12

Amie curled up at one end of the sofa, soaking in the sights and sounds. How different this family was from hers. Christmas actually meant something to the Warrens.

The girls squealed as they ogled the gifts beneath the colorfully lit fir tree. Flames danced in the fireplace. Jake’s deep, loud laugh seemed to bounce off the walls, followed by Tom’s softer chuckles. In the kitchen, dishes clapped together as Katie put them away now that she and Amie had washed and dried them.

Supper tonight had consisted of homemade vegetable soup and freshly baked bread. The girls barely touched their portions, being so excited about opening presents. Jake made them sit politely while the adults finished up and Amie was impressed by their good behavior.

When at last the meal was finished, everyone ambled into the living room and waited while Amie and Katie cleaned up. With the task accomplished, Amie joined the others and now everyone just waited for Katie putting away the special dishes.

Finally, she strolled into the living room, much to the girls’ delight. She instructed the girls to sit somewhere on the floor while she dispersed the gifts, making piles for her enthused daughters. Her laden arms deposited a couple on Amie’s lap.

Surprised, Amie smiled in delight. She honestly hadn’t expected even one. “For me?” Amie searched Katie’s face.

Katie grinned, as excited as the children.

Across the way, Jake dug right in and ripped open his gift with fervor. “A coffee mug!” He held it high, proudly showing it off. “Thank you, Amie. I’ll pray for you each time I drink my morning coffee from it.”

She was pleased he liked it. “You’re welcome—and I appreciate the prayers.” Especially after her display of temper earlier. Tom must think he went into business with a fruitcake, although it all made sense to her. Didn’t it? The truth pressed in on her again. She was jealous of Nancy. And she was scared silly of Big Al. Hadn’t Tom heard the subtle threat Al made? Real man…what a joke! Obviously, the man thought very highly of himself.

The tearing of gift wrap paper claimed Amie’s attention. She shooed away her troubling thoughts as Tom opened his present. Out of the box, he pulled out the thick, quality knit sweater, predominantly green in color with other shades interwoven throughout. Amie had selected it with his hazel eyes in mind.

“Thanks.” He sent her a glance filled with obvious gratitude from his place in the adjacent arm chair. “It’s just what I need, actually.”

“Good.” A sense of gratification filled her being. “I’m so glad you like it.”

“Open your presents, Amie!” Carol cried with unmistakable excitement.

“Yeah.” Little Lucy scooted toward her.

“That, um, top one’s from me.” Tom raised his voice slightly to be heard above the sudden hum of happiness, filling the room.

Amie stared down at the large, square, neatly wrapped box in her lap before carefully lifting the taped edges and the removing the colorful candy cane-decorated paper. She inhaled sharply when she spied the darkly-stained wooden box. Upon closer inspection, she saw the intricate carvings on the sides and on its top. On the bottom she found a windup mechanism.

“A music box.” Smiling, she opened the lid and admired the quilted patchwork piece embedded within its depths. “It’s beautiful.”

She wound it up, more for the girls’ benefit than her own. Within moments she recognized the tune: You Light Up My Life.

“Should we play guess that tune?” Jake snorted a laugh.

“No need.” Amie closed the box and the melody ceased. “I know what it is.” She had a hunch the tune was Tom’s message to her. But, truth to tell, he’d lit up her life.

Crossing the room, Tom hunkered beside her. “I found this when I was cleaning out the café, and I remembered when Hal discovered this music box. It was in old Mrs. Thornbjorg’s attic. The box was dried out, the bottom of it severely cracked. When Mrs. Thorbjorg died, her family stuck it in a heap of rubbish on the side of the road and that’s where Hal picked it up.” Tom fingered the etchings. “You told me when we first met that you wished you’d known your uncle better...well, he was a man who saw beauty in things that other folks had decided were trash. Like this little jewelry box.” He lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes taking on their sorrowful appearance. “Like me.”

Hot tears threatened as Amie looked back at the expertly sanded and varnished creation. “You’re a beautiful person, Tom. I mean that.”

“You remind me a lot of Hal,” he whispered.

The complement sent a surge of emotion trickling down Amie’s cheeks. Amie could only nod a “thank you.”

“Don’t cry.” Tom’s brows furrowed. “I didn’t mean to—”

“They’re happy tears, Tom,” Katie put in, much to Amie’s relief. “It’s a woman thing.”

Tom blew out a breath and looked at Jake.

“Get used to it, brother. You’ve partnered with a woman.” He winked at Amie as if to assure her of his jest.

“Now, Jake…” Katie’s tone held a note of admonition. “You men have plenty of idiosyncrasies that we put up with because we love you.”

“Thank the Lord for that!” Another chuckle rumbled in Jake’s chest.

The back and forth between the Warrens allowed Amie to regain her composure. She reached for the tissue box on the end table. Tom’s words moments ago touched her to the heart but riddled her with guilt for her earlier fit of temper too. In that instant, she saw things in a different light, realizing there were a lot people like this box, in need of repair by the Master’s touch. A vision of Big Al came to mind, causing her shame to mount. “Thank you for the gift, Tom,” she sniffed, clutching the piece of artistry. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

He gave her a warm smile, rising to his feet and Amie became aware that the room had grown oddly still. One quick glance around told her the entire Warren family watched on with tender expressions—even the children.

Her cheeks burned as if licked by the flames crackling in the fireplace.

“You’ve got a real talent there, Tom,” Jake’s gaze bounced from Tom to Amie. “I saw the box before and after.” He appeared as impressed as Amie.

“And Mrs. Jensen was kind enough to sew the quilted liner inside,” Tom added.

“Thank you,” Amie smiled at him.

The girls resumed tearing at their gifts. In addition to the dolls, Amie bought them one book each and a video to watch. One by one, they came over to give her a “thank you” kiss on the cheek.

Katie opened her gift, a bottle of perfumed body lotion.

Amie unwrapped the present from the Warrens. Katie had stitched her a wall-hanging. The embroidered words read, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you,” says the Lord, “thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11.

“This is lovely.” And a heavenly reminder which only furthered her regret over her earlier behavior. How could she feel jealous over Nancy when God had wonderful plans for both Nancy and her? The Lord didn’t play favorites. Amie flashed the gift at Tom, who nodded his approval.

“Well,” Katie said, getting up from the sofa, “it’s time for all girls under the age of ten to go to bed.”

“Awwww....” the four children replied in unison, sounding utterly disappointed. But after a pointed look from their father, they complied and marched off in the direction of their bedrooms.

Tom rose from his chair. “I’d better leave, too. Matt’s supposed to arrive bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Matt?” Amie tipped her head. Should she know who Matt was?

“My younger brother is driving here from Madison. He’s attending the university there—a junior this year.”

Jake slung a friendly arm around his shoulders. “Spoken like a proud papa.” Turning to Amie, he added, “Tom had been like a second father to Matt.”

“Oh, right.” Amie recalled Tom speaking of him. Her uncle had mentioned the young man in the beginning of his third journal. Matt was the “baby” of the Anderson family and Tom, being the oldest, was very protective of him.

“Jake,” Katie called from down the hallway, “can you give me a hand?”

“Coming, hon.” He turned to Tom. “See you tomorrow for Christmas dinner.”

“I’ll be here. And hopefully Matt will too.”

Jake left the room.

Tom walked to the front door, pulling his coat out of the hall closet. “I’ll see you tomorrow too, right?” Questions glistened in his eyes.

“You will, yes.” Amie stood and then leaned against the half-wall which divided the rooms. “Sorry about before...losing my temper and saying things I shouldn’t have. You’re a wonderful man. Honestly, what has me concerned is that Nancy will take advantage of the fact. But I also understand that she’s a new believer in Christ and needs prayers not my condemnation.”

“True. And I’m a big boy, Amie.” Tom buttoned the front of his coat.

“I know. I see what you mean now about trying to help the Simonsons.”

He quirked one eyebrow. “You had a change of heart?”

She nodded. “Can you forgive me?”

“Already have, Amie.”

“Thanks.” She struggled with her pride and shame and stared into his hazel eyes. She saw only tenderness—and maybe something more. Something that told her Tom was not in love with Nancy. Anxious flutters filled Amie’s insides and she looked away. Tom was an empathetic man with a deep understanding of the human heart. But would he understand her hurtful past? If she mustered the courage to tell him?

Tom pulled open the front door. “Merry Christmas, Amie.”

“Merry Christmas, Tom.”

He strode out into the flurries and drove away.

Amie stared out the window until the falling snow covered his footprints.