Angels in the Snow (13 page)

The question came from Marilyn. Charles looked over at her. Quiet, thoughtful—observant—Marilyn. He fiddled with the book in his hands and swallowed uncomfortably. He didn't give a damn about finding happiness in heaven. What he wanted was happiness now, here on earth with his family. He cleared his throat, but before he could think of a reply, Alex spoke.

“Get Dad a phone that never breaks down, never goes dead, even when the cell towers crash and burn. A phone that he can take everywhere—even into blizzards—and still call the office, and he'll be in heaven. Right, Dad?”

The children all laughed, though none of the adults did. Judith stared down at her hands. Joe and Marilyn stared at Charles, then turned automatically toward each other.

Was that really what Alex thought? That a direct phone line to his office was the most important thing in the world to him?

Judith stood up and walked to the window. Beyond her the snow still fell in a solid white silence. Jennifer also rose, draping her popcorn garland in her outstretched hands, comparing it to Lucy's. Alex's attentions had returned to his carving, and he and Robbie were talking quietly as they worked.

Marilyn had closed her eyes and appeared to be dozing, while Joe sat back with Josie still in his lap.

“Tell me and Fluffy a story, Daddy. It'll make her feel better.”

“Okay.” Joe pressed a hand to his daughter's brow, then kissed the top of her head. “Feeling better, sugar?”

The child nodded. “Tell me the story of Little Two Eyes. I like that one.”

Lucy looked up from her popcorn. “Don't you want a Christmas story, Josie?”

Marilyn laughed, her eyes still closed. “You know your dad. He can make it into a Christmas story.”

“Oh, yeah. Like he did ‘The Three Bears' at Easter for her?”

“And ‘Cinderella' at the birthday ball,” Robbie added with a grin. “I bet I know what Little Two Eyes will want for Christmas.”

“Hey, you guys. You're going to spoil the ending,” Joe complained with a grin.

The story unfolded with frequent contributions from the audience. Even Alex and Jennifer, who had never heard the tale before, managed to throw in their own suggestions. Only Josie listened silently, her plump baby face set in serious concentration.

“Want to help us with a puzzle?” Judith asked Charles. He looked up in surprise. She shrugged slightly and gestured toward Marilyn, who was opening a puzzle box on the dining table.

“Come on, Charles. I bet you haven't worked a puzzle in years,” Marilyn called.

He pushed up from the chair, wondering if she'd urged Judith to include him, or if Judith had done it on her own. “At least ten years. What do we have here?”

“It's Custer's Last Stand.” Marilyn handed him the box cover. “Grisly, I know. But it's what we have.”

All in all the afternoon proved to be strangely pleasant. Charles, Judith, and Marilyn worked on the puzzle, sometimes talking, sometimes not. Once Joe's Little Two Eyes was happily ensconced in a new home with parents who loved her—and her first Christmas tree—he joined the other adults at the puzzle.

By then Lucy and Jennifer had four long popcorn strands ready, so the children all tackled the tree trimming with glee.

Judith kept a nervous eye on the children's hilarity. “Oh, they're going to tip it over—”

“They'll do fine,” Joe reassured her. “Here, I found another edge piece with brown and red. Weren't you looking for pieces like this?”

“That's it,” Judith crowed, connecting two long puzzle sections.

The tree was finished long before the puzzle was even halfway complete. The expensive red balls, meant to create an elegant, shimmering tree with the tiny twinkling white lights, were softened by the generous loopings of the popcorn garlands. The children had put the strings of lights up in the hopes that the electricity came on. But the firelight flickering off the glass balls, coupled with the scents of fir tree, wood smoke, and popcorn, lent the tree a simple charm that bewitched them all.

“Let's sing Christmas carols,” Josie suggested as she gazed with delight at the tall tree.

“Wait. What about the star at the top of the tree?” Lucy reminded her.

“Here,” Alex put in, handing Josie the large silvery star. “I'll hold you so you can put it up.”

Josie hesitated only a moment. As she stepped up to Alex, her confidence in him obvious, Charles saw Alex smile. It wasn't a smile he'd seen often on his son's face—not in a long time.

Alex lifted Josie up high until she could reach the topmost tree branch. It took her a few tries to get the star securely in place. Once she nearly dropped it. But Alex held her steady, and when the star was up she gave him a bright smile.

“We did it! Isn't it beautiful?”

“It sure is, Josie. You did a great job.” Alex held her in his arms a few seconds longer. “You know, we need an expert tree trimmer like you back at our house.”

“Isn't this your house?”

“No, we just came here for a Christmas vacation. But I'm glad we did,” he added, giving her a little jiggle.

Charles stared hard at Alex, unable to quite believe what he'd heard. Alex was . . . well, he wasn't acting like himself. The tall boy holding the little girl seemed almost a stranger. But a good stranger.

Josie said, “I'm glad you came here, too, 'cause there weren't any other houses close to where we wrecked.” A tiny frown crossed her face. “I hope our van is okay.”

“C'mon, Josie. Who's gonna steal it in a blizzard?” Robbie said. “Boy, I'm sure glad we didn't have to camp out in the snow. That's no fun at all.”

“What about your aunt Sunbeam?” Jennifer asked. “Does she live in her tent, even in the winter?”

“Moonbeam,” Lucy corrected her with a giggle. “And her tepee is bigger and heavier than most tents. Plus, it has a fire in it.”

“She knows how to put the tepee in places where the trees protect it from the wind,” Robbie explained.

“And sometimes, when it's really too cold, she comes to stay with us,” Josie finished.

Everyone laughed. “I hope she and her family are somewhere warm right now during this blizzard,” Judith said. “It's still coming down pretty thick out there.”

The heavy clouds and steady snow brought an early dusk, and Charles added wood to the fire while Marilyn lit two kerosene lamps to keep the dark at bay. As he looked over the living room, Charles was struck by how different it appeared from yesterday. Crowded with furniture and people, nothing remained of the magazine-picture-perfect decor.

Judith had been right, he realized ruefully. It
had
looked more like an office than a home. Now it looked like a place people would want to live: happy children at play; good smells; a comfortable sense of closeness.

It was probably just the Christmas tree, he decided as he closed the firescreen. But then Judith walked by Alex and rumpled his hair, then touched Jennifer's arm in passing, and he knew it was more than the tree. This enforced closeness might have been hellish if they'd been left here alone, but the presence of the Walkers had made it—

He paused, struggling to understand. Somehow their presence had . . . made it right.

He studied Joe and Marilyn, who were sitting with their heads together next to the rabbit's box.They lived in a flimsy dome—or at least they used to. Joe couldn't be doing much more than barely keeping food on the table. Yet his children were happy and healthy, and his wife clearly loved him, Charles acknowledged as he watched Marilyn smile and lean her head against Joe's shoulder.

As much as it galled him to admit it, Charles knew that this long-haired throwback to the '70s had found the secret to happiness that Charles had yet to discover.

But he would, he vowed with renewed determination. He would make peace with his children, and make Judith love him again.

If someone like Joe Walker could do it, so could he.

“Y
ou can't see the car anymore,” Alex announced. He looked at his parents, meeting first his mother's worried gaze and then his father's. “It's just a big white lump.”

Jennifer crossed to the window and stood beside him. “I wish the phones were working.”

“Why, so you can call Clarisse to gab?” he teased. “A lot of good that would do us.” But he nudged her shoulder gently with his elbow, and she responded with a wry grin.

“I guess being best friends with the mayor's daughter is no help at all in a blizzard.”

Alex considered that. “I suppose her father
could
call out the National Guard to come and rescue us.”

“You want to leave?” Josie asked as she insinuated herself between the two Montgomery children. “This is so much fun. Why do you want to leave?”

Alex reached down and picked her up, flipping her over onto his back while she squealed in delight. “We don't want to leave, Josie. But it is kinda weird being stuck here with no electricity or telephones.”

The child leaned forward and put her hands over his eyes. “You can't see anyway, so it doesn't matter.”

“Oh, yeah?” He bounced her up and down. “What if Santa can't see to get here? What if the blizzard stops him?”

The little girl's humor fled. “Santa can always find his way, can't he?”

Alex could have bitten his tongue. Why had he said that? “ 'Course he'll find us, Josie. That was just a stupid joke.” He looked meaningfully at Jennifer.

“That's right,” Jennifer agreed. “Santa always finds his way. Remember about Rudolph?”

“What's the matter, Josie? Afraid you won't have any presents on Christmas morning?” Robbie teased as he joined them at the window.

Josie gave her brother a relieved smile. Then she laughed. “No. I knew Santa would find us all along.” Then, with the reckless courage of the well-loved child, she plunged off Alex's shoulders into the waiting arms of her brother. Once Robbie had her, he promptly began to tickle her.

“Stop it. Stop!” she shrieked amid her giggles.

“Okay. I'll stop. I'll tickle Jennifer instead!”

In a moment they were a mass of laughing, flailing kids as Lucy also joined in. Tickling feet, underarms, waists, and necks, they collapsed in a pile. As the biggest, Alex had the advantage. But the others quickly figured that out and ganged up on him, until he was held down on the floor with Josie sitting on his chest.

“You've been a very bad boy,” she said in a mock serious voice. But she couldn't keep the sparkle out of her blue eyes, and Alex grinned back up at her. “I don't know if Santa is going to bring you anything at all this year.”

“He'll give him coal and switches.” Lucy laughed, holding tight to one of Alex's legs.

“ 'Course, there's still time to be a good boy,” Josie continued.

“I'll do anything. Anything,” Alex pleaded in a wavering, falsetto voice.

“Make him chop all the wood,” Robbie suggested.

“No, make him wash the dishes,” Jennifer threw in.

Josie tapped one finger against her chin. “I have a better idea. Alex has to play some Christmas songs for us!” She looked down at him. “Okay?”

Alex met the little girl's stare with a mixture of emotions. Christmas carols with an electric guitar? How embarrassing, even if he didn't have an amp or electricity. Still, he couldn't deny her request. She was so cute. And she still believed in Santa Claus.

He nodded slowly. “Okay. But it'll have to be some easy ones, because I don't know how to play any Christmas carols. I'll have to figure a few out.”

“Okay.” She clambered off his chest and promptly pushed everyone else off Alex. “Move. C'mon, get off,” she ordered. “Alex is gonna play us some Christmas songs, and everybody has to sing.”

By the time darkness fell, the living room was rife with new smells and sounds. Charles looked around with an odd sense of contentment. The fire, constantly supplied with logs to maintain a hot bed of coals, kept the room warm. The light from the hearth, the two oil lamps, and several candles cast a golden light over all. Perhaps it would not do for reading, but for simply sitting and watching, for listening and occasionally conversing, Charles found it splendid.

The five children were gathered in one corner, working on some scheme or another, judging by their whispers and muffled giggles. Josie had attached herself almost possessively to Alex and he didn't seem to mind. In her high little voice she sang snatches of Christmas songs to Alex as he worked out the chords for them.

Joe had given him the acoustic guitar he'd found earlier, and after a brief discussion, they had decided to use the strings from Alex's electric guitar to replace the ones on the old acoustic. Though less than ideal, under the circumstances, it would suffice.

Marilyn and Judith had a stew bubbling on the hearth, and had promised more popcorn and hot chocolate to go with the caroling. All in all, it was as close to a scene from a Hallmark commercial as Charles had ever experienced, and he found it both sweet and inexplicably sad. This was how Christmas should be—every year and for everybody. This was exactly what he had wanted.