51

The fifth day of December was marked on all calendars in Fort Colson as Sinterklaas Day. School kids had the day off, most businesses stayed closed, and the sheriff’s department shut down the main street from first thing in the morning until near midnight.

It was a day of hanging wreaths and tinsel and strings of electric lights. Banners were stretched across the road between telephone poles with greetings of “Merry Christmas” and “Fijne feestdagen! Fort Colson Wishes You Joy for the Holidays.”

In the front yard of the church was set up wooden cutouts of the Nativity. Mary in her blue and pristine white, Joseph in his red and dull brown. The shepherds to one side with black-nosed sheep and the Wise Men to the other with their gilded gifts in hand.

At the center of it all sat a flat manger, hand-painted straw curled soft over the edges. And resting there, swaddled in pure and clean cloths, was a blond-headed baby Jesus, eyes already a startling shade of blue and looking up to the heavens.

Every few years the Nativity got a new paint job to keep it looking fresh. That year the artist had given Jesus rosy cheeks and perfectly shaped pink lips, the corners pulled up in a smile.

Bernie had kept the diner open late to serve hot drinks and doughnuts to whoever wandered in. While he was constitutionally opposed to decorating, he had no problem making a little money from a day like that.

Customers had come in steadily throughout the day, bundled in hats and scarves and mittens, as the weather had proven to be colder than expected. Cups of coffee and tea and hot chocolate steamed up at them, and they sipped as they sat at a booth or table, keeping warm inside.

I couldn’t hear the jangling of the bell on the door for the din that filled the diner. But I wouldn’t have been able to miss when the door opened, letting Mr. and Mrs. Vanderlaan in, followed by Walt holding hands with Caroline Mann.

“I’ll take care of them,” Bernie told me, reaching out for the coffeepot.

“No, I don’t mind,” I answered, stepping around him and making my way to the table they’d picked by the big window.

Walt had his arm draped over Caroline’s shoulders and he slumped beside her as if wishing he could hide from me. His parents sat across from them, stiff and not touching.

“Coffee?” I asked.

They all turned over the cups in front of them, watching me pour.

“Annie,” Mrs. Vanderlaan said, “I believe you know Caroline.”

“Yes,” I answered, looking up. “It’s been a while.”

“I’ve been away at college,” Caroline said. I’d forgotten the high pitch of her voice, how like a little girl’s it was. “I’m home for the weekend to see my Wally.”

“Isn’t that nice.” I rested the coffeepot on the end of the table. “Would anyone like doughnuts?”

“Oh, not me,” Caroline squeaked. “I wouldn’t dare.”

I glanced at Walt, who rolled his eyes. “You’re skinny enough.”

“Let her be, son,” Mr. Vanderlaan said. “Just two. The ladies won’t have any.”

Mrs. Vanderlaan stared ahead, not saying anything.

“Would you like one?” I asked her. “I have it on good authority that doughnuts are as healthy as an apple on Sinterklaas Day.”

“Well, then,” she said. “In that case, how can I resist?”

“Caroline?” Walt said. “Come on. Be a sport and eat a doughnut.”

“Oh, all right,” she said.

“Four doughnuts coming up,” I said.

It was only as I turned to walk away that I saw the glint of a diamond ring on Caroline’s left hand.

Walt brought the check to the cash register, sliding it across the countertop toward me. He didn’t lift his eyes to meet mine.

“So, you’re back with Caroline?” I asked, punching the numbers into the register. “When did that happen?”

“Yeah. I went out to see her at MSU.” He pulled a few bills from his wallet. “I guess she changed her mind about me.”

“I noticed that she’s wearing her engagement ring.”

“Listen, Annie,” he said, talking fast. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up about something happening between you and me.”

“You didn’t.” I took his money and made change. “I just want to know if you’re happy. With her. With yourself. With life. I want you to be okay.”

It was then that he looked up at me, wearing his old cocky smile. “I guess I’ll be all right. She makes me happy. She really does.”

Just a little after five o’clock, the sun set and the pinprick glow of rainbow-colored Christmas tree lights showed up against the dark of evening. Main Street was abuzz with people lining the sidewalks and waiting for the start of the parade.

Bernie had left me to lock up the diner, and as soon as I turned the key in the door, I tried to catch sight of Mom and Oma. They’d promised to save me a spot. But all I could see were stocking-capped heads and clusters of families that didn’t belong to me.

That was when I saw David making his way to me, lifting a hand in a wave to get my attention. “Over here,” he called.

“Hi,” I said when he got closer.

“Hi.”

“What do you think of all this?” I asked.

“I think it’s great.” He tilted his head back. “Now if only it would snow, it would be perfect.”

“Too bad we don’t get to order the weather, huh?”

“Indeed.” He took my hand. “Your mom and grandmother are over this way.”

I followed behind him, his hand holding mine.

Dear Annie,

There are days around here when there isn’t much to do but twiddle our thumbs. You might think I’d like days like that, but I don’t. I hate them. I’m always on edge and I can’t seem to relax because I never know when the shoe is going to drop.

I never know when the calm is going to erupt into chaos and I want to be ready for when it does.

What a fatalistic view of life, huh?

Anyway, back to all I’ve been thinking about.

I’ve been thinking about Mom and how strong she’s always been. Do you think she’ll crack if something were to happen to me? Do you think she’d be all right? I’m not saying that I’m the most important person to her, but I am her child. Her firstborn. What will happen to her if I don’t get to come back home?

And Joel. He’s just a kid. I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know how much he looks up to me. What’s going to happen to him? Who’s going to step in and be a big brother to him?

Don’t feel left out, pal. I’ve been thinking about you too. I don’t want to think about you having to go through losing me. I know that sounds like I’m stuck on myself, but hear me out. It kills me to think of you suffering or grieving over me. It makes me all kinds of antsy just thinking about how lonely you’d be.

I’m starting to pray that somehow I’m able to outlast all of you so you won’t have to live through losing me.

But, I’m telling you. I don’t think that’s going to happen. I really don’t. Not with how close I am every day to it all coming to an end. Every single day I have at least one second where I think I’m not making it home. And sometimes I’m so tired I think how it might not be so bad for it all to be over.

I sound like a loon, don’t I? I’m telling you, being over here, it isn’t too hard to lose your mind. It’s a strange thing, but I think I understand a little why Frank came back from Korea the way he did.

The things we see, Annie, they’re enough to make anybody go a little nutty. We weren’t made for this. I can’t believe that God created us for all this death and destruction. War wasn’t his idea. I’ll bet he hates it more than I do, even.

I hope I’m not scaring you. Gosh, I hope I’m not.

Write back, would you? I sure could use something to make me smile right now. If nothing good’s happening in The World, just make something up. For me. Can I count on you for that?

I miss you.

Mike

Dear Mike,

First off, you didn’t scare me too badly. But you did make me want to pray even more that you come back in one piece. Both in your body and in your soul. Although, if you do come back haunted like Frank was, we’ll work it out together, all right? You won’t need to run off like he did.

Please promise that you won’t do that. Okay?

Now, I present to you a much-needed distraction. (Imagine movie introduction music here.)

I’m sending you the promised family picture from Sinterklaas Day. Everybody’s there. Even Sinterklaas himself in his red suit and bushy white beard. Can you take a guess who drew the short straw and had to wear the costume this year?

That’s right. Bernie Jager, the old Scrooge. He grumbled about it for a week, but he played the part well. So well, in fact, that some have said he should dress up like old Saint Nicholas every year. Wouldn’t that be something?

By the way, you don’t have to worry about Walt coming around and bothering me, at least I don’t think so. His wedding to Caroline is back on. For now, that is. I’m happy for them. I really am.

And Mom’s happy that he isn’t calling a hundred times a day anymore. All without Joel having to throw a punch. We all win.

Despite what everybody around here seems to think, I never held a candle for him. If nothing else, being around him reminded me that I deserve someone who will like (or even love) me the way I am.

Maybe when you get back you can meet my friend David. The one I told you about. I think you’d like him. Golly, you might even want to go fishing with him. I haven’t told anyone but Jocelyn this, but if there’s a candle to be held, it’s for him.

Don’t you tease me about it, though. I’m an adult woman now, and blushing doesn’t become a lady.

Big brother, no matter what happens, I believe with all my heart that you’ll make it back home. In fact, I need you to.

Love you,
Annie