Chapter Nineteen

And this present is for you,” Emily said, handing Pete a shiny wrapped package. Charlotte pulled her housecoat closer around herself, stifling a slight shiver. The heat from the corn burner hadn’t reached her yet.

But that didn’t matter, because she glowed inside on this Christmas morning.

The gentle strains of Christmas carols threaded through the rustling of wrapping paper dropping onto the floor and the happy chatter of the kids as they encouraged Pete to hurry up and open his present.

Bob sat beside her, the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree reflecting off his glasses. He was dressed, and it looked like he’d already been outside. Charlotte wondered what he had been doing but didn’t ask. It was Christmas, after all. A time of magical surprises and gifts.

The pile of presents under the tree had been shrinking, and now, only one large rectangular gift remained visible.

“Stop wasting time, Uncle Pete,” Emily was saying. “Just open it already.”

“This is really nice wrapping. I figured I could use it to wrap Dana’s present.” Pete made a big show of carefully folding the shiny paper.

Emily made a grab for it and Pete looked aghast.

“My name is Pete Stevenson,” he intoned in a Spanish accent as he pushed her away. “You stole my paper. Prepare to die.”

“I thought we were done with those stupid quotes from The Princess Bride,” Sam groaned.

“That would take a miracle,” Emily said.

From Sam’s eye roll Charlotte guessed her comment was another quote from the movie. At Pete and Emily’s insistence, she had finally watched the show and was mildly entertained by it but couldn’t understand why they would have watched it so much they could quote from it endlessly.

“Okay, Buttercup, here goes,” Pete said, opening the box he had been given. He held up a pair of lined leather gloves. “Wow, these are great. Thanks so much.” He pulled them onto his hands and flexed his fingers. “And they’re nice and warm.”

“And you’re not allowed to use them to pump gas from the tank into your truck,” Emily warned. “They’re for wearing to church and for when you take Miss Simons out.”

“As you wish,” Pete said bowing his head in a mock salute. “And thanks again.”

“And now, one last present,” Sam said diving under the Christmas tree and pulling out the final gift, hidden in back. He glanced at Emily and Christopher and brought the gift to Bob and Charlotte. “This is for both of you from me, Emily, and Christopher.” He looked a bit self-conscious as he handed Charlotte the present.

“Why, thank you so much,” Charlotte said, holding the beautifully wrapped gift and glancing at Bob. “I feel like I should save the paper too,” she said, running her finger over the shiny wrapping.

“Here. I’ll help you get over that.” Bob reached over, hooked his finger under an edge and tore it down the middle. “Now you don’t have to bother.”

Charlotte had to laugh, even as she felt a moment’s regret for the desecration of such beautiful paper.

“Okay, okay,” she said, ripping the rest of the paper off like a little child.

She uncovered a large picture frame, and as she held it up, she felt a burst of pure, unadulterated love.

Staring back at her from the frame was a collage of candid shots of each of the grandchildren, including baby Will. The pictures were organized in a circle around an older photo of her and Bob.

“Oh, my word,” she breathed, touching each of the beloved faces in the grouping one by one. “This is so beautiful.”

Bob, leaning over to see the gift, was slowly shaking his head. “How did you children do this?”

“We used Emily’s camera to take our pictures,” Sam said. “And Anna e-mailed us the pictures of her kids. Then we took them into town to get printed.”

“This is so beautiful,” Charlotte said, feeling her throat thicken with emotion. “So precious.” She continued to touch each of the photographed faces of the children. Christopher with a little half-smirk on his face, his cheeks red, and his stocking cap pulled on crooked. Emily giving her best flirtatious look. Sam with his arms crossed, standing in front of a snow-covered field, his head bare and his coat open. Will’s scrunched-up, newborn face. Jennifer looking like someone had surprised her mid-mischief, and Madison appearing primly amused.

“This is a wonderful, wonderful gift.”

“All we have to do now,” Emily said, “is get a newer picture of you and Grandpa for the middle.” She held up her camera. “Can I take one now?”

Charlotte clutched her hair, knowing what a rat’s nest it looked like. “Can we wait until we come home from church? When I have some makeup on and my hair is decent?”

“Of course,” Emily said with a laugh. She looked back at the tree. “So I guess we’re all done for another year.”

“Not quite,” Charlotte said, pushing herself off her chair. She stepped over to the Christmas tree and pulled an envelope out of the branches. “There’s this yet.” She opened the envelope and drew out three smaller ones. “This came a couple of days ago in the mail. From your father.”

Silence followed as the children each took the envelopes with their names written on them. Emily opened hers first.

“A gift card,” Emily said with a smile. “For fifty dollars at my favorite clothing store.”

“I got one for that skateboarding shop.” Sam held his up with a grin.

“And I got one for that place where we bought my Nintendo.” Chris was all smiles. “I can get another game.”

“I hope the certificates are good for the money,” Sam said with a wry grin.

“Of course they are,” Pete put in. “You can’t get a gift certificate if you don’t have the money.”

Sam nodded, still looking down at the card. “I’m glad he thought of us,” he said.

“Of course he would. He’s your father,” Bob said.

Sam and Emily exchanged a wry look, and then Emily gave Bob a quick smile. “Yeah. I guess.”

Sam put his card with his other presents, and Emily tucked hers in the pocket of her pajama pants. Christopher was staring off into space, still holding his. Probably dreaming of what he was going to buy with it, Charlotte thought.

Bob pushed himself off his chair. “If we’re done here, I guess I can give my present to you all.”

This caught Christopher’s attention. “I thought we were all done.” He shot a puzzled glance at the empty space under the Christmas tree.

“Well, my present to you is, I already did the chores, so you don’t have to do anything else today.”

This was greeted with a chorus of thank-yous and hugs from all three children.

Charlotte had to smile. Even after all these years of marriage, Bob could still surprise her.

“But I do have one more thing,” Bob said, pulling a piece of paper out of his back pocket. He gave it to Pete, who took it and then frowned.

“What’s this?”

“Look at it.”

Pete unfolded the paper, read it, shook his head, and read it again. “This is for an appointment with a builder.”

“To draw up plans for a house for you and Dana.”

Pete’s mouth fell open. He blinked and looked from his father to his mother.

“But I thought we couldn’t afford—”

“We can, and we will,” Bob said.

Silence followed Bob’s decisive comment, and Charlotte sent up a silent prayer of thanks that this particular issue was also resolved.

“Well, I better get ready,” Pete said, getting up. He folded up the paper and slipped it in his back pocket. “I promised Dana I would stop by her place and take her to church.”

“You’ll be coming here for dinner, right?” Charlotte asked.

“Do you even need to ask?” Pete said, his question answering hers. “Especially now that we have plans to make.” Pete looked over at his father and gave him an awkward hug.

“Thanks, Dad. This means a lot.”

Bob nodded, looking a little embarrassed. “I just want you to know how much I appreciate your work. You’re a good son, and this was a small way of saying thanks.”

Pete looked at the paper again, his smile a mile wide. “I can hardly wait to tell Dana.”

Charlotte smiled as Pete sauntered out of the house, whistling, his happiness and general contentment contagious.

“I’m taking my presents upstairs,” Christopher said, gathering all his things.

“Don’t forget, we’ve got church later,” Charlotte warned, pushing herself off her chair. “And we’re going to have breakfast in about half an hour.

“I’m going to call Arielle. See how she liked her present,” Sam said, sauntering over to the phone.

“No fair. You hogged the phone talking to her all last night, making your college plans,” Emily protested, scrambling to her feet in a bid to beat him to the telephone. “You can talk to her at church.”

But Sam got there first and held the handset aloft.

“Sam Slater. You give me that phone right now.” Emily made a futile grab for the handset just as Sam danced out of her reach.

“You can call Ashley when I’m done.”

“You won’t be done for hours,” Emily retorted, making another grab for the phone.

“Hey, you guys,” Bob hollered. “Settle down or I will find some chores for you to do.”

Emily just grinned, knowing her grandfather was teasing. “Sam won’t give me the phone.”

Bob glanced at Charlotte, who was heading toward the sanctuary of her kitchen, her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Don’t look at me,” she said. “I’m not getting between teenagers and the telephone. I’ve got pancakes to make.”

Sam just laughed and raced down the hall and up the stairs, Emily in close pursuit.

Charlotte heard a thump on the landing, and then a wail. “Emily, that hurt,” Christopher called.

“Sorry, buddy,” she heard Emily say, “Hey, Sam, no fair. Come back here.”

“I’ll get you for this, Emily,” Christopher replied, his footsteps following his brother and sister up the stairs.

Bob snapped open the newspaper and leaned back in his recliner.

“Home sweet home,” he said with a sigh. Then he looked over at Charlotte and winked. “And I wouldn’t trade it for all the money in the world.”

“Neither would I,” Charlotte added, smiling in spite of the momentary chaos reigning in their home.

She continued on to the kitchen, humming along to the song playing on the stereo.

“… peace on earth, goodwill to men.”

And even as the children playfully bickered upstairs, she felt the peace that was promised at Christmas.

She didn’t know what was coming in the next few months, the next year. She knew there would be changes as the children grew up and started making their own decisions. But for now, she and Bob had their grandchildren with them, and for now, they were home.

Thank you, Lord, she prayed again as she pulled the bowl out of the cupboard and the eggs out of the refrigerator. Thank you for our children and our home and the community we live in. Thank you that you gave up your son.

For just a moment, she understood what a sacrifice that had been.

Thank you for the promise of Christmas, she prayed as she started working on the next meal for her family.