As the church bell tolled nine, a light snow fell on the packed River Falls Town Square. The whole town had come out for an age-old local tradition. Every December 22, for the past seventy years, local citizens had gathered for a candlelight ceremony.
At nine o’clock, as the church bell rang, River Falls residents would leave their homes and make their way to the town center, each carrying a lighted candle. The effect of hundreds of townsfolk walking quietly through the streets with their candles was surreally beautiful and deeply moving. The holiday custom began during the early dark days of World War II as a way to honor and remember those local soldiers fighting in far-off lands.
As Beth, Andrew, and the Foster family carried their candles from the house on Dogwood Lane to Town Square for the candlelight ceremony, Andrew stole a look at his wife. He couldn’t seem to get her kitchen confession out of his mind. Did she really believe he no longer loved her? And if she did believe that, how could he possibly convince her otherwise before she met her fate on Sunday night? You’re supposed to be this hotshot agent, he thought, and you can’t even sell your wife on the fact that you truly love her.
He was tempted to pull Beth aside and confess everything. But what good would that do? She’d think he’d lost his mind. She’d probably call the men in the white coats to come get him.
And what if she did believe him? What then? Would he want to know if he were about to die? It was certain to put a damper on their final days together.
No, it was better she didn’t know.
The short stroll to town seemed like forever as the swirl of anxious thoughts whipped around in Andrew’s head. Finally, they rounded a corner, and there was the square lit up by the glow of several hundred candles.
“Wow,” Beth said. “Breathtaking.”
The Victorian bandstand was decked out with red bows, poinsettias, and green garlands. A majestic twenty-foot Fraser fir towered over the crowd. The tree was thick with handmade ornaments, strands of popcorn, and tinsel, but the lights had not been lit. Beth looped her arm through Andrew’s. “Andrew, look! Isn’t it beautiful?”
“We started a tradition a few years back,” Mitch said. “Everyone in town hangs an ornament on the tree with their name on it. Helps us feel like one big family.”
“That’s lovely,” Beth said.
Andrew nodded toward the big tree. “Guess somebody forgot to pay the electric bill.”
Beth pulled him aside. “All this Christmas spirit too much for you?” she said.
“Are you kidding?” Andrew said. “I love this stuff.”
Beth gave Andrew her “yeah, right” look just as Katie pulled her away.
“Beth, come with me!”
Andrew hung back, watched Beth and the others merge into the crowd near the bandstand. He heaved a frustrated sigh. The last thing he wanted to do was share Beth with a few hundred strangers.
“Isn’t this wonderful!” Andrew turned to the sound of a woman’s voice. She was standing so close to him she was practically rubbing up against him. Andrew gave her a look in hopes she’d get the hint and respect his personal space, but she didn’t budge. He stepped away from her. She was short, less than five feet tall, and was bundled up snugly in coat, gloves, and a woolen hat pulled down over her ears.
“Yes,” Andrew said. He didn’t want to encourage her.
“I just love Christmas,” she said. “Don’t you, young man?”
“Sure,” Andrew said. He looked around to see if she was with anyone, but she appeared to be alone.
“So how’s it going?” the woman said.
“Fine,” Andrew said.
“Is it?” she said. “Is it fine, Andrew? Because it doesn’t appear to be going so well to me.”
Andrew stared at her. She gave him a coy little smile and then pointed to a gold decorative pin stuck to her hat. It was in the shape of a key, the same key that Lionel had given him the night Beth died.
Andrew looked around. “Who are you?”
The old lady smiled. “I think you know the answer to that question. Perhaps, since things aren’t going so well with Beth, I ought to remind you that you only have a little more than two days left to set things right. Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun?”
“Fun?” Andrew said. “You think this is fun?” He leaned in close. “I need an extension.”
The little lady cackled. “An extension? How precious you are! Now, I think you know that’s not going to happen.”
“If you’re an angel, then you should be able to shake your magic wand or sprinkle your mystical powder—or whatever it is you do—and make it happen. Because I need more time.”
“Oh, my dear. We don’t carry wands or magic powder. We are bound by the rules of the universe, just like everybody else. Three days is all you’ve been granted. And it seems you’ve already wasted one of them.”
Andrew put a hand on her arm. “Please,” he said. “I need more time.”
The woman patted his cheek affectionately. “You dear, dear boy. Christmas Eve, 11:58. Time will expire. It is your wife’s destiny. Fate is fate. It cannot be trifled with.”
Andrew looked away, spotted Beth in the crowd near the bandstand.
“Yeah, well, fate’s not fair,” he said.
“Have you given any thought to that gift?” the woman said.
Andrew brightened a little. “I’ve got something in mind. I’m going to surprise her.”
The lady clapped her gloved hands. “Well, that’s good news. Beth likes surprises.” She winked at him. “Well, surprises not named Kimberly, anyway.”
Andrew glared at her. “Don’t push your luck.”
Just then Mayor Ed Drummond stepped up onto the bandstand and took the microphone. Behind him, the drummer in a five-piece band beat out a roll. The crowd applauded and cheered as the mayor held up his hand, gave them a big toothy politician’s grin.
“Thank you, friends, and merry Christmas!” The crowd called back in kind. The mayor looked up at the towering tree, sitting there dark. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why our tree isn’t lit,” he said.
A man called out from the crowd, “Hey, Mayor! You forget to pay the electric bill?” Laughter rolled through the crowd, and the mayor joined in.
“That guy stole my line,” Andrew said. He turned to the old lady, but she was no longer beside him. She seemed to have vanished into thin air.
“Not quite, Harley,” Mayor Drummond said. “Seems we have some kind of defect in the wiring. So far, nobody’s been able to figure it out. But, lights or no lights, our band is cooking tonight, and they’re taking requests!”
“ ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas!’ ” Beth called out. Andrew smiled. He knew how much Beth loved that song.
The mayor searched for the voice, and he smiled as he recognized Beth. “Well, if it isn’t the founder of my favorite charity, Best Buddies. Let’s give Beth McCarthy a big welcome home!”
The crowd cheered. Mayor Drummond scanned the crowd. “Did Andy come with you?” Andrew weakly threw up a hand, but no one seemed to notice. He saw Beth look around to see if she could spot him, but their eyes never met.
“He’s around here somewhere, Mr. Mayor!” she said. Andrew watched her whisper something to Megan, then saw Megan give her a sympathetic pat on the back.
He wondered what Beth had said.
Beth leaned against a tree and listened as the band kicked into a slow, sleepy version of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” The crowd joined in, swaying with their candles. Megan leaned into Beth. “I could go for some hot chocolate. Want some?”
“Sure,” Beth said.
“Back in a jiffy,” Megan said. Beth watched her friend head off through the crowd, then did another quick scan for Andrew. He seemed to have vanished into the night. Probably checking his e-mail or returning a call.
And then, out of the blue, an off-key voice blared from the big speakers. Andrew Farmer was singing a solo:
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams;
I’ll be home for Christmas,
If only in my dreams . . .
Beth put her hand to her mouth. She could scarcely believe what she was seeing. There was her husband onstage singing into the microphone, belting out a song, looking right at her, preening and gesturing like some cheesy lounge singer. Andrew really leaned into it, put it all on the line like King Karaoke.
What in the world? She had never known Andrew Farmer to do something so silly, so romantic.
The crowd joined in to help him out on the final line: “If only in my dreams.”
As the song finished, Andrew stepped down from the stage, moved through the crowd to Beth, and took her in his arms. A movie moment. They kissed as the crowd repeated the last line and then broke into enthusiastic applause.
From the other side of the bandstand, an old woman watched the sweet scene and smiled. She casually flicked an index finger, as if flipping some invisible switch. The towering Christmas tree flickered to light. The crowd gasped and cheered.
Beth and Andrew didn’t even notice. They were lost in each other’s eyes and oblivious to everything else on earth. The old woman smiled and spoke to the sparkling, clear night sky.
“I love my job.”