The Christmas Promise(23)

“I can’t take your car, Gloria,” Erin said. “You need it. I’ll take the bus to work.”

“These aren’t keys to my car,” I said. “They’re keys to your car. The Silver Fox.” I pushed open the drapes at the kitchen window.

“But you need it for one of your families,” she said.

“You’re one of my families now,” I said. “When you can get a car of your own you’ll give it back to me and I’ll pass it on.”

“Does it have seat belts?” Miriam asked, peering out the window.

“Of course it has seat belts!”

Erin stammered for something to say. “I can’t…”

“Jack said she was good as new,” I said. “And she is. I took her for a spin myself.” I pointed to her chair. “Sit down and eat before it gets cold.” We sat and ate together, three women who had been plopped into each other’s lives in the strangest of circumstances, and though there were several gaps and silences, the conversation was civil. Very civil, I thought. Maybe things were finally on an upward swing.





Chaz was in the security office monitoring the video screens when he noticed shoppers scrambling for the front doors. He ran up the stairs and saw the lawyer from next door on the other side of the street crouched down on the ground beside a car that had smashed into a light pole. Ray was also out there; he had run out when he heard a bang that rattled the store windows. Chaz saw the driver of the car standing and talking, so he didn’t think the accident was more than a fender bender. “He hasn’t moved,” a woman said, watching the scene.

Chaz caught a glimpse of Mike on the ground and felt himself shrinking backward. Two hours before he had avoided Mike. He felt his hand shaking and grabbed on to it with his other hand. Paramedics jumped out of an ambulance and seemed to take forever getting Mike onto a stretcher. “He still isn’t moving,” the woman said again. Chaz walked to the back of the store and ran out the service entrance for home.





The phone rang thirty minutes later and Chaz let it ring. A few minutes later it rang again and he picked it up. “What happened?” Ray said.

“I got sick,” Chaz said, lying.

“Did you see what happened out front?”

“Some of it.” He sat down. “Is that guy okay?”

“I don’t know,” Ray said. “He was pretty banged up.” Chaz felt his hand shaking again and walked to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer. “Do you think you’ll come back in?”

“I can’t,” Chaz said. “I’m really sick.”

“All right. We’ll get it covered.”

“Thanks,” Chaz said. He was about to hang up when he thought of Donovan. What would happen to him if Ray or Fred covered his shift? “Ray,” he said, shouting into the phone. “I’ll come in later.”

“You sure?”

“I’ll be there by nine,” Chaz said. He warmed up some macaroni and cheese and drank two beers while sitting at the card table. The sun was setting but he didn’t turn on the lights; he was used to the dark. He called information, got the number for the hospital, and dialed it before he forgot it. No one would give him any information. Why would they? He didn’t even know Mike’s last name.

“Are you a family member?” the woman asked him. He tried to explain that Mike didn’t have any family and that he talked to Mike all the time, but none of that mattered.

He lay down on the futon but his mind played the scene over and over again. As soon as he’d feel himself drifting he’d see Mike’s body and jump awake. What if Mike died? What if he died and his parents never knew about it? How would they live the rest of their lives without knowing what had happened to him? The obnoxious Christmas lights from across the street streamed into his room and he covered his head.

When the phone rang at eight he grabbed for it. It was Kelly at Wilson’s. “The package came,” she said. A long pause followed. “I see you’re not working tonight. Would you like me to bring it to you when I get off?” Chaz felt every nerve inside his body and he sat on the edge of the futon, rubbing his head. “Chaz? Do you still want me to bring it to you?”

He couldn’t let her come. He just couldn’t do it this time. “No.”

She fumbled for something to say. “Well, what do you want me to—”

“I don’t care,” he said.

She was quiet on the other end; then the line went dead.





Carla crept to the door and opened it, keeping an eye on Thomas as she pulled it closed. “Where are you going?” Thomas said.