The Christmas Light (11 page)

“And you said that king…” It’s Triplet One, bending nearly in two to scratch the back of his leg. “He had it in for Jesus and tried to get rid of him?”

Gloria nods. “King Herod
tried
to get rid of him but his plan failed.”

“Somebody should’ve told him he couldn’t be king anymore,” Triplet Three says. “They should have punched him or kicked him or run him over with their bikes.”

Gloria shakes her head. “Well, we don’t punch or kick or run people over with our bikes.”

The triplets pull on their coats. “You’re sure the bad king didn’t win?”

“Positive,” Miriam says. “In the end the good king wins.”

“The king of all kings, right?” Triplet Two says, socking one of his brothers in the head just because he was standing there.

“That’s right!” Gloria says.

“This is what I would’ve done to him,” Triplet One says, punching Triplet Three in the stomach. Triplet Three bends over, pretending to be in pain and grabs Triplet Two around the waist, knocking him to the floor.

“Oh, for the love of…” Miriam says, waving her arms. “Take it into the hallway!” She turns, spotting Jen and Avery, and pretends to pull out her hair.

“Sofia is sick?” Jen asks.

“Poor lamb,” Gloria says. “She was so sick. They operated yesterday morning and took her appendix out. She got home this afternoon.”

“She’s okay?” Jen asks.

“A bit of pain,” Miriam says. “You know how it is following surgery. But now that the problem is gone, she will be on the mend.”

“How’s Ryan?” She feels Avery watching her.

“Very well. Making her laugh. And Gloria made her a chocolate chess pie, which the child cannot even eat yet, so it feels more like torture to me. Or maybe it’s that Gloria feels like torture to me. Sometimes I just don’t know.”

Avery tugs on Jen’s coat sleeve. “We have to go see her, Mom.”

“I’m not sure if we’d be allowed to do—”

Gloria holds the loose music sheets together and taps them on top of the piano. “She would be over-the-moon excited to see you, Miss Avery!”

They haven’t crossed the room before Avery says, “We need to go home first. I need to get something for Sofia.”

Once they’re home, Jen waits at the edge of the sofa as Avery runs to her room. “Okay, I’m ready,” she says, running back down the hall. The angel doll is tucked under her arm. “Let’s go.”

“Is that what you’re giving her?”

Avery is hurrying to the door. “Yeah. Come on.”

“Wait!” Jennifer walks to her and touches the doll. “But you love this doll. You’ve had it since the acci—” She stops. “Why would you want to give it away?”

“Mom, let’s go!” It’s the only thing she says and she stands, looking at her mother.

Nodding, Jen turns Avery to the door and closes it behind them.

*   *   *

Ryan opens the door and smiles.

“Is this a good time?” Jen says.

He stands aside. “Sure! Come on in.”

Jen feels that odd catch in her chest again as she moves past Ryan to the couch where Sofia is propped up watching
America’s Funniest Home Videos
. An empty cup of Jell-O sits on the coffee table. “We’re so sorry you were sick. Are you feeling better now?”

“Bleh,” Sofia says, giving her a thumbs-down.

Jen rubs Sofia’s arm. “Did it go well?” she says, looking at Ryan.

He’s wearing camouflage pants with a black T-shirt and black zip-up sweatshirt. His gaze settles on her and she twists the wedding band on her finger before crossing her arms. “It went very well. She was in and out in no time and the doctor doesn’t expect a long recovery. Hopefully, she’ll be feeling better tomorrow.”

Avery sits on the end of the sofa and holds out the angel doll. “I brought this for you.”

Sofia reaches for it. “Cool! She’s so pretty! Thanks!”

Ryan turns his head, looking at the doll. “Huh.” He sticks his hand out. “Can I see her for a second?” He makes a low, rumbling sound in the back of his throat and shakes his head.

“What are you looking at, Dad?” Sofia says, taking the doll from him.

“Nothing. It just reminds me of a doll your mom and I gave you a few years ago.”

Sofia plays with the angel’s wings, spreading them with her fingers. “No you didn’t.”

“I’m pretty sure we did.”

She rolls her eyes, looking at Jen and Avery. “Dad, I remember every toy you and Mom ever gave me. Trust me, you never gave me an angel.”

He shrugs, smiling at Avery. “Maybe that’s because only angels can give angels.”

“We would have come earlier if we’d known you were in the hospital,” Jen says. She watches Avery and Sofia play with the doll and whispers to Ryan, “I’m sorry about the other day. Leaving so abruptly.”

He waves a hand in the air. “No apologies. I get cranky, too, when it’s dinnertime.” He avoids looking at her too long. The longer he stands close to her and the more time he spends working next to her, building the set, he realizes he always feels some sort of wintry calm around her that he shouldn’t feel.

A roar like a waterfall pounds inside Jennifer’s head. She wants to talk, to sit down over coffee and ask him such familiar questions as
Where did you grow up? How did you become a contractor? Who is Sofia most like? What’s your favorite food?
And such unusual questions as
What’s a great day look like for you? How about a bad one? What would you do differently in your life?
Jen thinks of Gabrielle and Avery and smiles. Things are still too complicated, too hard.

“How are rehearsals for the angel choir going?” Ryan asks.

Avery shrugs and shakes her head. “Eh. We’re not very good. We sing ‘Joy to the World’ and trust me … it is not!” Ryan falls onto a chair, laughing, and Avery’s eyes widen. “I’m serious! It’s awful!” His laugh is deep-rooted and pops like gunfire when it lets go.

“She’s right!” Sofia says. “We stink.”

Ryan laughs again and Jen joins him. Avery and Sofia look at one another and roll their eyes, causing Ryan and Jen to laugh harder. They laugh because they are tired and because they are grateful and because, for a few seconds, their girls lift a bit of the world off their minds.

TWELVE

I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.

—O
G
M
ANDINO

Kaylee opens a drawer and pulls out a stack of T-shirts, packing them into a box, before opening the sweater drawer and doing the same. She reaches for the wooden jewelry box she painted and decorated when she was in third grade, on top of the chest of drawers. She’s careful as she lays it on top of the sweaters. The clay pig from kindergarten makes her smile because the legs are way too short and the tail is much too long. She wraps it inside a T-shirt and places it next to the jewelry box. Pictures from softball and tae kwon do are also wrapped in newspaper, along with snapshots of friends and family trips to Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, and the Statue of Liberty.

In a few minutes, she moves to the closet and begins to fold pants, shirts, and jackets, placing them inside the boxes, and then shoes, boots, belts, and bags. The emptying space swallows her. Her face begins to quake, her eyes getting wet and glassy, but she pulls it back together, good as new, when she hears her mother in the hallway.

“Are you packing?” Joni asks, sticking her head inside the bedroom door.

“A little.” Kaylee steps out of the closet, carrying a box. “I didn’t want to wait much longer and be as big as the moon doing this.” She sets the box on the floor at the end of her bed and looks around. “I hate moving.”

Her mom sits on the bed. Her brown hair is held back by a headband and she looks tired. “I do, too. There’s so much to do.”

Kaylee sits next to her. “No, I mean I hate
moving
.” She sighs and her mom puts her hand on her leg, patting it. “I thought I’d love leaving but I’m going to miss this room and this house and this awful town that I couldn’t wait to get out of.”

She can’t see her mom’s face but Kaylee knows by the shaking in her voice that the end of her nose is red. “This is where we brought you home from the hospital on the day you were born. We laid you in the crib right over there, and when Adam came along, you insisted that we put the crib right there again so you could watch over him at night. You even told us that you would get up and feed him in the middle of the night. That never happened, by the way.”

Kaylee laughs. “It was a great house to grow up in. A great town. I can’t believe I think that.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Her mom glances at Kaylee’s artwork that she has hung on the walls and the door of her room since kindergarten and wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “I’ve lost track of all the last times with you and Adam because they are coming at me so fast now. You know, the last time I had to tie your shoes for you. The last Little League game I went to or the last batch of cookies I had to make for a Valentine’s party. This will be the last time I’ll see all of these pictures that you have colored or painted over the years. It’s like closing a museum.”

Kaylee smiles, looking at the drawing of her mom with the stick legs and long spaghetti-like hair and the rocket ship painted pink with purple hearts. “I’m scared, Mom.”

Her mom kisses the top of her head. “I won’t lie. It is scary.”

“I’ve done a lot of dumb things.”

“So have I. And don’t even get me started on your dad!” Kaylee laughs as she wipes her nose with her palm. “There are lots of decisions when you’re a parent. Sometimes you get them right. Sometimes you get them wrong.”

“I don’t want to start off getting them wrong.” Joni rubs her hand over Kaylee’s back and Kaylee remembers her doing that every night, at bedtime. Her parents told her this day would come, that she’d grow up and move on. It felt like the day would never get here but now that it’s this close, it feels like her throat is slipping down to her stomach. So this is growing up and moving on and looking forward and leaving behind. It would be hard enough on her own but the life kicking inside of her reminds her that there are two of them now. Her child will never know this house or walk with her through the historic square and picture-book gazebo. Her child will never shop with her for toys at Wilson’s department store like she and Adam did with their mom or share a pastry fresh out of the oven at Betty’s Bakery. Life was moving on for both of them.

*   *   *

Jennifer works at applying another coat of joint compound to one of the rocks the team has made from chicken wire and strips of canvas, while Gabrielle helps Ryan secure more two-by-fours into a rock, on which Mary and Joseph will be able to sit. Ed and two others are busy spreading joint compound over the stable walls, making them look like the inside of a cave.

They are busy, there is still much to do before Christmas Eve. Gabrielle sings along to “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” and coaxes Ryan to join her. Jen keeps her head bent to her work and listens. She and Michael would sing this song together and end up in a heap of laughter. They were so bad. She still remembers all of it like it was yesterday. At first the memories would sweep over her in great waves of grief. As time has moved on, she’s come to realize that when she remembers Michael, it means that she carries who he was with her. He left a mark that can never be erased. A smell, a landmark, a song, or even a burger can summon him back to her mind. And in those moments, she can still see his face and hear his voice. She prays again that Avery will come to realize that as long as she remembers her dad, he’ll never be truly gone, that when she’s sad, her dad’s memory is comfort, and when she feels ecstatic, he’s part of why she feels that way. If Avery tucks him away from her thoughts, Jen is convinced that a huge part of who she is will be lost.

“Did you hear that, Jen?” Jen turns to Gabrielle and realizes she hasn’t been listening. “Did you hear that Ryan is taking the job in Riverside?”

Jen reaches for the bucket of joint compound. “Yes. I heard there was that possibility.”

“I thought you liked both jobs equally,” Gabrielle says, hiding her disappointment well, Jennifer thinks. “Why didn’t you settle in Grandon?”

Ryan glances at her and Jen before turning back to his work. “I don’t know. It was just going to be difficult to live here.”

“I hope there’s something that will bring you here to visit,” Gabrielle says. Jen would love to think that Gabrielle is being coy or even desperate but she’s not. She’s a kind person who is genuinely going to miss another person.

“Of course I’ll be back!”

“You must be talking about my nephew defecting.” Gloria is standing by the door and shaking her head. “Breaks my heart.”

“Riverside’s only four hours away,” Ryan says.

“Too far,” Gloria says. “The older I get, the more I become jealous and greedy and want family closer.” She surveys their work and claps her hands together. “Miriam will be tickled pink to see that Mary will be able to sit down on a rock. I knew my brilliant nephew would think of something.” She looks at Jen. “Isn’t he great, Jen?”

“He is,” Jen says. She feels embarrassed after she says it and looks at her watch, realizing she and Avery will be late to see Dr. Becke if she doesn’t leave. “I’m sorry, I have to take Avery to an appointment.” She grabs her purse and coat and hugs Gloria on the way out.

Gloria steps to Ryan as he reaches for another two-by-four. “Jen is so sweet,” she says, whispering to him. “Don’t you love working with her?”

“Actually, no. No, I don’t.” He moves to the sawhorse and misses the look on Gloria’s face.

*   *   *

“How are rehearsals going?” Dr. Becke asks. She looks at her notes. “You are part of the angel choir, correct?”

Avery nods, holding Homer on the sofa. “We’re not very good yet.”

Jen smiles and Dr. Becke laughs, leaning down and propping her elbows up on her knees. “Do you mean you don’t know the songs yet?”

Avery shakes her head. “No, I mean we stink. The boy angels always fight, especially the triplets. They are always in trouble and nobody can sing while they’re fighting.”

“It sounds like the angel choir needs a therapist!”