for you,” Lizbeth told the pastor timidly.

“Well, that sounds good right now. With coffee, if you have some.”

“Yes, sir.” She whirled around automatically, all set to get it for him, and then turned to me with a funny sort of look. “Oh. Oh, Mrs. Wortham, do you have coffee made?”

“Let's get him a fresh pot. I'll do it.”

For a minute there, she almost seemed embarrassed, like she'd forgotten this wasn't her own home. Strangely enough, I was kind of glad about it. I wanted her to feel at home here.

I soon heard Juanita's easy laughter from the next room, along with Harry's. And then she was singing with Sarah and prompting the others to join in, something I couldn't have done.

Pastor was sitting at the table, enjoying the cookies Lizbeth had hurriedly set before him while I made the coffee.

“Got a tree?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “No, I forgot. We talked about it. And then I forgot all over again.”

“It isn't necessary,” Pastor said. “We just had a few things to put under it, that's all. But we can set them wherever you like.”

“I know where there's a tree,” Joe said. “In the timber. Not too awful big.”

“Where's Samuel?” Pastor asked me.

“With George.”

He nodded but didn't comment. Instead, thankfully, he turned to Joe. “You want to get that tree?”

“I don't much care, but some a' the younger ones might get a kick outta havin' it.”

Pastor's eyes suddenly glistened. “Julia, would you mind me taking an ax and some of the children and getting us a tree?”

“No. No, I don't mind.” How could I possibly mind? This is what I'd wanted—for Christmas to absorb us enough to find a little happiness, something good to remember.

Before he'd even had a chance at the coffee, Pastor got up and asked how many of the children wanted to go walking into the timber after that tree. And he ended up taking six of the eleven children in the house. Joey and Harry and Bert and Rorey and Sarah. Franky didn't want to go, but I talked him into it. Robert would've gone if it was his father, and I tried to get him to go anyway, but he chose to stay with Willy and Kirk, who'd just come in and declined to go back out again. Lizbeth and the baby stayed too, which was about what I'd expected.

Juanita had barely gotten her coat off but put it right back on again when she saw how many youngsters her husband would have on his hands.

“Let's make snow angels,” she suggested while struggling to help wiggly little Bert with his buttons. “It won't be dark for a while yet, and it's a little warmer again today.”

“We should make some in a circle,” Franky suggested. “All around Mama's grave.”

I wasn't sure how Pastor would handle that one. And maybe he wasn't sure either, because he didn't answer right away. Instead, they all went trooping out the door, some looking excited and some still uncertain. But thank God for Pastor and Juanita! Bless them! They would know how to make this Christmas as close to a celebration as possible under the circumstances, and that was what Wila and Emma would've wanted.

“Why don't you go on and join them?” I suggested to Kirk. “You can help Pastor with the little ones.”

“Joe can do that.” He looked out the window with a frown.

“But it wouldn't hurt you to be a part of it.”

“Wouldn't help me none neither, that I can see.”

“Kirk—” But I stopped. What right did I have to insist? Robert and Willy were already starting a checkers game. Lizbeth had gone back to cutting the leftover corn bread into cubes. Maybe I should just leave him alone. But he was looking so…lost.

“Why don't I spread a blanket on the sitting-room floor for Emma Grace,” I suggested. “And bring her some cups and spoons to play with. Would you mind keeping an eye on her so she doesn't scoot too far?”

“I guess.”

He was far from pleased, but at least he didn't argue. After I got them situated, I went back to the kitchen, trying to figure in my head how much stuffing we'd need if Pastor and his wife stayed for Christmas dinner, which I dearly hoped they would.

“Sure glad we made them cookies,” Lizbeth said. “With Pastor here an' bringin' us things, wouldn't be right not to give 'em somethin'. We can heap a plate up. Too bad we ain't got more'n that.”

I nodded my head in agreement. I'd have to think on it. Maybe we had something.

“Oh, Lizbeth, I know!” The thought came so sudden it surprised me. The little oak cross that Samuel had carved, sitting upstairs in our room. Of course, I'd have to ask Samuel about it, but I was sure he'd be willing. Maybe it'd look nice on a table or something at their house. Samuel could make me another one sometime.

I ran right upstairs to get it, surely making Robert and Willy and Kirk wonder what I was about.

“It's perfect,” Lizbeth told me when I brought it to her. “If you don't mind it bein' gone, it's just the sorta thing for a pastor's mantle. Or in a winda or somethin'.”

I started to put it in a drawer, under the dishtowels, but Lizbeth protested immediately.

“Mrs. Pastor might find it there if she goes to helpin' us with the dishes tonight, an' you jus' know she'll offer. We oughta wrap it in paper afore they get back so there ain't no chance them seein' it. You got paper?”

I was a little surprised at her enthusiasm. “I've got paper. Plain brown or white, though. Not colored, unfortunately.”

“That don't matter so much. It's havin' somethin' to give 'em that's important.” She grew quiet, looking at me. “I wanna give my Christmas candy to your two, and I sure wish I had somethin' more for you all.”

There were tears in her eyes. Seeing it, there were very nearly tears in mine. “Lizbeth, thank you. But what came from your father, you need to keep. Samuel and I have something for the children.”

I was glad that we had worked so hard last night and all that morning getting things ready for the Hammond kids. I'd finished Rorey's doll dress but not the ties. And Emma Grace! I'd completely forgotten to locate the dress Emma'd been making and see if it was finished. But there was nothing I could do now until the kids were asleep.

“You're kinda like Emma,” Lizbeth said when I brought her the paper. “I can tell you're fond a' givin'.”

I smiled. That was about the highest compliment I could imagine. “You too, Lizbeth. You're fond of giving too.”

She continued cutting the corn bread, and I started making a double batch of Grandma's soda bread, because it was faster than yeast and would do fine for stuffing. “Oh, what should we serve for dinner tonight?”

“Let's heat all the leftovers and make a dishpan full a' popcorn.” She made me smile again. There'd always been some unspoken distance between us, but now, like a miracle, that distance was gone.

Kids and snow and the fresh smell of pine all came bursting through the door together. It was a fine tree, not too big like Joe had said, but plenty big enough when we didn't have much to decorate it with anyway.

Emma Grace laughed when they came tramping through with their boots and their coats still on to see how it'd look by the sitting-room window.

“Oh!” Pastor exclaimed. “I completely forgot to think how we're going to get it to stand up.”

“If Samuel were here, he'd nail a couple of boards to the base of the trunk, like an X,” I offered.

“I can do that!” Franky exclaimed and headed straight for the door.

Juanita looked at me in question, but Lizbeth shook her head. “Let him do it. He prob'ly can.”

I had to agree. “He knows where Samuel's tools are by now too.”

Lord, how we were all like one big family. But such a thought frightened me, and I wished Samuel would get back. I wished George were here. But they'd come. Samuel had promised me they'd come. At least by morning these children would have their father again.

“Now we gotta trim it pretty!” Sarah exclaimed. “Mommy, are you making popcorn?”