The Christmas Promise(34)

Chaz didn’t respond; he couldn’t. When he was confident that Donovan was asleep he moved his hand and slid off the futon, onto the floor, and buried his head in his hands. Tears fell into his palms, and he rubbed his coat sleeve over his face. He’d once heard his mother tell a friend that the drought was always worst right before the rain. He’d been living in droughtlike conditions for years because his life had dried up ages ago; there wasn’t anything life-giving in him. He’d had so many plans and visions when he was a child, but they were gone now. When he’d dreamed as a boy, he never envisioned himself eking out a living and either losing or drinking away what money he made. He stopped planning and dreaming a long time ago because all he could see was the gaping wound of his life, which hit him square in the face day after day. Maybe that’s what the truth does, it beats the living hell out of us until we do something about it. For years he shoved the truth aside, choosing to deal with the pain any way that he could, but he couldn’t deal with it any longer.

Let it rain, he said into his hands. Please let it rain.





Nine



The black moment is the moment when the real message of transformation is going to come. At the darkest moment comes the light.

—Joseph Campbell



Carla knocked on Miss Glory’s door but no one was home. She waited in the driveway with Donovan, but after an hour she pulled away and drove to her apartment. Thomas’s car was still there, so she backed away before he could see her. “What are you doing?” Donovan asked.

“Going back to wait at Miss Glory’s,” she said. “You need to stay with her today.”

“Why? I liked staying with Spaz.”

She turned to him and her eyes blazed. “Don’t fight with me today.”





Miriam and I pressed our noses to the nursery window and smiled. Erin’s mother, Lois, arrived an hour after I called. She was there for the birth of her first grandson and held Erin’s hand throughout the delivery. Miriam and I bowed out of the room when Lois arrived and paced in the waiting room together, sipping bad coffee and watching horrible TV. When the doctor told us the news at eight o’clock that morning we cheered and hugged his neck as any grandmother would do, and fought to be the first to hold little Gabriel when we saw him with Erin. I won.





Donovan ran for the car when I pulled into the driveway. “Señorita Cuckoo!”

I wrapped my arms around him and looked at Carla. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

Carla eyed Miriam and looked at the ground. Miriam took the hint and reached for Donovan’s hand, leading him inside.

I stood with Carla in the driveway and searched her face. “Is he back?” Carla shook her head and wrapped the scarf tighter around her neck. “Are you lying?”

Her eyes were dark. “No.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said. Time after time I’d seen battered women lie about being abused, with black-and-blue marks clearly on their faces.

Carla watched Donovan through the window and ran a finger under her nose. “He’s not back, Miss Glory,” she said. “I’m sick.”

I turned Carla’s face so I could look at her. “What’s wrong? Do you need to go to the doctor?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s the flu. You know. It works itself out.” She folded her arms and shivered in the wind. “Miss Glory, could you please watch him for a couple of days till I feel better?”

I thought about it and Carla bit her lip, waiting. I felt uneasy, unsure of whether I believed her. “You’re sure Thomas isn’t there?”

She nodded. “I’m sure, Miss Glory. I haven’t seen him.”

“Will you go home and take care of yourself?” She nodded and I watched her slide behind the wheel and back out.





Carla didn’t show up for work two nights in a row. Chaz asked Larry if she called him or anybody else on the janitorial team. “Haven’t heard from her,” Larry said. “She’s probably snowed in like half the town.” Twenty inches of snow had fallen in two days, and Mr. Wilson debated whether he should even open the store. Several employees couldn’t make it in due to the weather, and Carla was probably just one of them. Chaz waited an hour and then went to the security office and dialed her number. There wasn’t an answer. He tried again an hour later but she still didn’t answer. A half hour later he let the phone ring for several minutes.

The store closed early due to snow, so Chaz finished his shift three hours earlier than usual. Larry drove him to his apartment. The streets were empty except for a plow that was trying to stay ahead of the snowfall, an impossible task by the looks of the snow that was piling on rooftops and cars. “Have a great Christmas,” Larry said.