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The Christmas Hope(20)

By:Donna VanLiere


He snapped his head to look at me. “Jolly? Is that another fat joke?”

I laughed.

“And when have you ever seen a black Santa? They’re always white with pitiful, scraggly beards. There’s one down at the shopping mall this year. The sorriest-looking Santa you’ve ever seen.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” I said, letting Roy out.

I closed the door and started to pull decorations from the bags. When Sean was a boy his little hands would pull tinsel and lights out faster than Mark and I could manage. He couldn’t contain the excitement of being that close to Christmas. At first light on Christmas morning he’d run down the stairs screaming for Mark and me to follow. It was all we could do to convince him to open only half his presents so his grandparents could watch him unwrap the other half. Each year we’d buy him a new pair of sneakers and he’d pull them on and jump to his feet. “Look how high I can jump,” he said, reaching for the ceiling. “Look how fast I can run!” Then he’d take off through the living room and kitchen shrieking as he ran.

At nine thirty I still hadn’t heard Emily. I managed to organize the decorations before hearing Emily in the bedroom at ten. Girl followed me upstairs and pushed the door open with her nose. I saw Emily going through her suitcase.

“Good morning,” I said. “Did you sleep well?”

She sat on the bed and nodded. Girl jumped up next to her. In the brief moment when she opened her eyes that morning I knew Emily had hoped, maybe even prayed, that everything in the last five months had been a bad dream. Reality is always much harsher than we expect. She looked at the pictures on the dresser behind me. “Who’s that?” she asked, pointing to a picture of Sean.

“That’s my son, Sean.”

She studied the picture. “Is that your husband, too?”

“Yes.”

“You’re married?”

“Yes.”

She looked at the building in the picture. “What is that?”

“That’s a dormitory. That’s where Sean slept when he was at college.” She leaned her head against me and looked at the pictures on the dresser. She was quiet for the longest time.

“Does my mom know that I’m here now instead of at the Delphys’?” A child psychiatrist had been talking with Emily for the last few months, helping her through her grief and although I had a counseling background I felt ill-equipped to help her. “Can she see me from heaven?”

“I think when people get to heaven that they are just overwhelmed with things to do.”

“You mean there’s lots of toys?”

“Yes. There’s everything that you can imagine and more. But even though there’s lots to do I think God parts the clouds every now and then when something special is happening so people in heaven can see what their family is doing.” I felt a catch in my throat and couldn’t speak.

“Sometimes I have dreams and my mom’s in them and we’re playing.” I put my hand on the back of her head. “Then I wake up and she’s not here.” We were both quiet. “She can never come back, can she?”

Karen Delphy had told me that Emily often asked if her mother could come back. I felt tears coming but lifted my head so they wouldn’t fall. “No.”

“Do you think she wants to come back?” I’d never thought about that question before. Once someone was in heaven would they want to come back to the life they had? It took me off guard and I thought for a moment. “Do you think she wants to come back?” Emily asked again.

“No,” I said, whispering. “I don’t think heaven is a place that you’ll ever want to leave. But I do think she’d like you there with her.” I felt my heart beating faster. I needed to change the subject. “Are you hungry?You must be starving.”

She nodded and I gave her a fresh washcloth and towel in the bathroom so she could wash her face. I went to her suitcase and pulled out a pair of cotton pants and a red sweater with Snoopy on it. I helped her dress and thought of all those mornings I’d helped Sean. Just when I’d get his clothes stripped off he’d run down the hall screaming, hoping I’d chase him. I brushed Emily’s blond hair and pulled it into a ponytail. I looked at her. She had deep brown eyes and olive-colored skin. She was a beautiful little girl. “Come on,” I said, offering her my hand. “Let’s get something to eat.”

We walked down the stairs and Emily saw the Christmas tree and decorations. Her eyes widened. “Did Santa come?”

“One of his helpers did,” I said, thinking of Roy. “He said he brought all this for you.”