“Even worse than Thanksgiving, think about Christmas! How on earth will she make it through Christmas?”
Maddie had just reached for the knob on the bathroom door when she heard the ladies enter the teachers’ lounge, but she drew her hand back and clutched it to her chest when she realized they were discussing her.
“I have no idea. I have a hard-enough time with my family all being back East. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose your husband and your only child at the same time and then face your first holidays without them.”
“And the poor woman had already lost her father to a heart attack a few months before the car accident,” said Paula, the eighth-grade math teacher. “How much tragedy can one person take?”
“I couldn’t believe she came back to school this year,” said Joyce, the seventh-grade history teacher. “I don’t think I could have.”
“Maybe it’s easier, you know? Focusing on work and staying busy.”
“Yeah, maybe. Lord knows being a guidance counselor keeps her busy, but you know while she’s listening to everyone else’s issues and problems all day, she has to be thinking that no one here—student or staff—has it as hard as she does.”
Maddie held her breath as Paula’s voice came closer to the bathroom door. She wished there was another exit so she could escape without them knowing she had overheard them. The last thing she wanted was an awkward confrontation with embarrassed apologies.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the refrigerator door open and close, and then the microwave beeped and whirred into action as the ladies moved on to a discussion of Christmas shopping still to be done.
Maddie leaned her hip against the sink and crossed her arms, determined to remain hidden until they’d gone. She didn’t begrudge their curiosity about her tragic circumstances; it was human nature to be fascinated with the pain of others. Maddie understood it was part concern and part fear. After all, she was the living embodiment of a life turned horribly wrong in the blink of an eye, and it must be hard for those around her not to worry the same level of unimaginable horror could befall them.
With a quiet sigh, she listened as the two women bantered about the effects of holiday bingeing on their waistlines while they prepared their lunches, and she let her own thoughts of the holidays come to the forefront of her mind.
The thought of the Christmas season had filled her with dread since the moment it had first crossed her thoughts after the accident.
Contemplating any semblance of celebration in an empty house haunted by the echoes of laughter and love had seemed abhorrent to her.
Maddie’s mother, Claire, had suggested they take a trip abroad to escape, but Christmas is a global phenomenon, and a change of scenery would do nothing to fill the void left by death.
At the thought of her headstrong and resilient mother, Maddie silently thanked the heavens yet again for giving her such a solid rock to lean on. She couldn’t have survived the last eight months without Claire.
Claire had always taught Maddie to focus on the needs of others to keep from being too absorbed with yourself, and although Maddie had seen her mother live that philosophy her entire life, it had never been more evident than when Claire had cast aside her own grief and loss to help Maddie survive in the difficult months following the accident.
Following Claire’s example had inspired Maddie to return to work, where she could put the needs of her students ahead of her own and allow her work to consume her.
The road was long and hard, and there were many times when Maddie had been certain it would be easier if she could give up and join her beloved husband and daughter in the ground. But day by day, minute by minute, she’d continued moving forward.
Maddie knew she had to get on with her life, but she was determined to do something with it that would make Simon and Corrine proud. Something that would in any way justify her being alive with them both dead.
It wasn’t enough to merely survive and force herself to get out of bed every day. She needed a reason to live, a purpose. Her students gave her that.
She glanced in the restroom’s lone mirror and tilted her head to one side, surveying her reflection.
The color was slowly returning to her cheeks, though they were still sunken from the weight she’d lost. The dark circles under her eyes had diminished slightly since she’d decided what to do about Christmas and finally found some measure of peace.
The decision hadn’t been easy to make, but Maddie was certain it was the right one, and she reassured herself with a slight nod. No one at school knew about her plans yet, a deliberate choice to delay the inevitable questions and judgements.
But in the long run, what did it matter what they thought?
They had their own lives and their own families to concern them.
Why should her house be empty and hauntingly silent for Christmas when she could fill it with love and laughter again?
She wasn’t the only one hurting and in need of a family to call her own.
It had started with a student named Stevie. More than any other, this young girl had pulled at Maddie’s heartstrings. Maddie had sensed something wasn’t right at home, but it took a while to earn Stevie’s trust enough for the girl to confide the truth—her mother had abandoned her, and she’d been living alone.
Maddie couldn’t conceive how any mother could leave her child that way, especially when Maddie would have given anything to hold Corinne once again.
She acted quickly to get Stevie help, but the system hadn’t proven much of a rescue. Stevie had been bounced around a number of group homes, and Maddie felt helpless as the light faded from the young girl’s eyes and her bright, talkative personality became more sullen and withdrawn.
Stevie’s fate began to consume Maddie’s thoughts, and the more she deliberated, the more certain she was that she had to do something. Stevie was a daughter in need of mothering, and Maddie was a mother whose empty arms ached. In addition to that painful connection, the two of them were genuinely fond of each other, and they’d formed a strong bond, the likes of which Maddie had never had with a student.
Of course, when the idea of adopting Stevie had first come to her, Maddie had dismissed it as disloyal to Corinne’s memory.
“Nonsense!” Claire had exclaimed when Maddie finally confided her thoughts one evening over dinner. “You living a life alone and devoid of love won’t bring our sweet girl back, and I know that’s not what Corinne or Simon would want for you.”
Maddie had held her breath as she blinked back tears.
“So, you think it’s a good idea, then? You think I should adopt Stevie?”
Claire had sat back in her chair and folded her napkin to lay it on the table.
“I suppose there are some who will say it’s too soon. They’ll say you may be making impulsive decisions based in grief, and that you may not be in your right mind to make choices with such long-lasting effects on both you and this young girl.”
Claire paused, and Maddie leaned forward, anxious to hear her mother’s opinion.
“But what do you say, Mom?”
“I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t seriously consider this if you hadn’t thought it through, and you wouldn’t be telling me if you hadn’t already come to the conclusion that it’s a good idea.”
It wasn’t enough. Maddie needed to know she would have Claire’s support. She couldn’t pursue such a large undertaking without it.
“But you agree that it’s a good idea, right?”
Claire’s gaze was steady as she looked at her daughter and took the time to choose her words with care.
“Love is rarely a bad idea, Madeline. But let’s not sugarcoat or minimize the weight of this decision. You’re still a young woman, you know. At thirty-four, you have many years ahead of you, God willing, and I pray you’ve already been dealt all the tragedy you’ll face. I don’t need to tell you what a big commitment this is, what a big step it will be for both of you. You are promising this girl you will be there for her from this point forth, come what may. You are taking on the responsibility, emotionally and financially, for someone else’s child.”
“I know,” Maddie said. “I understand. But I have the means to support her financially. I have the training and the background to help her emotionally. And I realize people will think I’m doing this to somehow replace—” Her voice fell away, and she couldn’t bring herself to say her daughter’s name attached to such a thought.
Claire’s eyes filled with tears as she reached across the table to take Maddie’s hand.
“No one will ever replace Corinne. No one ever could. Nor will anyone ever fill her space in your heart. But the heart has many chambers, and its capacity for love knows no bounds.”
Memories of Corinne flashed through Maddie’s mind, and she closed her eyes against the pain they brought. Nothing would bring her daughter back. She couldn’t be the mother she’d wanted to be for Corinne. That had been ripped away in one single devastating moment. But she could be a mother again. She could make someone else’s life better.
She opened her eyes and gave Claire’s hand a squeeze.
“I want to give Stevie a home. I want to give her love and stability, like you’ve given me. I want to encourage her and support her and help her achieve her dreams. I want her to wake up every day knowing someone believes in her and is there for her.”
“You want to be a mother again.”
The tears streamed down Maddie’s cheeks as she nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Then bring her home, and we’ll love her like she was our own.”
Maddie knew she’d need to get the ball rolling quickly if she hoped to bring Stevie home before Christmas. She didn’t know what might be involved in the approval process, but luckily, she had contacts within the system who could answer her questions and help her navigate the mounds of paperwork and red tape.
She learned that despite the fact that Stevie’s mother had vanished, the parental rights had not been legally terminated, so Maddie couldn’t move to adopt Stevie outright. Instead, she’d have to foster toward adoption, knowing that could only take place if something happened to terminate the mother’s rights.
The adoption agency was very upfront with Maddie in conveying that the ultimate goal was for Stevie to be reunited with a healthier version of her mother if she turned back up. Maddie found it hard to hope for that outcome. She couldn’t imagine that a parent who had willingly abandoned her child and left her to fend on her own would return a changed woman, but she’d take Stevie however she could get her and hope for the best for them both.
“I don’t suppose you’d have room for two?” asked Natalie, the agency worker assigned to Maddie, as they talked one day.
“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Maddie answered, but as Natalie began to describe Alissa, a ten-year-old who had lost both parents in a car accident, Maddie quickly reconsidered.
The girl was the same age Corinne had been when she died, and Alissa’s parents had both worked at the university with Maddie’s late husband, Simon. She and Alissa had both been robbed of their family without warning and thrust into a new life completely foreign to the one they’d known before.
How could she say no? She had plenty of room in the big old house, and as someone who’d always wanted a sister when she was growing up, Maddie thought perhaps Alissa and Stevie would be good for each other.
Because Alissa had no known family with ties to her, Maddie would be able to adopt her after a period of fostering.
Eager to make the transition as smooth as possible for the girls, she arranged for them both to arrive on the day after school let out for the Christmas break. That would give Maddie two weeks with them, time to adjust and bond before they all went back to the daily routine of school and work.
For the first time since the accident, hope blossomed in Maddie’s heart. She smiled more readily, and she even laughed a few times without feeling guilty. She’d gone from dreading the upcoming holidays to readying the house for the girls’ arrival.
Her newfound joy even gave her the courage to face a task she’d known was necessary but hadn’t yet been able to face—going into Corinne’s room to pack her things.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Claire asked as they stood outside the bedroom door. “We could easily convert that room by Simon’s study into a nice bedroom for Alissa, and you could have Stevie downstairs in the room off the kitchen like you’d planned.”
Maddie shook her head as her hand wavered above the knob. “No. I don’t want Alissa up here alone. I want her and Stevie on the same floor together, so they have each other. I have to do this eventually, and I want it done before the girls get here. It’s not healthy to keep everything preserved in here like it’s some sort of tomb or mausoleum in the house.”
She threw the door open and took in a deep breath against the assault of emotions that hit her every time she entered her daughter’s room.
“I know it’s the right decision, but God, it hurts,” she whispered. “It’s like saying goodbye all over again and facing the fact that my baby girl isn’t coming home. It makes it seem even more final.”
Claire swallowed against the lump in her throat as she nodded. “We have to remember these are only physical reminders. Corinne lives in our hearts and in our memories, not in these material things.”
At first, the two women worked in silence as they folded Corinne’s clothes and stacked them into boxes. The memories were a constant barrage, and a random shirt or jacket could easily bring forth quiet sobs, but as they moved through the books, toys, and mementos from Corinne’s short life, they found moments of laughter as well, and a bittersweet release in letting go.
“This house will be filled with love,” Claire said when they’d finished the project that had seemed insurmountable before it began. “This room will provide a sanctuary to a young soul who desperately needs it, and I like to think that would make our Corinne very happy.”
Maddie had expected to feel empowered by finishing Corinne’s room, but as she considered decorating the house for Christmas, she discovered that it was much too difficult to think about using the items she and Simon had gathered and shared over the course of their marriage and Corinne’s childhood. Just the thought of going into the attic to pull it all down was daunting, and the idea of seeing those reminders every day of the holiday season was too much to bear.
“I’ve decided to get new decorations for the house,” Maddie announced to Claire over dinner one night. “Everything I have now is tied to Simon and Corinne. I will always have my memories of past Christmases, and I know Alissa and Stevie will have their own memories, too. But if the three of us are going to make a fresh start, there needs to be a clean slate. New decorations. New traditions. New memories.”
Claire didn’t answer.
“Mom, are you listening to me?”
“Yes, dear,” Claire replied without so much as even a glance in Maddie’s direction.
“Okay, so I guess you’d be totally okay with my renting live reindeer to prance around my living room on Christmas morning. I mean, we can shovel the poop into the fireplace for fuel, right?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Mom!” Maddie shrieked. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. I just told you I’m going to shovel reindeer poop in my living room, and you were fine with it. What’s up with you? You’ve been preoccupied since I got here, giving me one-word answers and an occasional nod here and there. What’s going on?”
Claire pressed her lips together in a frown. “I don’t think I should mention it.”
“Mention what? What’s wrong?”
Maddie leaned forward to rest her hand on her mother’s arm, and Claire put her hand over Maddie’s and squeezed.
“Nothing’s wrong. Oh, Madeline. Do you remember Maeve, the sweet lady who was the town librarian for years upon years? I had lunch with Marjorie today. She’s working at the high school now as the office secretary. Well, she told me sad news about Maeve’s granddaughter, Josephine. Marjorie says she’s a real sweet girl. A good student and a hard worker. But she’s had the roughest luck. As you know, both of her parents died when she was younger, so Maeve was raising her. I assumed when Maeve passed away that someone else in the family had taken the girl in. But it turns out there was no one in the family to claim her. She was placed in foster care, and Marjorie says Josephine’s in a terrible situation. She’s certain they’re using the poor girl as free labor, and she suspects they might be abusive.”
“That’s horrible.”
Maddie’s heart hurt just thinking about it. She knew Maeve would have been devastated for her granddaughter to be all alone, so young, and with no family to turn to. How terrified Josephine must have been when her grandmother died!
It wasn’t like Maddie hadn’t always known these struggles existed, but it seemed that since she’d decided to intervene on Stevie’s behalf, she’d been confronted with the reality of other young girls on their own who were equally deserving of love and stability and a place to truly call home.
Claire sighed. “I know you’ve got your hands full with the two already coming, but I wish we could do something to help Maeve’s granddaughter. Marjorie said she’s so bright, and she’d have a wonderful future ahead of her if she could just catch a break.”
Maddie set down her fork as her eyes widened. “Are you saying you want me to adopt a third?”
“Well, you do have that room downstairs. You’d originally thought to put Stevie in there to be close to you. What if you did that and gave Josephine the room next to Simon’s study?”
“I think my plate is going to be rather full with suddenly having two kids who might have God only knows what kind of issues from their circumstances. I don’t know that I could do another.”
“I understand what you’re saying, and I knew it was a long shot. That’s why I hesitated to mention it. It’s just that with her being fifteen, her chances of getting adopted aren’t that great. People don’t often want the older teens. I swear I’d take her myself if I thought the state would approve me, but my retirement community is no place for a teenager, and I’m old and set in my ways. Oh, well. I guess we can’t save them all.”
Claire changed the subject and they didn’t touch on it again that night, but Josephine never strayed far from Maddie’s thoughts over the next few days. She remembered often seeing the young girl at the library before Maeve died. Maddie wasn’t sure how old Josephine had been when her parents died but knew she had been quite young. She wondered how long the girl had been in foster care. Had Maeve been gone already last Christmas? Or was this Josephine’s first Christmas with no family?
If Josephine was in a bad foster situation—bad enough that the school secretary was aware of it—then surely the social workers assigned to her could step in and place her somewhere better.
But what if there was no place better available?
Claire was right—Maddie couldn’t save every child trapped in the system, and she kept telling herself she was doing her part by taking in two children already. But no matter what logic she tried to apply, her mind kept returning to Josephine’s plight, and by the end of the week, she knew she had to at least try and improve Josephine’s situation.
She called Natalie to inquire about the girl, and Natalie called back the next day saying there was little that could be done since Josephine had already been placed with a family.
“But what if I was to adopt her?” Maddie asked.
“In addition to Stevie and Alissa? You sure you want to do that?”
“Just look into it for me. Let me know if it’s possible. See if I can get approved for all three girls.”
Natalie’s reply a few days later was that yes, Maddie could move forward with adopting Josephine if she chose to, but it would take a miracle to get things rolling in time for Christmas. Josephine likely wouldn’t be able to join them until after the first of the new year.
Though disappointed, Maddie resigned herself to the fact, but it didn’t stop her from shopping for the girl while she was out and about picking up things for the other two.
She and Claire had decided they wouldn’t buy too many clothes and personal items for the girls, preferring to take them and let them pick out things according to their own tastes once they’d arrived.
Knowing they’d each probably want to choose their own bedroom decor, she stuck to basic neutrals when outfitting the three rooms, hoping to create a warm and welcoming environment for them to come into. It would be easy enough to let them personalize their own space once they got settled.
By the time the last week of school rolled around before the Christmas break, the house was decked out with wreaths, ribbons, and lights inside and out. She’d picked one special gift for Stevie and Alissa to receive when they arrived, and a few other items were wrapped and waiting under the tree.
The week seemed to be dragging on forever, and Maddie was counting down the hours until she’d be able to finally have the girls under her roof where they could start their new lives together.
It was early morning Thursday when she got a call that Josephine had been injured in the home where she was being fostered. Though the injury was minor and would allow a full recovery, the circumstances surrounding it had triggered an investigation that found the foster parents to be unfit. All the fostered children were to be removed from the home, and Josephine needed a placement right away.
Maddie gladly accepted, and she rushed around after school to get last-minute items for Josephine’s bedroom and gifts to put under the tree in preparation for her arrival the next day.
As she sat at the kitchen table that night sipping a cup of bedtime tea, Maddie’s mind spun with the reality that she would soon have three girls in her care, all of whom would need particular attention and loads of love to heal what had transpired in their pasts.
She stood and walked through her house, room by room, allowing memories of Simon and Corinne to wash over her. She’d give anything to have them back, to turn back time and prevent the horrific accident that had taken them from her.
If only she hadn’t locked her keys in the car after staying late at school that night. If only the custodian or someone on the security force had been there to help her. She wouldn’t have needed to call Simon to come and get her. He and Corrine wouldn’t have been on the road. They’d still be here with her, excited for Christmas morning.
Maddie stopped in front of the tree, the myriad of colored lights blurring through her tears.
She knew that it did no good to go over the what ifs again. She’d been through them countless times since that night.
What had been done could not be undone. What had been lost could not be given back.
Her only option was to move forward. To live a life that was full of love. To try and be worthy of Simon and Corinne’s memories in all she said and did.
The shrill ringing of the phone startled her, and she sloshed tea on her hand.
She was surprised to hear Natalie’s voice on the other end. It was well past office hours, though she’d learned that social workers rarely stick to a set schedule.
“I’m so sorry to call so late, Maddie, but time is of the essence, and you were the first person I thought of.”
“What’s wrong?” Maddie asked, wary of what might have happened to cause Natalie such distress. “Is it the girls? Has something happened to one of the girls?”
“No. They’re fine. Josephine will be coming to you tomorrow, and Alissa and Stevie will arrive on Saturday. I just got a call from a foster family to inform me that they are going out of town for the holidays and will not be taking their foster child.”
“How can they do that? Are they allowed to do that?”
“They’re allowed to take a trip without her, but they’re supposed to give me enough notice to find a suitable temporary placement for the poor girl. Now, I’ve got to go get her a couple of days before Christmas and take her to a new place with people she’s never met for her to spend the holiday. She’s only eight years old, and—”
“Say no more,” Maddie said, her heart offering before her mind even had time to consider. “We’ve got plenty of room. Bring her here.”
“Are you sure? I know you’ve got three coming, but I thought since they’re all starting out together in a new place, it may be less awkward for this little one, Hailey. It would be a temporary placement, but if you could—”
“Natalie, you know as well as I do that once she gets here, she won’t need to leave. Don’t worry about that. She has a long-term placement right here. Now, I’ve already taken the day off tomorrow to welcome Josephine and do a few last-minute preparations for her and the other girls. If you can give me Hailey’s sizes and her interests, I’ll run out tomorrow and get a few things to put under the tree for her. She’ll need to share a room with Alissa since they’re closest in age, so hopefully that will work out well.”
After writing down the details Natalie could give her on Hailey, Maddie hung up the phone and sat back down at the table to sip her tea.
Four girls. Four opportunities to show love.
She was going from a bereaved widow who’d lost her only child to mothering four daughters.
She smiled at the thought of what Simon might say, and she pictured Corinne’s sweet grin.
Perhaps there were a couple of traditions she’d carry over into her new life—like Simon’s insistence on having blueberry waffles on Christmas morning and Corinne’s letters to Santa.
The memories filled her with joy, and the idea of what the future would bring filled her with hope. She went to bed with a heart at peace, ready to welcome her new family but steadfast in the knowledge that nothing could replace or diminish the family she’d had.