Page 52 of The Blessings of Christmas
“See you, Sarah.”
“Good night.” How she hated to close the door, but her teeth were chattering. Outside his truck roared to life. Pushing back the curtain, she watched the truck until he put his blinker on and turned.
The room felt empty without him, except for the tree. Sarah collapsed in the rocker. “I sure hope I know what I’m doing,” she told the little tree. “How are you holding up?” Falling to her knees, she felt the water pan. Dry and she trotted out to the kitchen to fill a pitcher. “You’ve got to make it through the holidays,” she said, filling the pan.
With all the lights off, the tree glowed, a beacon of hope.
“Good night, little tree.” She clicked the lights off and dragged herself upstairs.
Somehow she got her pajamas on. After brushing her teeth, she huddled in her bed, Jamie’s picture on her knees. “See, here’s the thing, Jamie,” she told him. “I really care about Ryan. And I think you’d like the fine man he’s turned out to be. No more reckless stunts. He’s good with the boys.”
Kissing her finger, she pressed it to the glass like always. Setting the picture on her bedside table, she sighed. “If you could give me a sign, Jamie. Let me know that what I’m doing, how I’m feeling about Ryan, well....just let me know it’s okay. Somehow.”
CHAPTER 12
“Mommy, Mommy!” The boys’ excited voices woke Sarah up the next morning. Bleary-eyed, she stumbled down the stairs.
“What is it?” In the early morning darkness, the lights glowed in the living room. “Did you turn the tree on?”
Nathan’s chin came out. “I’m a big boy.”
Sighing, she slipped onto the sofa, wishing it still held Ryan’s warmth. “I know you are, sweetheart. But what’s the problem? What time is it anyway?”
“The tree.” Sitting cross legged in front of their tiny tree, Justin looked up as if he were seeing Santa himself in those boughs.
The boughs. “My word. What happened?” Who had slipped into the house in the middle of a winter’s night to swap out their pathetic excuse for a Christmas tree for this beauty?
The luscious smell of pine hung in the air, as heavy and thick as the branches on their Christmas tree. Melting onto the sofa, Sarah could only stare. The configuration was the same, but the tree seemed fuller. She drew closer. “The crooked branches had sagged into the bare spaces. The tree still wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs.
“Santa must have come and helped our little tree,” Nathan said with the outrageous belief of a five year-old. “There are more needles on it.”
“Or maybe a Christmas angel.” There could only be one explanation. She pulled her legs up under her.
Thank you, my love.
Some things are beyond human logic. Sarah let her suspicions rest with that explanation. Blessed by love, the tree carried a message that transcended time and space. The message had reached her and Sarah cradled it in her heart.
Their heat was set to click on at six in the morning, and the cold floor told her it wasn’t that time yet. Too early to get up. Shaking out the green afghan, she beckoned to Nathan and Justin. “Come here, boys. Let’s cuddle.”
“But I want to look at the tree,” Justin said, his fingers skimming over the boughs.
“And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
The boys piled onto the sofa and together they shared their warmth. Savoring the tree, now resplendent in its glory, Sarah knew in spirit there were four of them.
Ryan was whistling“I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” when he came down the steps early the next morning. That was Lila’s holiday favorite and he caught her humming it all the time. After the evening with Sarah and the kids, he felt totally content. Burned chili and all, decorating the tree took him back to his childhood and the experiences shared with his brother. Somehow Jamie always made things right. That’s how the evening had felt...right.
A cool blue moon shone through the high windows of the garage, glancing off the Harleys and cars in the darkened shop. Branson Motors had been his world for a long time. But maybe that was changing. He’d had a call on his phone from Stuart. They were going to meet about the new business plan for The Full Cup.
The light was on in the office.
“Who’s making all that noise?” Stanley called out.
Smiling to himself, Ryan stepped around the tools and vehicles and made his way back.
“Sounds like you’re the one yelling, old man.” Ryan leaned against the doorframe. “Is that your breakfast?”
“Want some instant oatmeal?” Stanley kept a hot plate back here. He held up a mug that said Cranky Old Geezer.
