“I understand that song, “Silver Bells,” now. I never really got it. I mean, it’s pretty, but it’s just another Christmas song until you see Christmas in the city!”
Matt paused and listened. The words of the song rushed over him as he saw people bustling along the sidewalks with arms full of shopping bags, the red and green of the traffic lights, the Santas and the bells. “You’re right. It is amazing, isn’t it? Don’t you just love Christmas?”
As a child, Christmas was the one time of the year that dreams might come true for Matt. All year long, he could hope or beg for a bicycle, a skateboard, or a video game and the chances of it happening were zero to none. However, sometime around October, his mother would change her usual disappointed answer of, “Sorry, Matt, I just don’t see how we can afford it,” to a mysterious sounding, “Well, you never know! Santa might just bring it if you put it on your Christmas list.”
Somehow, no matter how tight money was, one of his wishes was always wrapped under the tree. There were also things that he didn’t find nearly as exciting, including the school clothes that his mother always held back from their annual shopping trips. She’d buy several pairs of Toughskin Jeans from Sears and a few shirts two weeks before school started, and he always wondered why he thought they bought more than he had. Sometime around Jr. High school, he realized that his mother kept one or two outfits back for Christmas.
His stocking was a ragged pilled felt one with stretched and bare spots. His name was written in gold glitter across the top cuff. Over the years, some of the glitter had rubbed off on the first “t “making the name look more like “Malt” than “Matt.”
“What does your family do for Christmas?”
Lane shook her head and shrugged. “We don’t do Christmas. I think we did when we were really little. I kind of remember a tree with a lot of white lights and a star on top, but that’s about all.”
“But didn’t your Dad send a Christmas card with that Visa gift card thing in it?”
She dug through her purse as they walked and handed Matt the envelope. “You read it and see what you think. I just assumed he was looking for an excuse to try to help me out financially. It wasn’t necessary. We get our CD checks in a couple of weeks. Jude is being very secretive about it, so I think we must have sold really well. Either that, or he’s trying to sell a bunch more so we don’t find out that it was a bad move.”
Matt stopped and pointed across the street. “Want to go see a movie? There’s that one playing about the kid who kidnaps Santa and holds him hostage. Hope said it is hysterical.”
“Another first! I haven’t seen any Santa movies!”
“When I was a kid they used to give me nightmares.” Matt’s expression was priceless. Instant regret in sharing that little tidbit flooded his face.
“Afraid of Santa, the elves, or the reindeer?”
“All of them. I used to have this recurring dream that they all stood there laughing as I pulled an endless supply of coal from my stocking.”
“I’d laugh at you too, if you saw that as bad!”
Matt eyed her. “Say what ?”
“An endless supply of coal? That’s probably the most expensive present you could have ever wanted. Think about how wealthy you would have been with a festive mine like that!”
Matt twirled his finger around a strand of hair and tugged her through the doors. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I know. How
do
you tolerate me?”
As they settled in their seats, Matt grinned at her. Before she realized his intentions, he kissed her and imitated Patience’s movie experience by whispering in her ear, “Lane! They’re
kissing
!”
~*~*~*~
Lane slipped from her car on Christmas Eve. She’d missed the early dinner Charity had served. If she wanted to eat, she’d have to drive into Rockland. Brunswick had shut down the town at four o’clock. She’d spent the afternoon at the local nursing home, was exhausted, and her shoes pinched.
A white garment box with a large red bow leaned against the door. A green envelope with her name written in metallic gold pen was tucked behind the ribbons. Lane picked up the box confused as to who could have left it. She slipped the card from under the ribbon and opened it, carefully ensuring that she didn’t damage the envelope.
Matt’s name at the bottom of the card caught her eye before she read the card. She caught her breath and then read the card.
Merry Christmas Lane,
Tad told me about how much you liked this, so I got you one that you could use. I wanted to ship it to you, but since you’ve never given me your mailing address, I decided I had to bring it personally. I hope you don’t mind.
I love you,
Matt
An arrow scrawled with another pen indicated for her to turn over the card.
PS. Mrs. Stafford suggested I go around back and check out her beautiful woods, so I am leaving this by the door and going out back for a while. It’s cold so I probably won’t stay out there long, but if you found this box outside the front door, I’m still out there if you want to come and say hi. Hint, hint.
Lane opened the door, dropped her purse, box, and keys on the kitchen island, and then raced out the back door, down the terrace steps, and across the yard. Matt, leaning against a nearby tree, grinned as she crunched through the snow, slipping on icy patches, and then threw her arms around him. “Merry Christmas?”
“How? I can’t believe—”
Matt’s fingers twirled around her hair. “I saw you. I kept telling myself that it was all in my head, but when I saw you the other night, I knew I had seen you.”
A blush, hidden by the shadows of the trees, flushed her cheeks. “I wanted to tell you, but—”
“It’s fine. If you had wanted me to know, you would have told me. I understand.” Changing the subject, he tugged her hair and asked if she had decided whether she would go home for Christmas.
“No. I told you I’m just not ready for that. I’ve been thinking about stuff though, and I—” She shivered. “Can we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”
Lane led him through the house, grabbing her things from the island, and into her room. She kicked off her shoes and slipped on a pair of thick slippers. She tossed him a throw blanket and gestured to the chair opposite the bed. Before she could continue her thought processes, Matt gestured to the box on the corner of her bed.
“Open it. I’m dying to see if you like it.”
She fingered the box reluctantly. How do you tell someone that you don’t want to open a gift because it’s the only one you’ve ever received? She’d had birthday gifts and graduation gifts and going away gifts, but never had she received a Christmas gift that she could remember. She wanted to stare at the box, savor the experience, and wake up Christmas morning with something to open like the majority of American citizens.
Matt’s eager expression stopped her protest before she could speak. She slipped the bow off the box and folded the ribbons carefully before she sliced the tape that held the embossed box shut. Beneath layers of crisp white tissue paper, lay the Fair Isle sweater set she’d admired in the Florida yarn store.
“How’d you? I love it, of course, but I can’t wear it!”
The longing on her face was almost priceless. “It’s cotton. Well, it’s mostly cotton. The woman who knitted it found this great cotton yarn with a bit of silk in it.”
Matt spoke to an empty room. Lane, at the word “cotton,” dashed into the bathroom to try on the sweater with her slacks. She returned looking stunning in her yoke-necked work of art. “Isn’t it amazing! How did she know it would fit?”
“Tad measured one of your sweaters and one of your skirts for me.”
She fingered the design around the wrists of the sweater and studied her boots. Matt watched with an interested eye. “What is it, Lane?”
She fought for the right words. “If—well, if the church can’t provide an improvement over the world, why should I desire a relationship with the church?”
Matt started to answer, but shook his head and stopped. “Lane, I want to discuss this more than anything, you know that right?” Lane’s nod seemed hesitant, but he continued, hoping he made the right decision. “It’s just that we tend to disagree in these areas. Not that I don’t understand your question, and agree with you so far, but you know how upset we both get, and tomorrow is Christmas—”
“Let’s talk about it later then.” Her eyes twinkled as she reached into a drawer near her bed and pulled out a wrapped box. “I bought you something too.”
“Can I save it for tomorrow morning? That’s one reason I waited for you. We want you to come home and spend Christmas with us tomorrow. Aunt Judy and Uncle Rex will be there, and Mom changed the sheets for another giggle fest and everything.”
Lane seemed instantly lost in thought.
“What is it, Lane?”
“I just realized that I should have bought the gifts I wanted to give your parents. I didn’t know if it was acceptable to buy gifts for people you don’t know that well, especially if you won’t see them for the holiday, so I didn’t let myself do it and now I want to give them something—”
Matt stood and pulled out the duffle bag he’d seen peeking out from beneath the bed. “Pile some clothes in here, and hurry. There are a few places in Rockland that don’t close until midnight, so we can make it if we hurry. Let’s go, go, go!”
He’d wanted to say that it wasn’t necessary. His first inclination was to assure her that she needed no gifts, but he knew her heart. She’d want to participate in exchanging gifts and watching others be blessed. Like it or not, her Christian upbringing showed itself in every turn.
As a last minute thought, Lane tossed a couple of her CDs in the bag in case she didn’t find the same gifts she’d chosen previously. They shopped in several stores and found exactly what Lane hoped to find. Matt directed her to an overnight parking garage six blocks from his house.
“We’ll walk the rest of the way. I don’t want your car out there all night. Someone might decide it’s a perfect Christmas present.”
“How can you stand it, Matt? Don’t you worry about your parents?”
“It’s all I’ve ever known, Lane. Seeing Patience wander your property without any oversight drove me crazy at first. It is just such a part of life with us that we don’t think about it.”
They shuffled inside the house, and Matt peeked inside his room. “Mom’s out. Let’s get these things wrapped and get you in bed—” He cleared his throat and tried again. “And then you can go join Mom—um you can go to sleep.”
“Having trouble articulating this fine Christmas Eve?”
“Christmas morning actually, and yes, I am.”
She shoved him toward the hallway. “Go to bed, Matt. I lived here for a week, I can get these wrapped and in bed without your oversight. You’re tired, you’re cold, and you better have great coffee for me when I wake up.”
His hands rested on her shoulders as she stood, her back to him, and wrapped. He watched for a minute, lazily fascinated with the way her fingers expertly folded the paper to a crisp point. He finally kissed her cheek and ambled down the hallway.
Lane had forced herself to continue wrapping while Matt watched over her shoulder. Every movement seemed artificial and exaggerated under his sleepy observation. When he turned to leave the room, she glanced over her shoulder. The dejected slump of his shoulders confused her.
Was he disappointed in her lack of affection? Was this about their unfinished conversation? Would they ever come to an amicable middle ground?
As much as she enjoyed her life at Stafford House, she was lonely. The six other house members did little to give her the same feeling of love and acceptance to which she was accustomed. Each day she spent alone showed her why God had said that it is not good for man to be alone. It isn’t such a great idea for women either.
~*~*~*~
“This is the softest material I have ever felt! It’s just amazing.’” Carol rubbed her arms over her new robe, wiggled her toes in her soft cushioned slippers, and sighed contentedly.
Jake fingered his new jacket and gloves. “I just don’t know how you knew to get gloves if Matt didn’t tell you he got me this jacket! They match perfectly!”
“I had a hard time not steering her to the ones I wanted, but she got them anyway, so I don’t feel guilty at all.” Matt nudged Lane. “Open your gift!”
“I still can’t believe you got me two!”
Lane’s fingers slid under the perfectly wrapped present. She’d seen the hastily covered boxes he’d wrapped himself and knew this was wrapped elsewhere. Beneath layers of tissue and a nightmarish amount of bubble wrap, Lane withdrew a shadowbox style frame with the program from the convention with hers and Tad’s names on the entertainment billing, tickets to several of their concerts, a boarding pass from one of their flights, and their CD.
“Oh, Matt!”
Carol leaned over for a better look before she chuckled. “Remember the year you gave me something like that that you made in school? It had your best paper and your lunch tickets and a bunch of stuff like that. The frame broke, but I have it all in my picture book in the bottom drawer of my dresser.”
Lane’s eyes thanked Matt in ways her voice failed to accomplish. She propped the shadow box on the table against a droopy poinsettia and glanced at it every once in a while. “I thought you were going to give me a copy of that sonnet.”
Something in his eye told Lane she wasn’t far off the mark, but before she could question him, Jake cleared his throat and suggested that Matt get his Bible. “I don’t want to rush you, but Uncle Rex will be here soon and you know how all this religious talk upsets him.”
Carol smiled awkwardly at Lane and tried to explain. “We used to read that poem about the night before Christmas on Christmas Eve, but Matt got too old for it. Then after he got religion, he asked if he could read about the baby Jesus story on Christmas morning. I guess he is a little old for ‘The Night Before Christmas’ now…”
“That’s a lovely tradition!”