EIGHT
The word which God has written on the brow of every man is Hope.
—Victor Hugo
I opened my eyes at six. It was Christmas morning and for the first time in years I didn’t feel any sense of dread. I felt joy. But that couldn’t be possible, not given Emily’s situation or mine and Mark’s. How could I feel such excitement about today? I leaned up on the bed and looked at Emily. Please open the doors of a beautiful home for her with parents who will be crazy about her. Help her to enjoy today. Somehow. Some way. I tiptoed out of the room and headed for the bathroom. I wanted to shower before everyone got there to watch Emily open her presents. Mark had put them under the tree last night after she had gone to bed. I turned the water on in the shower but thought I heard the doorbell. It couldn’t be. Not at this hour. I thought I heard it again and turned off the water. Nothing. If it was the doorbell I assumed Mark would have heard it, too. I showered and got ready for the day before heading to the living room to plug in the tree. It was gorgeous. I found the camera so I’d be sure to have it with me as Emily opened her presents. I went to the kitchen, put the turkey in the oven, and started to peel sweet potatoes when I heard a door open upstairs. Girl’s nails clicked on the hardwood floor at the top of the landing. “Patricia.” I put down the knife and walked to the stairs. Emily and Girl were standing at the top resembling a picture on a Christmas card. Emily’s hair looked as if it had been teased and ratted during the night and one of the legs of her pajamas was halfway up her calf. She held Ernie as Girl stood next to her, wagging her tail. “Is it Christmas?”
“It sure is,” I yelled, throwing open my arms. “Merry Christmas!”
Mark came out of the hall bathroom dressed and ready for the day. “Merry Christmas,” he yelled. Girl barked and ran down the stairs. Mark picked Emily up and ran down the stairs, showing her the tree.
Her jaw dropped. “Did Santa come?”
“He sure did,” Mark said.
“He knew I was here?”
“Just take a look.”
He set her down and she walked to the tree, looking at the names on the gifts. “That’s my name,” she said, looking for the tag on each present. “They’re for me. He did know I was here. I don’t believe it!”
I sat down next to her on the floor. “Greta and Hal really want to be here as you open your gifts. Can you wait thirty minutes?”
She shook her head.
“Can you wait twenty-five minutes?”
She nodded.
I laughed and reached for the phone. “Are you up?” I asked Mom. “Because Emily’s ready to open!”
I hung up the phone and dialed Greta and Hal. Hal answered again. “Are you up?” I said, louder than usual. “Are you up?” I was shouting this time.
Emily giggled.
Greta answered the phone. “Are you ready to unwrap gifts?” I asked.
“Oh, my, yes,” she said. “Hal, go get your hearing aids in. Your hearing aids. Your ears.” She was shouting into the phone. “Right. Go get them. We’ll be over just as soon as I can get some pants on Hal. I’ve got everything ready.”
Mark made a fire and put on a pot of coffee to brew. Emily didn’t move from the tree. I was able to convince her to use the bathroom and wash her face and brush her teeth before everyone arrived. When she finished she took her place in front of the tree again. Within minutes the house was buzzing. Mom arrived carrying an enormous coffee cake loaded with nuts and raisins and gooey stuff that ran down the side of it. Greta arrived with a huge bowl of mixed fruit (to offset the calories and fat of the coffee cake). With coffee cups in hand we gathered in the living room. Emily couldn’t wait any longer. She opened the Easy Bake oven first and her eyes popped out. “I’ve wanted this since I was little,” she said. Greta and Hal had bought her a new winter coat. It was pink with large round pink buttons and fake white fur around the collar. She tried it on and looked like a tiny Audrey Hepburn. The books came next and she flipped through each one looking at the pictures and pretending to read. I looked at the faces in the room and realized it didn’t matter that there wasn’t a gift under the tree for any of us. This wasn’t about us. Emily propped her new baby doll in the stroller and covered her with a little blanket. “I’ll be done in a minute,” she said to the doll. “Then we can play.” I snapped a picture but Emily didn’t notice. With each gift that was opened we all said “Ooh” and “Ahh” or “Wow, isn’t that nice!” She opened the jewelry box from Roy and wound up the ballerina so she would dance for us. Emily put strands of beads around her neck and lined her wrist with dangly plastic bracelets. Roy was right again; she loved it. I took another picture and found myself smiling the whole time. I couldn’t stop; neither could Mark. I hadn’t seen him so excited in years. He handed her a small box and Emily shook it, wondering what was inside. She ripped into the paper and pulled out a small cross, covered with pink stones.