Page 35 of The Christmas Ring
“Oh no. Poor Mrs. Benson.” Sadie grabbed her purse. “We can help. Come on, Mom, let’s go.”
Vanessa found her bag and made a plan with her two friends. “Sadie and I will take care of Mrs. Benson. You two stay and oversee the decorating. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
“This is what Columbus Cares is all about.” Maria smiled at Vanessa and Sadie. “Go make a difference.”
On the ride to Mrs. Benson’s, Vanessa looked at her daughter. “I’m proud of you. For stepping up like this.”
“Thanks.” Sadie gave Vanessa’s hand a sweet squeeze. “I learned it from you. Plus, Mrs. Benson is military. She’s one of us. Part of the family.”
In the background Michael Bublé’s “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” played from Vanessa’s phone. She waited a moment. “You seemed a little quiet this morning. Everything okay with Hudson?”
“It is.” Sadie looked more relaxed. “We talked last night. He didn’t seem as down.”
“That’s good. I ask God every day to protect him.”
For a minute it seemed Sadie might say more, as if there really was something on her mind, but just then they pulled up to Mrs. Benson’s house and the moment passed.
“Oh dear.” Vanessa cut the engine and stared out at the woman’s front yard. Kids were moving trash cans and boxes of decorations and bush clippings in what felt like barely organized chaos. Others hung lights in the tree out front. And there was Mrs. Benson, sitting in one of her high-backed velvet dining room chairs in the middle of the yard.
Giving out orders.
“Yep.” Sadie allowed a quiet laugh. “That’s Mrs. Benson.”
“Let’s do this.” Vanessa led the way as she and Sadie walked up to the older woman. Mrs. Benson’s ankle might have been broken, but nothing was wrong with her voice.
“You over there.” The woman cupped her hands around her mouth so the students hanging garland on her porch could hear her. “A little higher, please. That’s right. No, a little higher still. More.”
There wasn’t a stitch of meanness or lack of gratitude in Mrs. Benson. But she had a particular way about her. And if the kids were going to help her, she was going to tell them how to do it.
Vanessa reached her first. “Mrs. Benson.” She put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Should you be out here? Your foot’s in a cast. Maybe it should be elevated.”
“No, dear.” Mrs. Benson looked past Vanessa. “Sadie Mayfield, aren’t you the spitting image of your beautiful mama. I see college is agreeing with you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sadie sidled up next to Vanessa. “Can we help you back to the house?”
“Not at all.” The woman cupped her hands around her mouth again and yelled at two other teens, “See that branch that hangs down? Make sure it has less lights than the others. That way no one will see the thing’s about to fall off the tree. That’s right. A little less.”
A teenager feebly shouted back, “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
Mrs. Benson turned to Vanessa again. “You know what they gave me at the hospital? A scooter.” She looked at Sadie. “Can you believe that? A scooter! As if this old woman is going to bebop around the neighborhood on a scooter!”
“Actually...” Vanessa folded her arms. What was she going to do with the woman? “I think it’s more about keeping weight off your broken ankle.”
“Fine, but a scooter?” She looked at Sadie again. “You still dating that handsome army Ranger of yours, missy?”
“I am. He can’t make it home for Christmas.” Sadie looked disappointed. “Of course, that’s part of the job.”
“It is, my dear. That it is.”
Vanessa took note. Maybe that was the problem. The closer they got to Christmas, the more Sadie missed Hudson.
Mrs. Benson yelled again. “The garland has to go closer to the roofline. Yes! That’s it.”
“So what happened?” Vanessa studied the woman’s cast. It went nearly to her knee.
“Oh, that wind.” The woman waved her hand like she was shooing away a fly. “I do believe it’s the windiest December in ages.” She pointed to the ladder, the one the teenage boys were using. “I was up on the ladder hanging my lights just fine all by myself when a gust came up and blew me right to the ground.”
“I suppose it goes without saying, Mrs. Benson”—Vanessa smiled—“that at your age you probably shouldn’t be climbing ladders.”
