A Family for Christmas (4 page)

A
n involuntary shudder swept through Wendy's body. Had fear or cold caused the reaction? She'd been cold ever since she'd deplaned in Columbus. The strong wind had nearly swept her off her feet and had chilled her thoroughly while they walked to the airport's parking garage.

Evan put his arm around her waist as they stepped inside a spacious room. Wendy drew a deep breath and leaned into his embrace. Two women waited for them. The older woman wore a welcoming smile. The other one stared at Wendy, an aloof expression on her face. A moment of tense silence seemed as long as an hour to Wendy as the women scrutinized her.

Wendy scanned the room. An island divided the kitchen and dining area from the family room. In her brief survey, she saw a large-screen television, two sofas, several chairs and tables, a bookcase and a fireplace framed by a massive mantel displaying many trophies and framed photographs.

“Welcome to our home,” the older woman said as she stepped forward and took Wendy's hand.

“Wendy, this is my mother, Hilda,” Evan said with unmistakable pride, and Wendy sensed the close bond between mother and son.

Wendy assumed the other woman was Evan's sister, but she didn't offer any sign of welcome. A German shepherd stirred lazily from his place in front of the fireplace and came to greet them. Evan knelt down and rubbed his dense short coat of hair, and the dog nuzzled his face.

“And this is Victor,” Evan said. “He's the boss around here.”

The dog barked up into Evan's face, and the expression of delight on his face seemed to be a dog grin.

A blast of cold air stung Wendy's legs when Olivia opened the door and carried in a piece of Wendy's luggage. Olivia slammed the door against the strong wind. “Supper smells good, Mom,” she said. “I'm starved.”

“You're always hungry,” her sister said.

“This is my other daughter, Marcy,” Hilda said.

“Hello,” Marcy said without a degree of warmth in her voice, and turned away toward the kitchen. “I'll finish the salad.”

Marcy, too, had blond hair and blue eyes, and Wendy was amazed at how much all three children shared their mother's physical characteristics. Mr. Kessler must also be fair-featured.

With a frown at her oldest daughter, Hilda said, “Olivia, show Wendy to her room, and, Evan, you
can bring in the rest of her luggage while I finish supper.”

Evan still had his arm around Wendy's waist, and she hated to leave him. He gave her a little squeeze, and she picked up her carry-on bag and followed Olivia into the central part of the house and up the carpeted stairway. The family room had been warm and cozy, but the large hallway was several degrees colder. The carpets, the wall hangings, the draperies and the furniture indicated affluence, and Wendy was uncomfortable. Wendy had never seen such a palatial house. She didn't fit in.

“The guest room is next to mine, and we'll share the bathroom between the rooms. Daddy and Mom sleep downstairs, and Marcy and Evan have rooms on the other side of the hall.” As Olivia led the way up the stairway, looking over her shoulder, she whispered, “Don't pay any attention to Marcy. She's always been jealous of Evan's girlfriends.”

Wendy stopped in her tracks. She'd been curious about any previous girlfriends Evan might have had, but he had talked so openly about his past and hadn't mentioned any romances, so she'd assumed that he, like herself, had never dated.

“Has he had lots of girlfriends?”

Perhaps realizing she'd spoken out of turn, Olivia said quickly, “I shouldn't have said that. Marcy tells me I talk too much.”

Wendy followed Olivia into the square room with ceilings that seemed to be about twelve feet high. She stood in the center of the room, feeling lost in such space.

Watching her closely, Olivia said, “Not to worry. Evan has always had lots of friends, but he's never wanted to marry anyone before. I've heard Mom and Dad fretting about it—wondering if he'd ever have any children. It's tradition for this farm to pass down to the oldest son.”

Family traditions that determined an individual's lifestyle before he was even born confused Wendy. Evan's firstborn son was destined to someday own this huge old house whether he wanted it or not. She shook her head in confusion. Her mother had been an only child, and Wendy had no thought of any responsibility toward past or future generations. Wendy knew so little about her father's family that she felt no responsibility to them, either.

“But what if Evan doesn't have a son?”

Olivia shrugged her shoulders. “I don't know! It's never happened.”

Wendy was still standing in the middle of the room, feeling bewildered, when Evan entered with the rest of her luggage.

“Mom said that supper will be ready in about fifteen minutes, so you can wait until later to unpack.”

Olivia went into her room, and Evan said, “Anything wrong?”

She didn't answer at first, but her face spoke for her. When his blue eyes met hers wistfulness flitted across her features. Her eyes clouded with uneasiness, and her body trembled.

“I don't belong here, Evan,” she whispered between uneven gasps. “It was a mistake for me to come.”

Gathering her into his arms, Evan held her tightly, and she buried her face on the front of his flannel shirt.

“Of course you belong here. I invited you because I wanted you to meet my family. This farm is my heritage, and I wanted you to love it as much as I do.” He tucked gentle fingers under her chin and tilted her head backward. He kissed her on the forehead. “You've had a long day, but you'll feel better once you've had one of Mom's meals. Why don't you take a quick shower and change into a pretty outfit? I'll tell Mom to hold supper until you're ready.”

Before he closed the door, Evan favored Wendy with a contemplative glance. She lifted her head and forced a smile to her lips. “I'll hurry, Evan.”

Although she was uncomfortable and scared, Wendy didn't want to embarrass Evan in front of his family. She hurried to shower and dress. She chose the warmest pants and shirt she had, knowing that her Florida clothes weren't suitable for this climate. The soft fabric of the velour shirt felt good to her skin and the shade of blue matched her eyes. She brushed her hair and put on long loop black earrings. Taking a last look in the mirror on the antique dresser, Wendy knew that Evan wouldn't be ashamed of her appearance. She hustled down the stairs, determined that, in spite of her inner turmoil and doubts, she would be a pleasant guest so that her behavior wouldn't embarrass him, either.

A
s the evening progressed, Wendy learned that she didn't have to pretend to enjoy herself. She really was having a good time. She felt a little disloyal when she compared the deli meals her mother served to the succulent home-cooked roast beef, baked potatoes, green beans and broccoli and cauliflower salad Mrs. Kessler served. The food was mouthwatering, and she was amazed when Evan told her that the beef, potatoes and beans were all products of their farm. The apples for the still-warm pie had grown on a tree in the backyard.

Marcy unbent to talk a little, while all of the Kesslers vied with each other to show Wendy around their home.

“I refer to this as my rogues' gallery,” Hilda said with a smile, as she pointed to the wall in the family room featuring pictures of her children from birth to the present. Wendy stared at the picture of Evan with his first birthday cake. When she commented on it,
Olivia said, “We get to choose what kind of cake we want and also the menu for our birthday dinner.”

“You make the cakes yourself?” Wendy asked Hilda.

“Yes, just like my mother always did for her children.”

“But what about your birthday? Who helps you celebrate it?”

“That's one day I don't work at all. Since the children have gotten old enough to take care of themselves, Karl always takes me out for the day. We have dinner, sometimes go to a movie. I get to choose exactly what I want to do. He always buys me a new dress, too, but I pick it out.”

Wendy thought of the grocery store cakes her mother bought for her birthday. All she'd ever done for her mother's birthday was buy a card. It seemed strange that birthdays were so special to the Kessler family.

“Look over here,” Evan said, taking her hand and guiding her to the opposite wall, covered with plaques and citations. “There are awards the Kesslers have won for their contribution to the farming industry in the state of Ohio.” He pointed to a trophy displayed on a small ledge. “This was given to my grandfather for a heifer that won first place in her division at the Ohio State Fair.”

“Daddy's livestock have taken some awards, too,” Marcy said, pointing to the fireplace mantel where several trophies were on exhibit.

“And how is Mr. Kessler? I'm sorry I waited so long to ask.”

“He's improving slowly,” Hilda said, “but his doctors have promised us that he'll be home for Christmas.”

“I'll take you to see him tomorrow,” Evan said. “He's looking forward to meeting you.”

For an hour they toured the four large first-floor rooms in the original house and Wendy learned much about the family's history. Victor followed as they pointed out ornately framed portraits of stern-looking Kessler men and their wives. The latest portrait was a colored photograph of Hilda and Karl Kessler, taken on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Momentarily, Wendy wondered if someday her and Evan's portrait would hang on these walls. If she ever became mistress of this house, would she want the faces of long-gone Kesslers staring at her every day?

 

It was nine o'clock when they returned to the family room, and Hilda said, “I'm sure Evan and Wendy want to be alone since they haven't seen each other for a few weeks. So, let's have our family devotions and give them some time together.”

Hilda sat in a rocking chair and took a Bible from the nearby table. “Usually Karl does this,” she explained to Wendy, “but I'm privileged to do it while he's away.”

Olivia and Marcy sat on the sofa, and Evan and Wendy took chairs close to Hilda. Victor laid his head on Evan's knee.

Hilda put on her glasses. “This week, we're reading verses from the Old Testament prophesying the
birth of Jesus. Tonight, I'll read from the ninth chapter of Isaiah.

“‘For to us a child is born, to us a Son is given, and the government will be on His shoulders. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.'

“Let's think about Jesus as a counselor tonight,” Hilda continued. “When we have problems that seem too difficult for us to deal with, we can take our concerns to Jesus. He's been a counselor to me during these days of Karl's illness, and my comforter, as well.”

Wendy had unwillingly participated in family devotions at her grandparents' home. Her relationship with her father's parents had been tempered by Emmalee's opinion of them. Now she wished she'd listened to what her grandfather had said, so she could more easily fit into Evan's life.

“Do any of you have any requests before we pray?” Hilda said.

“I need help with my final exam tomorrow,” Marcy said.

Evan clasped Wendy's hand. “Let's thank Him for Wendy's safe flight and her presence with us.”

“There's a new girl at school,” Olivia said. “I've tried to be friends, but she's very distant. I'd like to know how to get close to her. I think she's lonesome.”

Hilda reached her hands to Evan and Marcy, and Olivia joined hands with her sister and Wendy. Hilda took the requests of her family to the throne of God, and also asked that Karl have a night of rest and that
his recovery be rapid. Hilda prayed God's blessings upon Wendy, and Wendy sensed the conviction that God heard and would answer that prayer.

After she finished praying, Hilda stood and kissed her daughters and Evan. Then she turned toward Wendy.

“May I?” she asked, and Wendy eagerly offered her cheek for Hilda's soft kiss.

Soon Wendy and Evan were alone, except for Victor who lay down on an old quilt in front of the fire and slept. Evan stirred the embers in the fireplace and put on another log. He piled several large cushions near the hearth and motioned for Wendy to join him. As she settled into the soft cushions, Evan sat very close beside her.

Embarrassed now that they were alone for the first time since she'd broken their engagement, Wendy searched for a safe subject. “I've never sat before a fire like this,” she said. “It's so cozy, it makes me drowsy.”

“I imagine you are tired after that long plane trip, so I won't keep you long, but I wanted to tell you how happy I am to have you in our home. Christmas is always a special time, and it will be even more so with you here.”

She didn't want to tell him how out of place she felt, nor was she quite ready to deal with the tenderness and promise she read in his eyes. Wendy didn't doubt that Evan was ready to renew their engagement, but if she took Evan, that meant taking on his family and their heritage. How could she possibly live up to the example of Kessler wives when she'd never ex
perienced the close-knit bonds of a family? Relationships that Evan took for granted were mind-boggling, frightening to Wendy.

The heat from the fireplace felt good on her face and legs, but Wendy's back was chilly. “I didn't realize that Ohio was so cold. I noticed the temperature on an insurance office's clock as we left Columbus, and it was in the twenties. That kind of weather is very rare in Florida. I don't have clothes for this kind of climate.”

Evan put his arm around her. “I should have warned you about the weather. My mind hasn't been working right the past two weeks since Daddy got sick. Some winters our weather is mild, but not this year. The forecast for the next thirty days is for below-normal temperatures. I hope that won't give you a bad opinion of the area. I want you to like it here.”

Wendy had spent most of her life apologizing to her mother for some infraction or another, so she didn't know why it was so difficult for her to apologize to Evan, but she knew she had to.

Summoning her courage, she turned to face Evan and lifted her hand to caress his face. “I'm sorry I was so mean to you when you were worried about your father. I wasn't very understanding. Please forgive me, Evan.”

“I forgave your words as soon as you said them. I'd been hasty in asking you to marry me when you didn't know what all that would involve. I realize why you were disappointed.”

“It wasn't only that. I'd just had a little glimpse of happiness, and suddenly it was gone.”

Evan had often wondered about Wendy's family, and he said, “I've noticed this evening that you've seemed frightened and uneasy. We've done our best to make you feel at home, but you're still wary of us. Why?”

“It isn't your family's fault, Evan. It's my problem. I don't know how to accept love and hospitality when it's offered.”

“Why don't you tell me about your mother and your home life? Maybe that will help me understand.”

So for the next hour, while wind whined around the old house and flames crackled in the fireplace, content in the circle of Evan's arms, Wendy told him about her childhood. Of the divorce of her parents when she was eight, of her mother's disillusionment with men in general, of her mother's possessiveness that had led to a lonely childhood because her mother didn't encourage her to have friends. Of the two weeks each year when she visited her paternal grandparents, wanting to love them, but refusing to do so because her mother wanted her to hate them as she did.

As she talked, Evan saw beyond her words and caught a glimpse of a lonely child caught in the cross fire between her parents and grandparents. She'd obviously become a pawn in their dissatisfaction with each other.

When Wendy finished, she looked up at him, a piteous expression in her eyes. “You see, Evan, I can never measure up to the kind of person your family expects me to be. I'm obviously not the right person
for you—that's why I'm frightened. I had a glimpse of happiness, but I know I'm not capable of achieving it.”

He cupped her chin in his palm. “Let's get one thing straight. If you become my wife, you'll be marrying me, not my family. True, I want you to love my family. It will be our life, and I hope we can live it out in Kessler tradition, but if that doesn't work for you, we'll go another way. Until we see how Daddy gets along with therapy, I feel obligated to stay here, but I would never expect you to live anywhere you'd be unhappy. These two weeks will give you time to know us. I won't put any pressure on you for a commitment until you're ready to give it.”

Before he released her chin, Evan's lips caressed hers.

“Do you want to tell me why your parents divorced?”

“It was a personality conflict more than anything else. As far as I know, there wasn't any unfaithfulness by either of them. They just didn't get along. He had a quiet, retiring personality, not very affectionate. For some reason, Mother needed constant affirmation that he loved her. She nagged him constantly. To escape, he went to work on oceangoing steamers that kept him away from home for long periods of time. She filed for divorce, giving desertion as the cause. He really didn't desert us—he wanted to pay her alimony, but she refused. She did accept child support, which he paid faithfully.”

“Put all of that behind you,” Evan said. “I promise you your future will be much better than the past.”