A Child's Christmas

“No.” Paige exhaled. “No, I don’t.” She had no siblings, so Jason was their only grandchild. She had to tell them.

All of a sudden, she felt impossibly weary but somewhat steadier. “Thank you for talking this through with me. It’s helped a lot. Now we both need to get some sleep.”

When Mrs. Bennett rose to clear the tea neither of them had drunk, Paige stopped her. “Please don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” When Mrs. Bennett hesitated, Paige added, “Tomorrow. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

Still, when Paige closed and locked the door behind her neighbor, she went about the task of clearing up. She was exhausted, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Even mindless tasks were a distraction, and preferable to lying in bed with sleep eluding her and worries crowding her mind.

* * *

OVER THE COURSE of a long, sleepless night, Paige decided that not only did she have to tell her mother, she needed to do it sooner rather than later. If she didn’t, her mother—understandably—would never forgive her. She had a right to know. The question was how she should go about it...

Paige tried to be as cheerful as possible as she made Jason breakfast and helped him get ready for school.

As they were saying good-bye on the steps of his school building, Jason looked up at her, his face solemn, and asked, “Are you okay, Mom?”

She was quick to assure him, “Of course, sweetheart.”

He studied her carefully, his eyes mature beyond his years, and she wondered if he could sense that she was lying to him for the first time in his life.

“Okay.” He scuffed the toe of his sneaker on the concrete step. “It’ll be like before, won’t it?”

Paige knew he was referring to his treatment. At least in this, she could be honest. “I’m not sure, but I think so.” She recognized every expression, every nuance of his face. “Your head hurts, doesn’t it, sweetie?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but it’s okay, Mom.”

“Oh, baby. Come here.” She opened her arms. He threw his small body against hers, and she hugged him fiercely.

They held on to each other for a while. Then Paige kissed Jason good-bye and watched him walk up the stairs, open the door and disappear inside the school. Only when he was completely out of sight did her legs buckle. She crumpled to the steps. Burying her face in her hands, she let the sobs burst forth.

* * *

PAIGE DIDN’T GO straight home. She couldn’t stand the thought of being in the empty apartment. As she was on the evening shift this week, she wasn’t due at work until seven. She walked along the town’s cobblestone streets. She sat on a bench in the square and watched the coal-black squirrels scurry over the light dusting of snow, foraging for food. Finally, she picked up some groceries and headed home.

After putting the groceries away, she called her parents in Great Barrington, where they’d retired years ago. “Mom, it’s me.”

“Paige. How are you?”

Paige evaded the question and hoped her mother wouldn’t notice. Before she broached the reason for her call, she wanted to see how her mother was holding up. “Is Dad having a good day?”

“He’s keeping me on my toes, as usual. Always up to something. He decided he wants to build a bird feeder.”

“But Mom—”

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry. I’m not letting him anywhere near power tools. They’re long gone. I bought him a balsa-wood kit that he can assemble. The pieces are precut, and all he needs is children’s glue.” She chuckled. “You should see him. He’s having a grand time! That’s what counts.”

Paige smiled through her tears. Her mother was sixty-eight now, her father eleven years her senior. Her father was the only man her mother had ever loved. They’d enjoyed a good life, and a long and loving marriage. In two years, they would be celebrating their fiftieth anniversary. But knowing that her strong, intelligent, capable father had been reduced to relying almost entirely on her mother tore Paige apart. She had enormous respect for the way her mother was coping.

“Are you still there, Paige?”

“Yes, Mom.” Paige realized she couldn’t break the news to her mother over the phone. She’d somehow have to find the time—and the money—to take the train. “Mom, I wanted to let you know I’m coming for a visit. I want to see you and Dad.”

Her mother’s voice brightened. “That’s wonderful! When are you coming?”

Paige felt remorseful hearing her mother sound so happy. Her heart would break when she learned the reason for Paige’s impromptu visit. Why hadn’t she thought of visiting her parents with Jason weeks ago, when they could’ve had a happy reunion? Jason loved his grandparents dearly and was so sweet with his Gramps—so patient and kind. “I’m not sure, Mom. I’ll have to check my work schedule. I’ll call you back and let you know. But it’ll be soon.”

“That’s wonderful,” her mother repeated. “Your father will be very happy to see you.”

Paige doubted it, since the last couple of times she’d visited, he hadn’t remembered her at all.

“We look forward to seeing Jason, too.”

Paige paused. She considered taking Jason with her. Under the circumstances, it wasn’t a good idea. She anticipated the discussion with her mother would be a difficult one, and she didn’t want Jason to see either of them break down. “No, Mom. Jason won’t be coming with me.” Paige pulled the elastic from her ponytail and shook her hair loose. “Um...he can’t miss school right now,” she improvised. “And I’m scheduled to work some hours over the next couple of weekends.”

She felt relief when she heard someone at her door. It gave her an excuse to end the conversation. “I need to get the door, Mom. I’ll call you again soon.” They said their good-byes, and Paige went to open the door.

Chelsea Owens, her upstairs neighbor, stood in the hallway, uncharacteristically subdued, her eyes rimmed in red, her lower lip quivering. “Chelsea, what’s—”

Before Paige could finish, she was smothered in a powerful embrace. To her shock, Chelsea started to cry, and Paige stroked her back reassuringly. “Hey, what’s up?”

Chelsea pushed away, ran her fingers through her spiky black hair and tried to speak through an attack of hiccups. “Me? What’s up with me?” She began crying again. “Mrs. Bennett...” She clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were huge. She bent forward to peer at Jason’s door. “He’s...he’s not...”

She pointed repeatedly toward his room.

Understanding, Paige sighed heavily. “No. He’s not home. He’s at school. Mrs. Bennett told you.”

Chelsea sniffled and swiped the back of her hand under her nose. “I’m sooooo sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

Paige gestured for her to come in and closed the door. Chelsea stepped into the small living room and collapsed on the sofa. “Jason is such a wonderful kid. This is so unfair.”

Paige dropped down beside her. She’d had the better part of a day to come to terms with it and simply couldn’t. “Yeah. It really is.”

“Is there anything I can do? Anything at all? Just say the word.”

“I appreciate it. All I ask is please don’t fall apart in front of Jason. He’s already been through this twice. As hard as it was on him, he’s coping, thinking he’ll be through it again in a few months.”

Chelsea flopped back on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. “Poor kid. I mean, I didn’t know you back then, but I can’t imagine how he does it. How you both do it.” She turned to Paige. “And your folks. How did they take it?”

Paige rubbed her forehead where a throb was intensifying. “I haven’t told them yet. I was just on the phone with Mom. I was going to tell her, but then she went on about Dad, and I couldn’t.” She pressed her lips together. “I’m planning to go and see them instead.” She leaned forward to fidget with the decorative bowl on the coffee table. “If I can get the time off work. And put aside the train fare. I’m sure Mrs. Bennett won’t mind taking care of Jason for a few days.” Tears gathered in Paige’s eyes, and she reached for the box of tissues on the end table. “I couldn’t tell my mother on the phone. It’s not as if she can turn to Dad for comfort. I just couldn’t do it.”

Chelsea straightened. “Wait! I’ll drive you.”

“I appreciate the offer, but no, I couldn’t let you do that.”

“Then take my car.”

“I can’t do that, either. You need it to get to work.”

Chelsea shook her head. “Nah. I’ll schedule my shifts at the art gallery so they’re the same as Joel’s. You remember me telling you about Joel? He’s the cute events coordinator at work. I’ll have him pick me up. That way, I can manage without my car for a few days. You need it—so use it. It’ll be cheaper and easier for you.” Chelsea smiled. “Besides, that’ll give me a chance to spend time with Joel!”

Yes, it would be cheaper. More importantly, Paige could set her own schedule, reduce the travel time and get home to Jason faster. “Really? You don’t mind?”

“No, not at all. Honestly, it’s the least I can do.”

“It’s very generous of you, Chels. Thank you.”

* * *

THE NEXT FEW days passed quickly. Paige arranged for the time off, and she was working double shifts to make up for it. Jason also had a number of doctors’ appointments and tests in preparation for the start of his treatments, so he was missing school. Paige set up a journal—as she first had when Jason was three—to track his temperature, blood pressure and general well-being against his treatment schedule. She knew it would get progressively harder for Jason as his treatment cycle progressed, and she wanted to make sure she could accurately discuss his reaction to the drugs with his doctors.

The appointments weren’t easy for Jason, but he was very brave. The strain was wearing on Paige, though. She let herself into their apartment after a long day at work, thankful they were on the ground floor of the small three-story walk-up. She was tired and worried.

Mrs. Bennett greeted her excitedly. “Go say hello to Jason and hurry back, dear. I have good news for you.”

Paige thought she could use some good news as she checked on Jason doing his homework. She spent a few minutes chatting with him, then returned to the living room. “I’ve found an organization that should be able to help,” Mrs. Bennett announced.

“Sorry. What?”

“A charitable organization that can help you and Jason.”

With so much else on her mind, Paige had forgotten their conversation. Remembering now, she wasn’t sure she wanted to pursue it. Not only because she didn’t feel comfortable with charity, but because she knew there’d be an application process. It would mean more time and effort for her, with no guarantees. “What organization?”

“The Wish I May Foundation. It’s wonderful! They make Christmas dreams come true for sick kids. Their mission is to help families in situations like yours.”

Although not convinced, Paige agreed to speak to the organization’s executive director.

“Her name is Laura Andrews. What harm is there in talking with her?” Mrs. Bennett asked.

It wasn’t at the top of Paige’s list of priorities, but since she’d promised Mrs. Bennett that she’d call Laura, she made time for it the next day.

Paige immediately liked Laura. Laura didn’t cause her to feel inadequate or as if she was unable to care for her own child. Just the opposite. Laura gave her a sense of pride in what she’d accomplished as a single mother. Laura also shared stories of children who’d overcome equally dire illnesses, leaving Paige with a glimmer of hope.

“All you have to do is send me a picture of Jason and a list of the things he’d like for Christmas. I’ll take care of the rest,” Laura assured Paige. “But please do it quickly.”

Shortly after they hung up, Paige emailed Laura a picture of Jason, with a promise to get his Christmas list to her soon. For the first time since Jason’s diagnosis, Paige felt encouraged.

* * *

LAURA WAS IMPRESSED by Paige’s resilience and commitment to her son. She was deeply touched by the small family’s plight. Despite the number of people Laura still had on her waiting list, she couldn’t turn Paige down. Ignoring all the obstacles she knew she’d have to overcome, she promised Paige the Foundation would ensure that Jason’s Christmas wishes were fulfilled.

It meant that Laura now faced a significant challenge—to find a sponsor for Jason, with other families still needing sponsors. She’d just have to work extra-hard. She sat at her desk, staring at the image of the tousle-haired little boy grinning at her from the computer screen, when her phone rang.

“It’s Daniel Kinsley, Laura. How are you?”

“Fine, Daniel.” Laura felt a smile spread across her face. God works in mysterious ways, she thought, and gave silent thanks.

“We’ve raised enough money for everything on both kids’ lists and then some.”

“That’s terrific, Daniel! Two very deserving families will be ecstatic.”

“It’s been my pleasure. It was no trouble shopping for the families.”

Laura knew Daniel was a successful lawyer, a managing partner with his firm. She would never have expected him to do the shopping himself. Her smile broadened. “The families will be grateful.”

“I won’t keep you, Laura. I just need to know where I should send the packages.”

She gave him the address for the Foundation’s warehouse, then tested the waters. “Ah, Daniel? I just received a last-minute request for a brave little boy in dire need. With our program already in full gear for Christmas, I don’t have another company to turn to. I realize it’s asking a lot, but would your firm be willing to sponsor one more child?”

* * *

DANIEL DIDN’T THINK his partners would be enthusiastic about contributing more money. He’d pushed their generosity to the limit with the two families they were sponsoring, especially since he’d made sure they’d gone well above what was requested. No, he couldn’t commit his firm to more.

Laura rushed on before he could decline. “How about if I email you Jason’s picture and his story? Then decide.”

He didn’t see how he could refuse without sounding rude. Besides, if he’d learned one thing about Laura during their brief interactions, it was that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. In fact, he could hear her nails tapping on the keyboard as they spoke. He remembered their initial meeting, and how she’d good-naturedly maneuvered him into sponsoring two families instead of one. He sighed. She was good at her job, and he couldn’t fault her for that. “Okay. Send it to me.”

“Thanks again, Daniel. Please don’t take too long to think about it. Time’s running out...especially for Jason.”

Daniel opened Laura’s email and then the attachments. Reading Jason’s story, he ached for both the boy and his mother. They lived in Camden Falls, a town he hadn’t heard of. According to the report, it was just outside Springfield, Massachusetts, less than an hour from his office in Hartford. The brief overview told him that the mother was single and doing her best to take care of her very sick child. Daniel sat in front of his computer monitor, staring at the little boy who’d been through so much in his short life and—miraculously—was still able to grin. Jason’s blue eyes seemed to gaze directly into his.

Daniel wasn’t going back to his partners for more money. But little Jason would have everything he wanted for Christmas. Daniel would see to it—personally.

CHAPTER THREE

PAIGE WORKED EXTRA hours for a week straight, since she’d traded shifts with a colleague so she could take a few days off to visit her parents. She tried to save her vacation days to accommodate Jason’s medical appointments, and she didn’t want him to be without her over the weekend, either. She hated to leave him, but things were hard enough for Jason as it was; she didn’t want him overhearing their conversations, easily done in her parents’ small bungalow.

As they’d agreed, Paige borrowed Chelsea’s ancient silver Honda Accord for the drive to Great Barrington. The weather forecast concerned her. An accumulation of wet, heavy snow was expected, but she didn’t have much choice. Between her work schedule and Jason’s first treatment, these three days were the only real opportunity she had.

Jason was staying with Mrs. Bennett—a great adventure for him. Other than his visits to the hospital, it was the first time he’d be away from home without her. Chelsea had offered to take him to the park, promising they’d make a snowman if there was enough snow. To prove that she was serious, she’d bought carrots, a small bag of coal and even a toy pipe. Mr. Weatherly, their next-door neighbor, also offered to spend some time with him.

Paige drove through a few intense snow squalls, clinging white-knuckled to the steering wheel. She thought about stopping for a coffee but feared the storm would only get worse. She didn’t want to risk not being able to get to Great Barrington that afternoon. She drove on and hoped for the best.

Fortunately, the squalls were localized and short. She made it to Great Barrington without incident. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief when she pulled up outside her parents’ house.

Her parents adored the little bungalow, with its board-and-batten exterior stained a pale blue-gray and the shutters and trim painted a sunflower yellow. She remembered the excitement in her mother’s voice when her parents had first seen the house. Her mother had said it reminded her of a bright summer sky. Even in the dreary twilight, the house glowed with warmth and welcome.

Her mother loved to tend the gardens on either side of the porch steps. In the summer, ever-blooming annuals crowded the small space with a riot of colors. Now the gardens were cut back and neatly edged, laid to rest for the winter. With Christmas fast approaching, the house was decorated for the holidays. As a child, Paige had loved that she was the envy of all her friends at Christmastime because their house was always the brightest and most cheerful in the neighborhood.

Feeling nostalgic, Paige grabbed her overnight bag from the Accord’s trunk, stood beside the car and inhaled deeply. From the familiar subtle, smoky scent, she knew her mother had a fire going in the fireplace. She mounted the three short steps to the porch, and the muffled strains of Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” drifted out to her.

The glossy red door, adorned with a wreath of holly, was framed by a garland entwined with twinkling white fairy lights. Pewter-gray urns stood on either side of the door, filled with evergreen boughs, birch branches and twigs laden with red berries.

Despite her father’s illness, joy and love emanated from the simple little house.

Paige felt guilty about bringing sadness to her parents’ door, especially at this time of year. How was she going to do this? For once, her father’s loss of memory might be a blessing, if it spared him the cruelty of the news she had to impart.

Now that she was here, she was terrified of the impact her revelation about Jason’s condition would have on her mother, who’d been so eager for Paige to visit. In a few short hours, she’d be breaking her mother’s heart.

Paige took another fortifying breath and let herself in. Almost immediately, a sheltie scrambled out of a room on the right, bounded over to Paige and took little leaps all around her in greeting. Paige put her bag next to the front door and bent down to scratch the dog. “Hey, Iris. How’re you doing? Have you been a good girl?” Paige was rewarded with an energetic face wash.

The greeting ritual completed, Paige straightened. She brushed some dog hair from her pants, pulled off her boots and simply stood where she was. The combined living/dining area was to her left, the kitchen ahead of her, and a small den and powder room to her right. Pretty Christmas touches were everywhere—the poinsettia on the hall table beside a photograph of her, Jason and her parents, the mistletoe hung from a chandelier, and a plastic snowman they’d had since she was a child, which stood as a friendly sentinel in a corner of the hallway.

From her vantage point, she could see the Christmas tree in the living room with its bright decorations and more flickering lights, a half dozen neatly wrapped packages beneath it. A miniature tree, no more than eight inches high, with a dusting of fake snow, sat on the coffee table beside a dish of sugar cookies.

Although the fireplace was out of Paige’s sight, she could hear the logs crackling, smell the rich aroma of applewood and see the dancing reflections of the flames.

Just as she had when Paige was a child, her mother made every occasion special. All of a sudden, Paige had an overwhelming need to be held by her. She took a few steps forward, the dog at her heels. “Mom! I’m here.”

Charlotte Brooks emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Hi, honey.” Her hair was snow-white, short and stylish. Behind her glasses, her eyes were clear and bright, and the same shade of cornflower blue as her daughter’s. Her face was remarkably unlined for a woman approaching seventy. She wasn’t as tall as Paige but had a slim, youthful figure. She wore neatly pressed black pants and a pale pink sweater. A white apron was tied around her waist.

Love and admiration swelled in Paige’s chest, as they never failed to do whenever she saw her mother.

They hugged, swaying gently together. “It’s so good to see you, Mom.” Paige held on, taking strength from her mother.

When they parted, Charlotte grasped Paige’s shoulders and stepped back. “Let me have a look at you.” After a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“We’ll talk, Mom. But I’d like to see Dad first.”

“He’s in the den. Reading, I think.”

Charlotte followed Paige into the cozy room. There was a fireplace here, too, faced in green marble, with a small fire sputtering in the hearth. The room, paneled in deep, rich oak, had ample bookshelves. There was an upholstered bench seat in the bay window, with forest-green brocade drapes tied back on either side. A large, overstuffed reclining chair was positioned near the hearth.

Her father sat in the chair, his hands linked across his slightly protruding belly, his head bent forward. His chest rose and fell rhythmically with his breathing. A book was splayed open on his lap. Seeing her father like this, still youthful looking and so peaceful, Paige found it even harder to accept his illness.

Iris bolted past Paige and skidded to a stop at her father’s feet, tail thumping against the side of the chair. Paige followed her in and bent down to run a hand along her back. “Watching over Dad while he sleeps, are you?”

Charlotte had moved over to stand beside her husband. It was never lost on Paige that after nearly five decades of marriage, her parents’ love had not only endured but seemed to intensify year after year. With a loving touch, her mother brushed back the still-thick lock of salt-and-pepper hair that had fallen over her father’s forehead. When he stirred, she murmured softly, “Stephen, honey, look who’s here.”

Appearing disoriented, he gazed up at his wife and smiled. “Good morning.” Charlotte didn’t bother to correct him about the time of day. Rather, she took one of his hands in her own, gesturing with the other. “Stephen, it’s Paige.”

Stephen turned his bright smile on his daughter, and Paige’s heart melted as she crouched down so they were eye to eye. “Hi, Dad.”

Confusion flitted across Stephen’s face, but his smile didn’t waver. “Hello, young lady.”

Still uncertain whether he recognized her, Paige reached for his free hand. “How’re you feeling?”

“Oh, just fine, thank you.” His eyes cleared, and Paige held her breath. “You must be the new nurse.”

Charlotte was about to interject, but Paige shook her head. She didn’t want to cause discomfort for either of her parents, or further pain for herself. She spoke quietly with her father for a few minutes about generalities, the weather and a TV show he remembered watching. When it was evident that he was struggling to keep his eyelids from drifting shut again, she rose. By the time her mother replaced the book on the end table next to the chair and tucked a light throw around his lap, he was sound asleep.