The Christmas Train (13 page)

“I can?”

“Sure.”

Anna had forgotten how scared she was until he stopped a little ways from the front steps. They sat in silence until he said, “Will you be okay by yourself for a few minutes?”

She stared down at her knees. “Yes.”

“Okay, then.” He hesitated a moment. Was he going to change his mind and take her in with him? “I better get on with it.”

He opened the door and started to get out until she said, “Are you nervous about telling your mom and dad about me?”

Slowly he closed the door. “A little.”

“Are they gonna be mad? I mean, really mad?”

“Yeah, I think they will be. But only at first. Mad at me, though, not you. But they'll get over it. I'm not . . .” He paused as if weighing his words. “I'm not nervous about them being mad at me. It's just . . .” He blew out a heavy breath and stared out the front windshield. “I hate disappointing them, you know?”

Anna saw his throat convulse as he swallowed.

“I lied to them,” he went on. “I think it'll take a long time for them to trust me again.”

Anna thought about that after he left the car and slowly trudged up the front steps. Nana Rose hadn't trusted Anna's mother even though she was her own daughter. She had lied so many times and disappointed her, too. Maybe Nana Rose had trusted her a long time ago, but not any of the time Anna remembered. Nana Rose had trusted Anna, though, and Anna was so glad she'd never lied to her grandmother. Would these new grandparents trust her?

Maybe not right away, she decided. But if she never lied to them and always used good manners and kept on making good grades, maybe they would learn to trust her. That was the best way to be: trustworthy. And also to trust other people.

And if they trusted her, maybe they'd start to love her, too.

She unlatched her seat belt and knelt on the seat to see herself better in the little mirror on the sun shield. When she pulled off her stocking cap, her bangs stood straight up, all electrified. And when she tried to smooth them down, most of them just stood up again. So she jammed her cap back on and rearranged her scarf so it hung just right with the fringe nice and neat.

A cardinal flitted by, a red flash against the sunny white landscape. To her utter delight, it landed on the animals' Christmas tree. Trying to be very quiet, she opened the door and slid out of the car. A pair of brownish birds were eating there, too, one picking at an orange wedge, the other at a dangling pinecone stuffed with the peanut butter and seeds her father had mentioned.

If only she'd brought her camera with her! But it was in her bag at the apartment. She'd bring it next time. If there
was
a next time.

“Anna?”

She whirled around at her father's call. He stood on the porch with two other people. Her grandparents.

Suddenly Anna felt sick to her stomach. She backed up a step, and with a flutter of wings all three birds scattered. She wanted to scatter along with them, to fly back to her old life, where she and Nana Rose took care of each other and loved each other, and nothing ever changed except for a new schoolteacher each year.

Only that life was gone. Just like the life Miss Eva was looking for was gone.

Gritting her teeth against any show of fear or sorrow, Anna started forward. Snow crunched beneath her boots, step by step by step. It was a fun sound when you were playing with friends. But today it sounded ominous, like in a scary movie.

The man on the porch looked like an older copy of her father. A little heavier, but the same height and shoulders and light hair; he was staring at her. The woman had darker hair and was a little chubby. Younger than Nana Rose, but she looked nice.

Then the woman ran down the steps. Without any jacket or boots she ran straight across the yard to Anna, not caring that the snow covered her shoes.

“Anna.” She stopped when they were only a couple of feet apart. Her eyes were sparkly and blue, like Anna's eyes. Except that the sparkle was because she had tears in them. “I've been waiting for you for such a long time.”

Dumbfounded, Anna's mouth dropped open. “What? You mean you knew about me?”

“No. No,” the woman repeated, laughter in her voice. “What I mean is I've been wanting a grandchild so badly. And now”—she lifted her hands palm up—”just like magic, you show up!” She opened her arms wide. “Welcome to our family.”

Anna burst into tears, then she barreled straight into her new grandmother's embrace.

T
OM
perched at the edge of a chair in his father's study. So far so good. Anna and his mother had bonded the minute they locked eyes, and for that he would be eternally grateful. His father had been equally warm and welcoming to the child, no real surprise given that he was an elementary school principal. He hadn't been so warm, though, when Tom had broken the news to them.

“A child?” his mother had said when she finally could speak.

“A ten-year-old child?” his father had bitten out, like the drill sergeant he once had been.

“But, Tom, how long have you known about her?” his mother had asked. “Where is she? When can we meet her?”

“Why are we finding out about this now, ten years after the fact?” That question had silenced even his mother, and though Tom had faced them without flinching, inside he'd shriveled in shame.

“I knew Carrie was pregnant. But when she wanted to get married and I didn't agree, she left school saying I would never see or know my child.”

“Oh, how terrible.” His mother had pressed a hand to her throat.

“So she raised her with no input from you? No financial help?” His father's words skewered him.

“I wanted to help. I got her home address before I graduated and wrote to her, but she never replied. Then when I figured the baby must have been born, I checked in her hometown paper and found out it was a girl. Anna Rose. I sent Carrie checks, and though she never contacted me, she cashed them. But then she moved and I lost track of her.”
But I could have tried harder to find her.

His father paced to the window then back. “Do you know how many fatherless kids I see at my school? Do you have any idea how hard life is for them? How they struggle in school? How they struggle emotionally? How they need—” He'd broken off in agitation. “Where is she?”

Tom had barely been able to speak. “Outside. In the car.”

Now, after the “meet-and-greet” that had gone so well, Tom was back on the carpet, and this time without the softening factor of his mother's presence.

“Anna seems like a nice, polite little girl,” his father began. “No thanks to you.” His jaw worked from side to side. “Why did her mother decide now to send her to you?”

“Anna told me she's actually lived with her grandmother the past five years or so. But she died a couple of months ago, and apparently Anna's mother still isn't up to the job of raising her.”

“And you are?”

Tom flinched under his father's barely contained temper. But he knew he deserved it. “I'm all she has. So yes, I
am
up to the task.”

His father studied him a long, uncomfortable moment. “So you're going to move her into your apartment, find her a school, and after-school care, too. Then you'll need summer camps because you'll be at work. And your vacations? Forget your quick jaunts to New York or the Caribbean. It'll be Six Flags and Disney World from now on. How's Joelle going to feel about that? And speaking of Joelle, how did she take the news of your previously undisclosed fatherhood?”

Tom sank back into the chair. “She—” He shook his head. “Pretty well, all things considered. She's . . . she's pretty disappointed in me. Not because of Anna, but because—”

“Because you lied to her all these years?”

“I didn't exactly—”

“Lie? Come on, Tom. You lied. You lied to all of us when you hid the existence of your child.”

“Yeah.” Tom leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He'd been a totally neglectful father, and now everyone he loved knew it. “Yeah. You're right. You'll never know how sorry I am about all this. And I know I deserve everything you and Mom and Joelle want to dish out at me.”

“And Sarah. I'm pretty sure your sister's going to blister your eardrums.”

Tom closed his eyes and shook his head. “No doubt. The thing is . . .” He lifted his gaze to meet his father's frustrated expression. “Anna needs me. She needs me and I plan to be there for her. This time I will
not
let her down.” Their gazes locked, father and son, man to man. “I need you and Mom to wholeheartedly be her grandparents.”

“How can you doubt that? You saw your mother's expression when she first spied Anna.”

“I did. But what about you?”

His father scowled down at his feet, then lifted his head to face Tom once more. “I plan on being the best damned grandfather in the whole damned world. Frankly, it's not me and your mother I'm worried about. It's you.”

Tom stood up to glare back at him. “And I plan on being the best damned dad.”

“Just see that you do.” His father turned and stalked from the room.

A
NNA
trailed Mrs. Thurston around her home. It was a big house. The living room and dining room by themselves were as big as Nana Rose's whole house. Their family had lived in this house a long time, ever since her father and his sister were real little. She saw his old bedroom, now an exercise room with a stationary bike, a treadmill, and a television, and his sister's bedroom, now the guest room. There was a back porch and a backyard even bigger than the front yard.

But it wasn't the house or her new grandmother's rambling descriptions or amusing stories about her father's childhood that Anna paid attention to. It was the sound of her voice. How warm it was, how it rose and fell almost like music.

Her grandmother. How odd to think of this woman she'd just met that way. But she
was
her grandmother, and she really liked Anna!

Anna could tell that because even though her grandmother kept up a constant chatter, moving through the house, upstairs then down again, she kept glancing at Anna like maybe Anna was going to disappear and she didn't want her to.

But Anna had no intention of disappearing. She would be perfectly happy to stay here in this house with her new grandmother forever. Her new grandfather, though . . .

The bubble of excitement in her chest began to deflate. Her new grandfather had been nice enough to her. He'd smiled at her and shook her hand and asked her what grade she was in and if she liked her old school. But he was not happy about the situation. She could tell that. So no, he wouldn't want Anna here in his house. He'd gone off with her father—his son—probably to yell at him about everything.

“So, what would you like to call me?”

Anna blinked back to the moment. Her father's mother had her hands clasped to her chest as she smiled down at her, sparkling as if she was glowing from the inside out. Anna felt that sparkle on her, like sunshine that warmed her through and through.

“To call you? I . . . I don't know,” Anna answered in a whisper, afraid to disrupt the perfect sparkle that surrounded them.

“Well. What did you call your other grandmother?”

“Nana Rose.”

“Hmm.” She signaled Anna to climb up on one of the kitchen bar stools. “My name is Ernestine, though everyone calls me Ernie.”

“Ernie? Like on
Sesame Street
?”

“That's right. And since my husband's name is Bert, you can imagine all the teasing we get.”

Anna suppressed a smile. Bert and Ernie. Her mind spun with the possibilities. “So . . . I get to choose your special grandmother name?”

“I think it's only fair. Don't you?”

This time Anna's grin came out full force. “Okay. But it has to be a name nobody else calls you.”

“Sounds good. Just you and any other grandchildren I may have.”

Anna considered that. “Are you going to have any more?”

She laughed. “That's not my decision to make. Remember, though, any other grandchildren I get would either be your brother or sister, or else your cousins.”

That actually sounded kind of cool. Anna's friend Kit had two brothers and a whole slew of cousins. Anna nodded. “Okay. I can share your name with them.”

“Great. How about some hot cocoa and cookies while we think about it.”

“Sure.”

In the end it was easy. Not Granny or Nana this time. And not Ernestine or Ernie. But as her grandmother fussed around the kitchen, filling it with the smells of chocolate, and decorating the steaming mug with tiny marshmallows and a sprinkle of nutmeg and cinnamon, Anna was reminded of a cheerful bird, busy attending her nest and her chicks.

Ernestine and her nest.

Nest.

“How about Nesta? You could be Nesta.”

Her grandmother slid the mug of cocoa across the counter to Anna. “Nesta. From Ernestine, right?” She smiled, showering Anna once more with the sparkles of her love. “Nesta. I love it.”

H
ER
father was subdued when they left his parents' house. Anna wanted desperately to know what he and his father had talked about, but she was afraid to ask. What if her grandfather had told him to send her back to her mother? What then? She crisscrossed her legs on the car seat and pulled her mittens off and then put them back on. Nesta wouldn't let them do that, would she? No, Anna told herself, Nesta wanted to keep her in the family. Anna was positive about that.

If only she could live with her new grandmother.

Her father cleared his throat. “Do you want to check on Miss Eva back at the hospital?”

She glanced sidelong at him and then away. “That would be good.” And maybe Miss Eva could tell her how to get Mr. Nesta to like her better. After all, Miss Eva knew all about fathers, while Anna didn't know anything at all about them.