Careful. Watch the branches!”
Beth directed Andrew as he navigated their puny last-minute Christmas tree up the apartment stairwell. Déjà vu, he thought, careful not to crack the same branch he cracked the last time.
Beth fished the apartment key out of her coat pocket. “Can you believe they were still open?” she said. “Guess we aren’t the only ones who wait till the last minute.”
A branch poked Andrew in the cheek. “Ow! This tree doesn’t like me much. That is, if you can call this oversized branch a tree.”
“Hey!” Beth said. “I love Piney.”
Andrew grinned. “Piney? You named this twig Piney?”
“Yes. He’s family now.”
Andrew placed the pathetic little tree in the same spot it sat the last time he lived the moment, then went to the CD player and popped in Beth’s favorite Christmas album. The crooning voice of Andy Williams drifted through the apartment, and she smiled.
Together they trimmed the little tree, Beth singing along with the CD, lending her sweet voice to such classics as “White Christmas,” “The Christmas Song,” and “The First Noel.”
Meanwhile, Andrew feigned calm as he struggled to control the knot of throbbing fear in his stomach. It was past ten o’clock. Less than two hours to go. He wondered how it would all play out and determined that he wouldn’t go down without a battle. When the crucial moment came, he was going to make a stand. He was going to put up his dukes and fight back against Lady Fate or go down swinging.
He wondered if Lionel was watching him, if the angel could read his thoughts at that very moment. He glanced again at the clock: 10:39 p.m.
“There. Perfect,” Beth said. She stepped back from the tree and smiled at their handiwork. “We don’t want to overdecorate. Then it just gets gaudy.”
“Gaudy,” Andrew said. “Great word.”
Beth kissed him on the cheek. “Hold on. There’s one gift you get to open early.” Beth went to the couch, reached underneath, and pulled out a thin gift-wrapped package.
“So that’s where you hide them.”
Beth handed him the present. “One of the places,” she said. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Andrew tore off the paper to reveal a book. He read the title out loud. “She’s Having a Baby—and I’m Having a Breakdown. What Every Man Needs to Know—and Do—When the Woman He Loves Is Pregnant.” He smiled at Beth. “Perfect.”
“I thought so,” Beth said. “Oh, Andrew. I’m so excited! Just think, a year from tonight this apartment will be littered with toys!”
Andrew looked away. “Sounds wonderful,” he said.
Beth moved in front of him and gave him an impish smile. “So, Mr. Farmer. Do you want to know? Do want to know if we’re having a boy or a girl?”
Andrew brushed a stray hair back from her cheek and shook his head. “No.”
“Me neither,” Beth said. “One of life’s great remaining mysteries.” She kissed him and moved to the fireplace. “Picture it, Andrew. Next Christmas Eve there’ll be three stockings on the mantel.”
Andrew stepped over to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “There’s nothing I want more,” he said.
Beth turned to him. “You know what I want?” she said.
Andrew smiled as she led him by the hand back to the bedroom.
“Sooooo,” Beth said with a twinkle. “Any name ideas yet?” They were curled up beneath the sheets in bed, her head on his chest. Andrew had one nervous eye on the digital clock on the bedside table. It was now 11:41 p.m. He felt a surge of hope. All he had to do was hold on to his wife for another seventeen minutes, and it would all be over. He would have managed to outmaneuver Providence. Life would go on. They’d have a future together, a family. And all this would seem like a bad dream.
“Andrew? Hello?” Beth gave him a playful pinch to see if he was awake.
“Oh, well, I don’t know. Whatever name you want,” Andrew said.
“No!” Beth said. “We have to decide together. I want to do everything together. We’re a team, right?”
“Right. Beth, is that clock accurate?”
Beth looked from the clock to her anxious husband. “Why the clock watching? Am I boring you?”
“Of course not. I just want to make sure we don’t miss Christmas.”
“Miss Christmas? Andrew, what are you talking about?”
“Nothing, it’s just—never mind.”
Beth smiled at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way . . .”
“Uh-oh,” Andrew said. “Nothing good ever starts with ‘Don’t take this the wrong way.’ ”
Beth smacked him on the arm. “Oh, stop it! I just wanted to thank you for helping me realize something about myself.”
“Oh?” Andrew said. “What?”
“Well, when we first moved to New York, I was totally dependent on you. I thought that without you I wouldn’t be able to survive. I used to cry when you left the apartment in the morning. I missed River Falls so much.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. But now I know that coming to New York changed my life in a way I never could have imagined. A good way. I found myself here, my identity. I started my own business, made my own way. I grew up.”
Andrew stroked her hair. “I know,” he said. “And I’m so proud of you.”
Beth snuggled close and breathed a contented sigh. “I love you, Andrew.”
“I love you too.” He softly caressed her hair and watched the clock switch to 11:46.
Twelve minutes to go. He thought about Lionel. Maybe he’d given up. Maybe he’d decided that Andrew had done enough, been through enough. Maybe he was needed elsewhere, assigned to some other poor sap at the other end of the universe. Andrew looked down at his wife. Her eyes were closed, her breathing restful. Asleep. He allowed himself a smile. It was all over but the touchdown dance. Everything was going to be all right.
She rolled over, popped open one eye. “I’m starving,” she said. She started to roll out of bed, but Andrew jumped up.
“No!” he said. “Stay in bed. I’ll get you something.”
Beth frowned at him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes! I just—you stay here. Rest. I’ll go find something.”
“It’s okay, honey.” Before Andrew could protest, Beth was up and reaching for her robe. “I’d rather look for myself.”
“Beth, please. I can make a list of what we have and read it to you.”
Beth laughed. “Honey, the baby’s still a long way off. I don’t need to take it that easy, not just yet.” She threw on her robe. “Besides, you don’t know where anything is. Relax. I’ll be right back.”
Andrew grabbed his jeans from the floor. “I’ll go with you.”
Beth held up a hand. “Andrew, chill. I’m just going to the refrigerator.” She left the room and Andrew sat back down on the edge of the bed, tried taking a few calming breaths and again looked at the bedside clock: 11:48. It’s okay, he told himself. We’re almost there. Just ten more minutes.
Beth called from the kitchen, “Hey, how about some ice cream?”
Andrew called back, “No, thank you.” As nervous as he was, he knew he couldn’t hold down so much as a cracker. “Just come back in here.”
“Yeah, it’s too cold for ice cream,” Beth said. “How about a bagel?”
“No. I’m fine. Beth, please come back to bed.”
He could hear Beth continue her rummaging.
“Or we have this weirdly shaped fruitcake from Aunt Vera in Boca Raton,” she said. “Eww. Maybe not. I think it might be alive.”
“I’m not hungry, Beth. I’d really like it if you just came back to—”
The phone rang.
“I’ll get it!” Andrew shouted loudly enough to be heard in the next building. He jumped up from the bed and started yanking back blankets looking for the phone. It rang again. “Where is that stupid phone?” he said.
“Hello?” He heard Beth pick up in the kitchen and froze. He listened intently, one eye on the clock: 11:49. He could tell from Beth’s tone that she knew the caller.
“Of course,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. I’m on the case.” Andrew heard the sound of the phone being plopped back on the counter.
A moment later Beth breezed back into the bedroom and made a beeline for the walk-in closet. “Minor crisis,” she said. She hurriedly slipped on a pair of jeans and a pullover sweater. “That was Mrs. Applebee. Lulu got out again.”
“I’ll go.” Andrew started frantically yanking on his pants.
“Honey, it’s fine,” Beth said. “She never gets far. I’ll just be a minute.”
“No, you can’t—” Andrew’s pants bunched up; he lost his balance and fell to the floor. Beth laughed; he was sure he looked ridiculous as he struggled to his feet. “Let her look!” he said. “It’s her dog. She should be more careful.”
Beth chuckled. “Be more careful? Andrew, she’s over ninety years old.”
“The fresh air will be good for her circulation,” Andrew said. He was finally able to stand up and get his pants on, then began a frantic search for his shirt, lost somewhere in the blankets.
Beth laughed as she zipped up her jeans and slipped into a pair of tennis shoes. “Andrew, go back to bed. I’ll just be a minute.”
“Nope. I’m going with you.”
Andrew finally found his T-shirt. As Beth headed out of the room, he stumbled after her, hopping on one foot as he tried to walk and put on shoes at the same time.
By the time he was able to actually accomplish this, Beth was at the front door putting on her woolen jacket and scarf.
“I’ll do it,” Andrew said.
“Andrew, you know Lulu hates you,” Beth said. “All dogs do.”
“What? No, he doesn’t!”
“He’s a she,” Beth said. “She won’t come to you. You’ll spook her.”
“Then I’ll just come along for support. I feel like a walk.”
Beth shook her head. “What is with you tonight? Too much eggnog?” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Be right back.”
Andrew caught a quick glimpse of the grandfather clock behind her: 11:52. Beth buttoned up her coat. “No, Beth. Please don’t go. It’s not your problem.”
“Baby, the poor woman’s worried,” Beth said. She slipped on her gloves. “And it’s Christmas Eve.”
“Exactly,” Andrew said. “The nerve, asking you to go out this late on Christmas Eve. It’s almost 11:58.”
Beth gave him a curious smile. “Huh?”
“I mean, midnight. It’s almost midnight.”
Beth stepped up to him and took his face in her gloved hands. “It seems the baby news has made you a little loopy. You act as if you’re never going to see me again.”
Andrew looked away. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “Beth, please don’t . . .”
Andrew stopped. Over Beth’s shoulder he saw Lionel, standing on the other side of the door, his stern eyes locked on him.
“You can’t change this, Andrew. This is her destiny.” The angel’s words were firm and strong. He meant business.
“No!” Andrew shouted.
Beth shook her head. “You are being so weird.” She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Weird, but adorable.”
“It’s her time, Andrew,” Lionel said.
“It’s not fair,” Andrew said. He was trembling, his knees quaking, his heart beating as if it might burst.
Beth winked at him. “Life’s not fair,” she said. “Keep my spot warm.”
Andrew felt her move away from him, and every fiber of his being screamed, Grab her! Hold on for dear life! Do something, anything, to keep her from walking out that door.
But he was paralyzed. He simply couldn’t will himself to move. His eyes locked on Lionel’s.
“No,” he whispered.
Then she was gone, out the door into the freezing Christmas Eve night to keep her date with destiny. The dreadful sound of the door closing snapped Andrew out of his trance.
He lunged for the door, grabbed the knob, and pulled. It wouldn’t open. He pointed at Lionel. “Open it! If you’re truly from God, open it! I order you to open this door!”
“I don’t work for you, Andrew.”
“Please! I beg you—”
“You know the rules, Andrew. You got your three days, and now we get Beth. It’d be so much easier on you if you’d just accept that.”
“I’ll never accept it! Never!”
“Give it up, Farmer. It’s over.”
This calm pronouncement of finality sent a shot of grief through Andrew that overwhelmed him. He began to sob uncontrollably. His knees abandoned him, and he slumped to the floor. Anguished tears rolled out of him. He buried his face in his hands and cried like a lost little boy.
“Please. Please, Lionel. I’ll give anything.”
“Anything? ” Lionel said.
Andrew slowly looked up into Lionel’s eyes. Did he detect a flicker of hope in the angel’s tone? Andrew rose to his feet and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Yes,” he said. “Anything.”
And suddenly the truth hit Andrew Farmer like a runaway train. The gift. The one gift his wife really needed for Christmas. Not a music box or a turn on the ice. A chance. A chance only he could offer her.
At last, Andrew knew what he had to do. He knew what he must give.
As the realization washed over him, Andrew nodded, and a small smile creased Lionel’s wise and ageless face. The grandfather clock by the door read 11:55.
Their eyes met. Human and angel. The door lock turned, the door swung open, and Andrew Farmer ran out after his wife.