Christmas at the Hummingbird House (19 page)

“Don’t be absurd, Purline,” Paul said, though with obvious difficulty.  “The children were right, we offered to help.”

“You wouldn’t let us give them money,” Derrick went on, “so we donated these things to the cause.”

“Besides,” added Paul, “no point in upsetting the little tykes the night before Christmas. After all, they worked hard for the goat. They deserve something for their efforts.”

He managed a strained smile as he patted Naomi on the head.  “Go in good cheer, little ones. Merry Christmas.”

Purline fixed them both with a long hard stare, her lips tightly compressed and her churning eyes unreadable. Then, without warning, she flung herself on Paul, hugging him so hard that he staggered, and then on Derrick.  “I’ll make this up to you,” she whispered fiercely, “if it’s the last thing I do.”

Derrick patted her shoulder uncertainly.  “Well, perhaps a little less starch in the whites,” he suggested.

Purline stepped back, sniffed, and smoothed both hands on the sides of her jeans.  She raised her chin and said, “Well.  Looks like the good Lord taught me a lesson in humility this Christmas.  Maybe I won’t be so quick to judge next time.”

Paul replied, “A good lesson for all of us.”

She turned to gather up her brood, and then looked back over her shoulder, frowning a little.  “Of course,” she pointed out, “your van is still missing.  And so is everybody in it.”

Carl Bartlett moved to the window of the parlor and watched the Christmas lights pop on all around the garden—the white branch lights, the blue and pink spotlights, the cascading curtain lights.  It was like looking at the sky upside down.  Behind him the fire crackled and the Christmas tree sparkled and the chatter over the excitement of the last few minutes was lively.  There was plenty to drink and more than enough to nibble on from the leftover tea tables, and no one seemed to want to leave.  He did not want to draw attention to himself by being the first to do so.  Besides, his girls still weren’t back.

Leona came over to him.  “I tried calling Kelly again,” she said.  “All I get is an out of service area message.”

“I’m sure they’ll be back any time now.”  He was amazed at how calm his voice sounded, how easy it was to have a normal conversation.  “The deputy said there hadn’t been any reports of accidents involving a van like theirs.  It’s Christmas Eve traffic.”

She said quietly, “This has to have been going on for weeks.  Why didn’t you tell me what you were going through?”

He was silent for a moment, watching the lights.  “I didn’t think I had the right.  I was about to blow up everybody’s world.  Yours, mine, the girls.  I wasn’t sure … I wasn’t sure how any of you would react to what I had to tell you.  So I thought if I could pretend everything was normal for just another couple of weeks … If we could have one last Christmas …”

Leona tilted her head, studying his profile, and understanding dawned slowly. “You didn’t think we’d support you.”

He drew a breath.  He said, “I’m in charge of operations. I’m responsible for everything that goes out of that company. I should have figured out what was going on sooner, but I didn’t.  Charges could still be brought against me.”

She said sharply, “You’ll never serve a day in jail.”

He couldn’t quite meet her eyes.  “After this comes out, I’ll be virtually unemployable.  We’ll have to sell the house.”

She gave a dismissive toss of her head.  “I’ve got a law degree.  It won’t kill me to put it to actual work for a change.”

He said, “It’s going to get ugly.  The girls aren’t used to hard times.”  He looked at her somberly.  “You don’t have to go through this with me. None of you do.”

Leona replied mercilessly, “Our daughters are spoiled, ungrateful and self-centered.”  She wrapped her fingers around his arm, angling her body to look up at him.  “They’ve gotten used to thinking of you as just the guy who brings home the paycheck.  Maybe I have too, if I’m being perfectly honest.  It’s easy to take things for granted when life is rolling along the way you want it to.  We’ve all gotten lazy and spoiled and complacent, and maybe it takes something like this to wake us up, because that all changes today. Being a family takes
work
, Carl, it’s not something that just happens. And how dare you think we wouldn’t stand by you.”  She pressed her cheek fiercely against his arm.  “How dare you.”

He drew her into his arms and closed his eyes, just holding her.  “I love you,” he said huskily.  “And I’m sorry.”

“Me to,” she whispered.  “On both counts.”

She stepped away from him as headlights flashed on the window and exhaled her relief.  “Thank goodness,” she said.  Over her shoulder she called, “Everyone!  They’re back!”

Derrick hurried into the kitchen, where Paul was setting up the fondue pots for the informal fireside Christmas Eve supper.  “As long as the booze holds up, I think we’re going to be okay,” he said, rubbing his hands together anxiously. “Everyone seems to have forgotten about the burglary and moved on to gossiping about Mr. Bartlett—which, fortunately, he doesn’t seem to mind.  Good heavens, how many criminals can this house hold, anyway?”

“Well, thank God the only ones we’re responsible for are of the juvenile variety,” Paul said.  “Good decision to wait until tomorrow to give Purline her gift, by the way.  One more gesture of kindness tonight would have done her in, I’m afraid.”

Derrick said, “You know what this makes us, don’t you?”

Paul refused to answer, and Derrick supplied, “Nice.”

“Well,” Paul admitted grudgingly, “I suppose there are worse things to be.”  He handed a tray filled with fondue pots and sterno cups to Derrick. “By the way, did Mr. Phipps ever return?  He left hours ago, and if he and his wife aren’t going to join us for supper …”

Headlights flashed on the window and Derrick said, “That might be him now.”

Paul turned, and then practically sagged with relief as he recognized the profile of the vehicle.  “No.  Thank God, it’s the van.”

Derrick put down the tray with a clatter and the two of them ran out into the cold without their coats to greet the wayward travelers.

“Thank goodness!” Derrick exclaimed as the first passenger door slid open and the two teenagers climbed out, their hands filled with plastic shopping bags.  “We were so worried!”

“Mildly concerned,” corrected Paul, ushering the two girls up the steps, “only mildly concerned.  We knew you were safe in the very competent hands of our highly insured driver.”

Angela Phipps climbed out next, and her hands were also filled with bags.  Moreover, she was laughing.  Neither Paul nor Derrick could remember seeing her laugh since she’d been here.  She was followed by Geoffery Windsor, who had apparently made the remark that made her laugh, because he was smiling too.  His hands were also filled with shopping bags.

“Mr. Windsor!” exclaimed Paul, gripping his hand, “Welcome back!  We’re so glad you changed your mind.”

“Actually,” Geoffery began.

“We missed our flights,” said Cici, who was the next to emerge.

“All of us,” added Lindsay.

“The van broke down,” Bridget explained.

Dismay swept both men’s faces as they stared at their rumpled, disheveled friends.  They were also carrying plastic shopping bags.

“Oh, no!” Derrick exclaimed. “Oh girls, how horrible!”

“We’re so sorry!” Paul added, distraught.  “I don’t know how this could have happened!  The van is only six months old!  How could this have happened?”

“Actually,” Bridget said cheerfully, “it was quite an adventure.  And you know what they say—everything happens for a reason.”

“We just feel bad that you went to so much trouble for nothing,” Cici said.

“And I hope those tickets are refundable,” added Lindsay.

“We asked your driver to stop here first,” Cici said, “because we knew the girls’ parents would be worried.”

“And I could use a bathroom,” Lindsay put in.

“And we wanted to deliver these,” Bridget said, holding up her two hands filled with packages.

“Well, you’re staying for supper, no arguments or questions,” said Derrick.  He spread his arms and ushered them through the door like a hen herding chicks.  “And Christmas dinner tomorrow without question.  I’m just devastated your flights fell through!”

“We’ll call the airlines,” Paul promised, following close, “and get you on the very next availables.  Don’t you worry, you will be with your loved ones this holiday season, I promise you that!”

“Really,” said Lindsay, “a bathroom would be just fine.”

They arrived in the parlor just as the girls were piling their shopping bags at an astonished Mrs. Hildebrand’s feet.  “We thought it would be cool to get some stuff for those kids in Haiti,” explained Pamela. She punctuated her words with a lift of her shoulders that was designed to indicate complete detachment.  “You know, some toys or video games or something, stuff they can’t get over there.  Since it was Christmas and all.”

“But then all the stores were closed,” explained Kelly.  “The good ones, anyway. So we ended up going to Walmart.”

Pamela’s parents stood a little way off, their hands entwined, staring at their daughters as though they had never seen them before.

“It was Mrs. Phipps’s idea,” Pamela said.  “She said kids that don’t have their own room need a place to keep their stuff.”

“So we got backpacks,” said Kelly.

“And things to put in them,” Pamela said.  “Books, mostly, because, well …” She glanced at the older woman, looking suddenly shy.  “We figured they liked stories.”

“But other things, too,” Kelly said, upending one of the bags.  “Fingernail polish and hairspray for the girls …”

“Tee shirts and model airplanes for the boys,” said Geoffery, adding his bags to the pile.

“Sketchbooks and colored pencils,” said Lindsay, placing her purchases among the other, “and crayons and coloring books for the younger ones.”

“And what’s Christmas without candy?” said Bridget, adding her bags. “Along with a few more practical things, like glittery toothbrushes and fun-flavored toothpaste.”

“We really did have the best time,” said Cici, placing her bags among the others. 

Angela was the last to add her bags. “It’s been so long since I went shopping on Christmas Eve,” she said, “I’d forgotten how much I loved it.  And shopping for children … well, I may have discovered a new tradition.”

Behind her a voice said, “It sounds like something I’d enjoy sharing.”

Angela turned to see her husband standing at the door, still wearing his coat, the wool scarf loose around his neck.  She straightened up slowly and walked to him.

“I got some glitter markers,” Kelly was saying, “I thought we could write each kid’s name on her backpack.  But you’ll have to tell us what they are.”

“Girls,” said Mrs. Hildebrand.  “I really … just don’t know what to say.”

There were tears of pride in Leona Bartlett’s eyes as Angela passed her, and she heard Carl murmur to his wife, “I think our girls are going to be okay after all.”

Angela stood before Bryce, who still smelled of the cold night and leather car seats.  He said, “By the time I got your note the van had already left.  I went to every airport and train station.  I tried to call every ten minutes.” He dropped his gaze briefly.  “I didn’t want … don’t want to spend the rest of my life remembering Christmas as the time I lost you, too.”

He looked at her, and then, gently, reached out and took both of her hands in his large cold ones.  “I shouldn’t have said what I said the other night.  I love you, Angela, and it doesn’t even matter whether you love me back.  I’m not ready to give up on us yet.  I thought I was. But I’m not.”

She said, “I’m glad.  Because I’m not ready to give up either.”  Her grip tightened hesitantly, and then with more boldness, on his.  She searched his eyes.  “I want to talk, Bryce. I want to talk to you about what happened.  I want to talk about David, about our marriage, about everything.  I realized this afternoon that in all these years, after everything we’ve been through, we’ve talked to a lot of people—counselors, therapists, pastors, family, friends—but we’ve never really talked to each other.  Can we do that now?  Would that be okay?”

Everything in his face softened: his eyes, his smile.  He lifted a hand and caressed his wife’s neck gently.  “Yes,” he said.  “I think that would be okay.” 

Paul and Derrick hovered at the edge of the room, anxiously looking over the goings-on.  “Everything seems to have worked out okay,” Derrick said. “Everyone’s home safe and sound, no one was arrested …”

“No one’s suing us,” Paul was quick to point out.

“All’s well that ends well,” said Derrick.

“I’m just broken-hearted about the girls,” Paul said.  “What kind of Christmas is this for them?  They spent the entire day on the side of the road, their loved ones are thousands of miles away …”

“They’re being good sports about it,” Derrick said, “but I can’t imagine how disappointed they must be. I almost think it would be better if we’d never gotten their hopes up.”  He caught his breath sharply and his eyes lit up with a sudden idea.  “Do you know what we should do?  We should set up a video chat with everyone!  A Christmas in cyberspace!”