Page 49 of Four Calling Birds

But they brought in holly, the bright red berries still attached, and twined them together to make garlands for every door and window of the house.

Tension remained, but it was under the surface, laying dormant for the time being. As far as I was concerned, that was a small mercy as we approached the “most wonderful time of year”.

In the afternoon, my parents came. My mother, Betty, stayed with Lotte in the kitchen, getting drunk on gluhwein - a mulled, cinnamon red wine famous in German Christmas Markets. My Dad and young Tyler stood, arms crossed, observing as everyone got into a snowball fight, or made snowmen. Dad seemed to have found his new shadow.

Mary and Taz went sledding, climbing up the hill and screaming their way down in laughter.

Griff, injured as he was, stayed on the porch, just watching Taz like a creep. I had no idea what the fuck was going on there, but whatever it was would end with a volatile explosion that would be glorious to watch, as long as we all kept a safe distance.

The sound of a roaring engine cut through the silence. Little birds flew out of the barren trees towards the light blue sky. A red 1992 Ford F-Series came up the long drive, its snow tires leaving patterns in the rising white slush and salt. There was a white stripe down the sides. It was a beautiful old car. A testament to old school reliability. Long planks of lumber were sticking out the back.

“Is that…?” I squinted, looking at the driver. “Is that Veder?”

Goose stopped, and Griff limped onto his feet and came over to the banister, shielding his eyes from the harsh reflection of the sun on the white snow. The car came to a halt in front of the barn and the shaggy-haired vagrant stepped out. Except he looked… bathed.

“You buy a new truck?” I called out to Veder as he started to pull the wood out from the truck bed.

“Yeah, Top,” he said, without further explanation.

“She’s a beaut,” my Dad called, walking over to kick the tires. Tyler followed him, mimicking his movements and his littlehmms of admiration as they looked at the fender, the paint job, and the condition of the tread.

“I’m going to renovate the barn,” Veder said in a manner that didn’t ask for permission, or approval. He was going to fix the barn. That was it. “I’ll turn it into a garage and workshop in the bottom, and put an apartment up top. Get it weatherproofed, so you could consider having renters or something one day.”

“You gonna start paying rent?” Griff said from the porch, a slightly good-humored smile on his lips.

It was funny. For all the ways Griff and Taz fought like cats and dogs, our little golden boy seemed to be more at ease the longer she was in his presence. It was a phenomenon we had noticed back in the Army. If Griff was having a shit day, we’d send Taz to do a task with him, and they’d yell and scream, and cuss. But at the end of the day, Griff would crack a smile, and not wreck the team room.

I stood in the middle of it all, looking at the well-decorated Victorian house covered in ribbons and lights, the red barn, the guest house and the hundreds of acres around me. This might not have been the family I envisioned. None of them had my eyes, or Lotte’s cute little nose.

Still, there was something special happening this season. I could feel it.

Just when things couldn’t get more perfect, I heard the stomping footsteps of another set of boots on the long drive. Mellie was walking up along the Veder’s tire marks, her arms crossed, her cheeks flushed in the cold wind. Her knitted cardigan was raised up to her ears, her eyes red-rimmed. She looked around at the festivities with a sort of frightened surprise.

“You okay, Mellie?” I walked up to her, noticing that Veder had pushed off the edge of the barn door and was coming over.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry to interrupt. I knew I shouldn’t come here, but…” She looked around, and seemed to shrink. “But… I don’t have anyone else…”

The girl was fighting back tears.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping toward her. Veder slowly took a stand beside me, looking at the girl with curious eyes. Like a barn cat sniffing a newcomer.

“Mellie?” Lotte called from the porch door, her fuzzy-socked feet still on the inside of the threshold, and a mixing bowl in her hand. “Are you okay?”

Mellie looked at me. Then at Lotte. She opened her mouth and closed it. Then, opened it again.

“I am so, so, so sorry… I … oh my God…” She looked like she was on the brink of falling apart.

“You should come inside Mellie,” Lotte’s brows knitted together. “You look like you’re going to freeze to death.”

Lotte started to stir whatever the heck was in the bowl and said something to my mother who was holding a glass full of red wine, her cheeks rosy.

“Come in for a drink,” Lotte called out. “You’ll catch your death. That jacket isn’t thick enough for this weather! Good lord. Bring her in, Mack.”

“Oh my God, I shouldn’t have come. I’m so sorry. I just…”

“What’s wrong?” I almost jumped at the sound of Veder’s voice.

Her eyes widened, as if she was seeing him for the first time.

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