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Nighttime in Honey Pot, near Christmas, was a fantasy of lights and ribbons. The Christmas tree in the town circle glimmered and twinkled. They changed the color of the lights, from year to year. For the season, the town council voted on blue and silver Christmas decorations. Their shimmery sparkle enhanced the frosty magic of Main Street.
Lydia drove through town in silence, soaking in the scenery. She had spent an hour emailing Ethan with the town happenings and getting him up to speed on her search for Ivy. Lydia figured it was better to tell him herself than to have him come home and find out from Kevin or Thad. Or worse, Gus.
The girls were clued into her quest, and both kept their eyes peeled. However, other than Flora’s bathroom encounter and Kat’s split-second spotting neither had seen Ivy Hooper.
The church parking lot was empty except for Kat’s minivan. The main participants would show up in an hour and the attendees in two. By 7pm most of the town would flood into the B.F.F. to celebrate together. Flora always commented that Christmastime in Honey Pot was a tiny taste of Heaven. Lydia agreed.
She exited her husband’s truck and hit the lock key twice. She secured her purse snuggly on her shoulder and tugged her coat about her. Kat met her at the door, panting and waving her arms.
Not again. Lydia was sure her friend was having another pageant induced panic attack. But no, the woman was holding the water well jar. “You found it!” No wonder she was yelling. $1,500, once missing, was rare to find. Kat shook her head, speechless. “What’s wrong?”
“Come. Look.” Kat wheezed and staggered back into the sanctuary. “Shut and lock the door behind you,” She called over her shoulder. Lydia obeyed. She followed Kat up onto the stage and right into the middle of the stable.
“I found the jar, right up front.” Kat pointed to a pew. “And then I found that.” Her index finger shivered as she extended it toward the form of a newborn baby, tucked firmly in the prop manger. “Tell me, I haven’t lost my mind.”
Lydia lowered herself to her knees. She reached out and gently laid a hand on the infant’s chest. It rose and fell beneath her palm. She smiled and brushed a thin spiral of hair puffing from the top of the baby’s head. “It’s real. There’s a baby in the manger.” Kat toppled off the stage, banging her bad foot on the hump of a wise man’s pressed wood camel cut out.
✽✽✽
Dr. Lawrence took Kat to his office to x-ray the re-damaged appendage. Thad called the Honey Pot phone tree leader, Mrs. Mitra, ensuring the news spread quickly. The Christmas pageant was canceled. Bailey Family Fellowship was a crime scene and off-limits for the evening.
Flora inspected the baby and proclaimed it less than a week old. “It still has its umbilical cord.” She stated upon first look. Then she jumped on her cell and called Mrs. Hurley.
Deputy Gus was methodical but out of his element without Ethan. He took detailed photos and notes but knew little about his next steps.
Mr. Mike refused to take in the baby. His youth center didn’t have resources for a newborn. Next on the list was Lydia, wife of the sheriff, already background checked, and on the Honey Pot safe drop list. She had the privilege of taking the baby home.
Lydia nestled the infant to her neck. The baby girl curled into her warmth and rooted for skin. Lydia was smitten. Flora rushed the nursery closet and removed a box she put there previously. Equipped with a second-hand car seat and sling, Lydia drove home.
Following her, a crowd of cars made an impromptu procession to her driveway. They watched as she carried the little one inside. Then one car, at a time, they peeled away from the parade and went home.
“Only in Honey Pot,” Lydia whispered to the baby.
The infant stirred and whimpered. The time to eat was now, but there was nothing to feed the sweet thing. Flora was taking care of the baby groceries. Lydia hoped she did so quickly and without distraction. In the meantime, Lydia took to her feet, pacing and humming.
“I’m here,” Flora chimed, disturbing the scene. She hurried to the kitchen and set down an enormous bag of supplies. “I didn’t bother to bag this one.” She passed a warm bottle to Lydia, who tested its temperature and offered it to the baby. It took a few desperate minutes of confusion before the tiny lady latched and suckled. The soft slurping noises were musical and magical, drawing the full attention of the women in the room.
“Where did you get this?”
“Mrs. Hurley has way too much milk for her baby. She’s been bagging extra supplies for weeks. This bottle was pumped not fifteen minutes ago.” Lydia was pleased with the selfless offering of mother’s milk. “You’ve got enough in the freezer to last you a week. You remember how to heat it?” Flora peeped over Lydia’s shoulder to watch the baby eat.
“In the microwave?” Flora gagged at Lydia’s blatant ignorance. “I’m joking. Don’t panic.”
“That joke was Kat’s style.” Flora settled into the couch beside Lydia as Kat sneaked in the front door. Her hobble had doubled, and her crutches were back in play.
“What’s my style?”
The ladies waved her off. “What are you doing here?” Lydia asked. “You should be home and knocked out on pain medication.”
“In a little while.” Kat planted herself on Lydia’s free side and rested her friend’s working elbow on her leg. “You’ll get a cramp if you don’t prop up that arm.”
“Thanks.” Lydia had forgotten about nursing and its unique set of supplies.
“They’re calling her the Honey Pot Christmas Baby,” Kat said. Flora and Lydia both clicked their tongues in disgust. “Creative, I know. But seriously, what should we call her?”
Lydia cleared her throat. “Listen, ladies, we can love this little girl, but she’s not ours. Her mommy is out there, and she’ll be back for her. I’m not sure it’s wise to name her.”
“She’s not a wild cat.” Flora brushed the baby’s cheek with her pinkie. “She deserves a name. We know it’s not permanent. Let’s call her Honey.”
“No way,” Kat protested. In her past, she watched too many movies with Honeys in them. Movies, she was certain, Lydia and Flora never allowed on their screens. This baby would not bear a title after one of them. “How about Bea?”
“Like Honey Bee?”
“If you’d like,” Kat suggested. Bea was close enough to baby; it didn’t risk intimacy but was still a respectable handle.
“Okay, Bea. But just for now.” The ladies watched the baby eat and drift back to sleep. Like lifeguards on Red Bull scanning a kiddie pool, all three women observed the little one’s every move. Each fell in love with the bundled Bea.
✽✽✽
Thaddeus greeted his hobbling wife with a warm hug. He also had a small plate of treats and pain pills waiting on the kitchen countertop. Kat welcomed his concern and babying. In prior weeks, she’d openly scoffed and shunned such sweetness. Now, humbled and heartsick, she dropped her feeble barriers and soaked in the support.
The family huddled on their homey couch wrapped in electric blankets and fluffy pajamas. Kat selected a family favorite Christmas movie and made her seasonal popcorn with cinnamon and sugar sprinkles. Sam and Jess dove into family time eager for the Holiday to begin. Finally, mom was home and ready to celebrate.
Sam took tender measure to prop up his mother’s wrapped foot and pad it with pillowed protection. Jess tucked herself into Kat’s side, pushing on her mom’s crutch bruised armpit. Kat didn’t even wince. She sunk into being home. She’d set it aside like an old dirty quilt, but home was the feeling she had been pandering after.
Near the start of movie number three, the kids were snoring on their mother’s lap. She, herself, drooled. Her head bent, awkwardly, against the back of the couch. Half asleep, muddled in a medication haze, Kat reveled over the Christmas baby. God’s sense of timing and humor astounded her.
“A baby,” She mumbled. Thad dozed beside her but still followed her thoughts. “God used a baby to ruin the pageant and stop my insanity. Breaking my foot wasn’t enough to hold me back. The flu outbreak didn’t even slow me down. But a baby, smack in the middle of my mess. Yup, that’s what it took.”
✽✽✽
The church building was shut down tightly for the weekend. Members of the B.F.F. joined the Church of Christ family until it reopened. Kat’s family was no exception. Too exhausted to attend class, the Millers drifted into services right after morning announcements. Not a single seat remained vacant. Jess and Sam plopped on the floor, beside Ever, Eden, and Eloise. Kevin rose from the back pew and offered his seat to Kat. She took it.
Communion took an entire half an hour. The trays had to be replenished twice. Preacher Steven invited Pastor Dean to lead the ending prayer and a blessing over the community. It was exhilarating to be part of such a unified group. Flora whispered to Kat, “A taste of Heaven.” For the first time, Kat felt her friend’s meaning.