Isla woke with a start and bolted upright. Light filtered through the drawn curtains and fell in muted stripes across the carpet. She sat up. Wait. This was the rose room. Not the room Ella had given her.
That meant…
“Jody!”
She leapt from bed, her feet landing on the thick rug, and hurried across the floor. Before she could grasp the knob to the adjoining door, it flew open.
“What’s wrong?” Jody rushed inside, her almond-shaped eyes wide and her black hair in a crooked ponytail. “What happened?”
Isla wrapped her in a hug. Her heart pounded. She’d made it back!
Jody froze for a moment, then returned the embrace. “Are you all right? What’s going on?”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave, I promise.”
Jody pulled out of Isla’s tight grip. “Leave? What are you talking about?”
She didn’t know? What about the conversation she’d overheard Jody and Camille having? “Uh, what day is it?”
Jody stared at her. “What do you mean?” She pointed a finger. “You haven’t been experimenting with drugs, have you?”
“What? No.” Isla glanced at a digital clock on the nightstand. Seven A.M. “How long have we been here?”
Jody crossed her arms over her faded cat T-shirt. “We got here yesterday.”
Had the painting sent her back to the first night? “You didn’t miss me?”
“You mean after you were supposed to come have snacks with me but then missed dinner and then disappeared for the rest of the evening instead?” She sighed. “Of course I did.”
So Jody thought she’d hidden somewhere instead of going through the painting. Well, duh. Who would think to wonder if a person had fallen through a painting? But, that had been days ago. It should be Christmas Eve. Or maybe even Christmas Day.
Jody stared at her. “Did you have some kind of weird dream?”
Had she? Had the entire thing been a dream? She lifted her shoulders. “I went through Ella’s painting and ended up in the past. I spent several days in the eighteen hundreds.”
Jody stared at her a moment and then laughed. “Wow. That’s a crazy dream.”
But it hadn’t been a dream, had it? If it had, then that meant…
“Um, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
Isla picked at her fingernails. “It’s going to sound crazy, and if this was part of my dream, then just forget I said anything, okay?”
Jody’s forehead puckered. “What are you talking about?”
Better just spit it out and get it over with. “Are you going to adopt me?”
Jody’s eyes flew wide, and her hand slapped over her mouth.
Isla’s heart lurched. She should have known. Stupid. “I’m sorry. I know I’m too old.” She looked at her feet. “Sorry. Forget I said—”
“How did you know?”
Her gaze snapped up. What?
Jody stared at her, head tipped to the side. Then she gave a little grin. “I mean, I was going to ask and see if maybe—”
“Yes!” Isla squealed and grabbed Jody into a fierce hug.
“Really?” Jody spoke against Isla’s tangled hair. “I know you’re almost an adult, but I thought, if you want…” Her voice cracked and faded into a sob.
Isla pulled back and took a deep breath. “I want to bake Christmas cookies with you. And sing silly songs. And tell you when I’m scared. And ask your advice when I don’t know what to do.” Her own voice thickened. “And…and—”
Jody grabbed her and pulled her close, nearly crushing any remaining words that might have been forming in Isla’s chest.
“Me, too.”
Fire popped in the fireplace, and the Christmas tree blinked merrily with hundreds of little white lights. The smell of sugar cookies hung on the air. Isla took a seat in the music room and stared at the painting on the wall. Had she dreamed the entire thing? Or had she really gone back to the past?
Either way, it didn’t matter. God had given her a beautiful experience, and through that time in the past, showed her that she had both a mother and a Heavenly Father who loved her dearly.
The violin sat underneath the painting, the smooth wood glinting in the twinkling light. The instrument called to her again, and she gave in to the urge. Isla gently lifted the instrument from the case and drew a deep breath as she settled her chin in the rest and raised the neck.
Contentment swelled in her. She shouldn’t have given up playing. Her mother wouldn’t have wanted her to quit. The bow sat next to the case, and Isla bent to scoop it up. The hairs were in decent shape, only one or two broken and trailing.
“Play something for us?”
Startled, Isla turned to see Camille standing in the doorway. She stepped into the room, followed by Sandra and a very surprised-looking Jody.
Isla lowered the violin to her side. “I’m sorry. I know it’s old. I was careful, I promise.”
Sandra and Camille exchanged a look, and then Sandra stepped forward. “Last year someone donated that to us to help fill the music room with period instruments. It’s been sitting there for months. And then, wouldn’t you know, a few weeks ago we had a guest who happened to be a music enthusiast. He did some tinkering while he was here. He said he would tune that violin, even though I told him we didn’t have anyone who could play.”
Intrigued, Isla lifted it to her chin again. “It’s been a long time. But if it’s okay with you…”
“Absolutely!” Sandra clapped her hands. “I’d love to hear it played.”
With their encouragement, Isla drew the bow across the strings. The beautiful instrument vibrated beneath her fingers, drawing warmth from deep within her. She closed her eyes and drew the bow again, coaxing out a deep resonance. She faltered once, then settled.
The strings yielded beneath her fingers, and her muscles relaxed into a favorite song. Jody grinned as the music swelled, and Isla returned her smile. As she played, the part of her that had withered through the years bloomed to new life.
Her heart filled with hope as the room filled with the soulful melody. Her fingers switched, and she molded the tune into Silent Night. The hymn filled the crevices of her heart, reminding her of the Savior who loved her beyond measure.
The tune drew to a close, and Isla lowered the violin, the last note hovering on the air. Jody stood with her fingers over her lips, looking every bit as pleased as Momma had always been. Isla loved them both. And loving Jody didn’t mean she’d betrayed her parents. God had given her a big enough heart for all of them.
And she wouldn’t keep it locked away any longer.
Isla grinned and gave a little bow, then met Jody’s eyes. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”
Tears filled Jody’s eyes as she smiled back. “Merry Christmas.”
Dear reader,
I hope you enjoyed Isla’s Christmas tale. If you would kindly take a moment to leave a quick review at your favorite online retailer, I would greatly appreciate it. It only takes a sentence or two, and helps me keep getting books in your hands. Thank you and Merry Christmas!
If you would like to read more about Ella and Belmont Plantation, be sure to read In His Eyes!