Chapter 26

Ben had made an Advent Calendar for the girls, a stack of twenty-five compartments in the shape of a Christmas tree. Behind each compartment door was a symbol of Christmas. Today, the twenty-second of December, it was Megan’s turn to open it. With great diligence, she pried the small hatch open, reached in, and took out a miniature dove.

“Do you know what that is?” Ben asked.

“I know,” Maren exclaimed, wildly waving her hand. “It’s a bird.”

“Ah, but what kind of bird?”

The girls thought for a moment. “A pigeon?” Megan asked rather than answered.

“Close,” Ben laughed. “It’s a dove. What does a dove represent?”

“What does ‘represent’ mean?” Maren asked, her brow furrowed.

Deidre covered her mouth.

“It means what does it stand for.” Ben answered patiently.

After a lengthy silence he said, “It stands for peace.”

“Oh, you mean like when people don’t shoot each other?”

“Well, something like that.” Ben decided that was enough of a lesson, and decided to leave morality to another day. “Who wants pancakes for breakfast?”

Both girls’ hand shot up. “I do. Hooray!” and they ran off to get their dolls.

Somehow, everyone made it through the weekend, and Monday became a grueling day for the twins.

“Daddy, can’t we open just one present today. We promise not to bug you anymore if we can open just one,” they whined so many times that Ben had to make an edict.

“Every time you ask to open a gift early, I’m going to tack a half hour on to when we start opening them on Christmas Eve. Be careful what you say or it might be Christmas Day before we open gifts.”

The girls’ eyes widened in surprise, and they went off into the other room. Deidre and Ben could hear them whispering, perhaps wondering if they should test the law. For the rest of the day, they never mentioned the subject again, but every so often one of them, or both, would go to the base of the tree and read the labels on the presents again. Deidre watched them count who had how many gifts.

That night, Ben and Deidre allowed them to stay up an hour past their bedtime, and they made hot apple cider to go with the cookies Deidre and the girls had made that afternoon.

When they were being tucked in for the night, Megan and Maren were like “wiggly worms” as Deidre said.

“We are not wiggly worms!”

“Oh, yes, you are!”

“Are not!”

“Are too,” and Deidre pretended to pin Megan down with her quilt.

“Okay,” Ben had to say, “It’s time for sleep. Settle down now and close your eyes.”

Deidre watched as both children lay perfectly still on their backs, their eyelids closed, but behind the closed lids she could see the movement of their eyes, and she knew what would happen the instant she and Ben left their room.

He turned on the night light and turned off the bed lamp. As soon as the two of them were in the hall, they could hear giggling and moving around.

“I think we’re losing the battle,” Ben whispered in Deidre’s ear, and they tiptoed down the stairs to the living room, where they sat and squinted at the tree lights so that star-burst patterns were created.

A perfect day is coming to a close, Deidre thought.

“An end to a perfect day,” Ben declared out loud. She nodded.

 

*****

 

Christmas Eve Day began with a chorus of voices at Deidre’s door. Ben and the girls stood outside singing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” followed by an off-key version of “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.”

She looked at her clock, 7:25, threw on her robe and opened her door.

“We get to open presents tonight!” Maren excitedly exclaimed. Megan took her hand and led her to the stairs.

“Daddy made a special Christmas breakfast for us. Come see!”

Ben had made French toast by cutting the bread slices in the shape of an evergreen tree with a cookie cutter. After frying them in the usual manner, he had decorated each tree with colored sprinkles and blue berries. Then he dusted them with powdered sugar, making his creation look like a winter scene. It had to have taken him an hour, Deidre thought.

The “family” sat down to their Christmas Eve breakfast feast, complete with crispy bacon and eggnog.

“We usually go to church on Christmas Eve. Will you join us, Deidre, or would you rather stay home?”

In her entire life, she had never attended a Christmas service, or very few others for that matter. She thought for a moment, and then saw the expectant looks in the twins eyes. “Okay, should be fun,” she said, not completely sure she really wanted to attend.

That afternoon they all went to the largest mall in the city and watched shoppers frantically rushing to make their last-minute gift selections. They stopped to hear a choir singing in the mall’s rotunda. It was a good choir, singing excerpts from some of the old masters, Bach, Handel, and others, and Deidre let her spirit soar with the notes. She realized she had taken Ben’s hand, and he was gently squeezing hers.

Supper was a simple smorgasbord, set so everyone could fix what they wanted from several selections. It also made for a quick cleanup, and Megan and Maren were all too eager to help. By six, they were ready to gather around the tree. Ben put on a Santa cap, and began rummaging under the tree. “Let’s see,” he said examining a tag. “This one is for Maren. Can you read who it’s from?”

Maren squinted, and Deidre could see she was trying to sound out the name. “Meg . . . an. Megan!” She ripped the wrapping from the gift her sister had so carefully wrapped.

The scene was repeated over and over, everyone taking a turn while the others oohed and aahed over the gifts. Finally, there was only one round of gifts left to open. Ben opened the one from Deidre and his eyes lit up when he pulled out the new sleeping bag.

“Why, thank you! I didn’t know you were even listening when I told you about my old one having a hole burned in it.”

Unexpectedly, he leaned over and kissed Deidre’s cheek. That really caused the girls to giggle. He handed her the gift he had bought.

The package was quite large and rectangular. Deidre shook it, but nothing rattled. She methodically peeled the paper off and carefully loosened the tape holding the seams. The girls squirmed and shifted their positions. Megan stood by her shoulder in anticipation of what would be revealed. She lifted the top off the box.

“Oh, Ben. This is beautiful.” She held up an authentic Norwegian-made sweater. Knitted into the fabric were traditional Scandinavian designs. The clasps in front looked to be handmade of silver.

She held it up to her front and felt the heft of the fabric. Deidre buried her face in the wool to hide her tears. Then she looked up. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” and she gave Ben a hug that lasted many seconds. She felt his arms wrap around her, cuddling her and the sweater together.

“One more! There’s one more!” Maren shouted. “It’s from Deidre.”

Ben moved the very large box into the center of the room, and the girls attacked it, pieces of paper flying in every direction. When the dollhouse was exposed, their mouths dropped open, and they sat on the floor for a moment, stunned.

Maren picked up the transparent package that held the dolls. “Look, Megan. It’s a family. There’s Daddy, and this one is you, and this one is me.” She pointed to the female figure. “Is this you, Deidre?” she asked, her eyes pleading for the answer she wanted. Deidre wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

“Would you like that to be me?” she asked. The girls nodded.

“Okay, then that’s me.” Her answer satisfied them, and nothing more was said.

As they were cleaning up the paper mess, Ben leaned close to her. “I’m not putting them up to this, I swear.”

“That’s all right. They’re just children. By the way, thank you for the beautiful sweater. I’ve always wanted one but never afforded myself the luxury,” she said, changing the subject.

 

*****

 

But for the glow of candles set in every window and a collection arranged on the altar, the church was darkened when they arrived. Deidre was not comfortable in that setting, but as she sat, taking in the shadows and light patterns produced by the open flames, she began to relax. She was seated next to Ben, and he reached over and took her hand. Megan was on the other side of her and intertwined her arm inside Deidre’s elbow.

Deidre held a copy of the order of service in her free hand, and she noticed that even though much was strange, she recognized the titles of the hymns: “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear,” and “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.”

The one tune she didn’t recognize was “Silent Night Benediction.” She didn’t recognize the name of the composer, but an asterisk after his name led her to a brief note that he was a local composer.

Before she could read more, the service began, the congregation stood, and the house lights were brought up so they could read the words to the carol. By the time they finished the song, the processional had reached the front of the church, and the pastor began to speak. Immediately, Deidre’s mind began to wander, and she found herself lost in thought, wondering what the child victims were doing in the hospital, wondering if the abductors would be so brazen as to attempt one more delivery of human lives that was scheduled after Christmas, wondering how many more lives would be destroyed by the river of young women flowing from Thunder Bay to Duluth.

Her thoughts were disrupted when a box of small candles was passed down her row. She watched as everyone took one and adjusted a wax guard to protect their fingers. Megan showed her how to do it, and she sat waiting for further directions.

The pastor instructed everyone, “Please tilt your unlit candle toward the lit candle of your neighbor. That way, melted wax will not drip on the floor.”

The house lights were extinguished, and the ushers lit the candles of those congregants sitting on the aisle. The next person in from the aisle lit his or her candle off the lit one and so on down the row. In seconds the wave reached Deidre, and she successfully passed on the light. Soon the sanctuary was lit by the glow of hundreds of candles.

From the front of a church, someone began to softly play the piano, and a tenor voice softly sang, “Peace I give to you, not as the world knows peace. Peace I give to you. God grant us peace.”

As the singer’s mellow voice led the congregation through the words, almost like a chant, Deidre felt herself being caught up in the moment. When will the world ever know peace, she thought. Will there ever be peace?

A tear ran down her cheek and dripped off her chin, and she found herself singing the words, her eyes closed, and desperately, she wanted to claim the peace she was feeling at that moment.

Without notice the song leader smoothly slipped into singing “Silent Night.” After the last verse was sung, everyone extinguished their candles, and the sanctuary went dark, except for the candles on the altar and those in the windows.

Even though hundreds of people filled the sanctuary, there was not a sound, not the rustle of papers, not the sound of someone rushing to put on their jacket so they could make a quick getaway, not even a cough.

Row by row, the ushers directed the exit of the worshippers. Still, no one talked, and even in the narthex, people were speaking in hushed tones. On the way home they were silent. Megan and Maren were half a sleep in the back seat, and Ben and Deidre were buried deep in their own thoughts.

Why can’t our lives be filled with this kind of peace everyday, she wondered. Certainly humanity has made enough progress that we can cease injuring each other.

Ben pulled into the driveway. Together they carried the sleeping children into the house and to their rooms. Deidre couldn’t get past their childhood innocence as, in their sleep, they curled up and buried their heads in their pillows. She kissed each of them before leaving their room.

As they quietly made their way downstairs, Ben whispered, “Time for Santa to arrive.”

He went to the basement, and Deidre could hear him rummaging around. In a few minutes he came up the stairs, laden with packages. “Santa had a good year,” he laughed.

For the next half hour, they arranged the gifts. The girls had left out carrots for the reindeer and cookies for Santa. The carrots went back in the refrigerator, and Ben ate the cookies, making sure to leave some crumbs on the plate.

Six-thirty the next morning, Deidre awoke to squeals of delight coming from downstairs, followed by racing footsteps coming upstairs.

“Deidre!” Maren exclaimed, her eyes wide open. “You got to see this. Hurry! Santa came last night.” They grabbed Deidre’s hands and pulled her out of bed.

Ben was already in the kitchen. He emerged with a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Daddy, can we start now?”

“Go for it,” he said, handed Deidre her cup, and sat down to watch the excitement.

Amid exclamations of “Look what he brought me” and “It’s just what I wanted,” Deidre could do nothing but grin. She looked at Ben, and he winked at her.

About mid-morning, Ben’s mother and father arrived. Rebecca gave Deidre the once over look. “Looks like you’ve been spending a lot of time here lately,” she said abruptly.

“Rebecca,” Jim butted in. “We’re delighted to see you again, Deidre. “You must forgive Rebecca. She fell off the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Rebecca gave him a sideways glance and stomped off to the kitchen, where Deidre heard her asking Ben if he needed her help.

Jim took Deidre’s hands. “It’s okay. She just needs some time to get used to things being different. She and Jenny were like mother and daughter, and I think Rebecca’s still mourning her death. Be patient,” and he gave Deidre a hug.

At that moment, Deidre decided her only recourse was to show Rebecca rather than tell her how easily she was fitting into her granddaughter’s lives. By the time Christmas Day was history, she thought she had made some progress.

When Jim and Rebecca were heading out the door, Jim hugged her and whispered in her ear. “Hang with us. Everything’s going to be fine.”

That evening, after the kids had been put to bed, the two adults sat staring at the tree, exhausted.

“Do you have a lot to do tomorrow and Friday?”

Deidre looked at Ben and realized she had very little on her agenda until the next week when the Aegean Sea would be coming into port.

“Not really. What do you have in mind?”

Ben had an expectant smile on his face. “I’ve got just a few things to clear up at the office. I could be done about ten on Friday. What if you got your cabin warmed up? The three of us could be there by late afternoon. I know the girls would love being in the woods in the winter. What do you think? I’ll bring the food if you want, and we could stay ’til late Sunday.”

Deidre was thrilled. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of the idea herself. As they sat staring at the tree again, she pictured what it would be like to be snowed in with them at the cabin.