The Widow's Choice (32 page)

“It’s almost Christmastime,” Alona said. “What do you want?”

He smiled. “I guess I got what I wanted. To get home. But
if you want to get me a present, you could always get me a pair of socks.”

“If it wouldn’t be too much bother, I’d like you to go shopping for the boys with me.”

“Sure, I’m hobbling around pretty well with a cane now.”

“You still mustn’t rush, Jason. You were very badly hurt.”

“When would you like to go?”

“Maybe in a couple of days.”

****

The first snow fell the day before Christmas, and the boys were busy building a snowman. Buddy was barking and rolling in the snow and digging at it, and Jason was watching from off to the side, leaning on his cane. “That’s the ugliest snowman I ever saw,” he declared.

“Aw, Jason, it’s hard to build a pretty snowman,” Tim protested.

“Snowmen aren’t supposed to be pretty. They’re supposed to be big and round,” Carl said as he patted some more snow onto the snowman’s belly.

Zac had grown tired of the snowman and was shuffling through the yard, making tracks in the snow. He bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. After shaping it into a ball, he sent it flying through the air. It caught Tim right on the ear.

“Hey, who did that? I’ll get you for that!”

Immediately snowballs began flying in all directions. Jason packed one and threw it at Zac. It missed, and then at the same time he heard Alona, who had come out of the house. “You’re doing too much, Jason! Don’t be foolish!”

“Oh, come on, Alona. It’s only a snowball fight.”

“You come in the house right now. Boys, you stop that.”

There were protests, but she said, “You can build snowmen all you want to, but I don’t want you throwing those icy snowballs. Somebody’s going to get hurt. Now, Jason,
you come in the house. You’re putting too much pressure on your leg.”

“You sound like a top sergeant,” Jason said, but he was grinning. They went into the house and she hung up his coat and hat. They went into the parlor, and Jason stood in front of the crackling fire, warming his hands.

“After the boys go to bed tonight, I’m going to get the gifts out that we bought for them,” she told him.

“Good. I’ll help you wrap them.”

“You can watch,” she said firmly.

“You’re treating me like an invalid.”

Alona laughed. “Well, that’s what you are, for heaven’s sake!”

Jason sank down into the couch with a satisfied sigh. “It’s been good to be home.”

Alona sat on the opposite end of the couch. “And it’s been good to have you here, Jason.”

“I thought about you all the time I was gone—and the boys too.”

She didn’t know how to respond. Although they had been alone a number of times since he’d returned from the war, he hadn’t opened up to her about whether his feelings had changed. She couldn’t assume that he still loved her. When the silence in the room started to feel uncomfortable, she made an excuse about checking on the boys and quickly left the room.

****

Alona put two more logs on the fire, and it was now burning brightly. After she was sure the boys were asleep, she had gotten the presents out and wrapped them. Now they were all under the tree, and she and Jason were sitting in silence, enjoying the setting.

Alona didn’t think she could bear the tension between them for one more minute, so she took a deep breath and said, “I’ve got to tell you something, Jason.”

“What is it?”

“I did the wrong thing to marry Oscar. I didn’t make him happy.”

“Don’t ever think that. You know the letter I got from him—the last one?”

“Yes. You never told me what was in it.”

“You can read it now. Just give me a minute to get it.”

She waited while he went downstairs to his room and returned with the letter in hand. He gave it to her and sat down next to her on the couch. She unfolded the letter, her hands not quite steady, and read it silently.

She lowered the letter and brushed the tears from her eyes. “He changed so much in his last few months. I wish you could have been here.”

“Alona, do you remember the last thing I said to you before I left to go to back into the service?”

Her throat was thick. “Yes,” she whispered, “I remember.”

He reached forward and took her in his arms. She looked up at him and knew that he was going to kiss her. When she did not protest, he put his lips against hers. After a nice gentle kiss, and then another one, he drew back. His voice was husky as he said, “My feelings haven’t changed, Alona. I still love you. I want to be with you forever. I want to do what Oscar said, to take care of you and the boys.”

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly. All tension was gone from the room, and she was filled with joy. “When do you think you can start taking care of us?” she asked, a huge smile on her face.

He laughed. “Why don’t you just learn to come out and say what you mean, Alona? I’ll tell you what. Tomorrow morning, after the boys have opened all their presents from under the tree, you can say, ‘I have one more present for you.’“ He laughed then and squeezed her. “Then you can say, ‘Here it is. Your new dad . . . ta=-daaa!’ ”

Alona found herself laughing, but she stopped when a thought came to her. “Do you think it’s too soon . . . I mean, after losing Oscar?”

“I’ve lost too much time, Alona. I want to marry you as soon as I can and start taking care of you and the boys right away.”

“I’ve lost too much time too. So the boys get a new dad—and I get a new husband for Christmas.”

GILBERT MORRIS spent ten years as a pastor before becoming Professor of English at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkansas and earning a Ph.D. at the University of Arkansas. A prolific writer, he has had over 25 scholarly articles and 200 poems published in various periodicals and over the past years has had more than 180 novels published. His family includes three grown children, and he and his wife live in Gulf Shores, Alabama.