The Christmas Light (12 page)

“I don’t think you could help.”

Dr. Becke leans back and claps her hands, laughing, and Jennifer shakes her head. She hadn’t expected that from Avery. Dr. Becke reaches over and puts her hand on Homer’s head, squeezing it. “Listen, I wanted you to come in a couple of days earlier than our scheduled appointment because I was looking at the beautiful picture you made of the balloon for me.” She gets up and pulls out the pushpin that holds the picture to the board above her desk. “You know, even though I’ve been through lots of schooling and have been in practice for over twenty-five years and even have the word ‘doctor’ before my name, you have taught me something, Avery.” The little girl’s eyes are wide. “Since you colored this balloon for me, every time I sit at my desk I get to look at it. A couple of days ago, I was on the phone and looking at this beautiful picture again, when it came to me.”

“What?” Avery asks.

“Well, since you are unable to call your dad, I thought that you could write a letter to him, and when you’re done, you, your mom, and I will tie it to some helium balloons and release it.”

Avery is still, thinking. She bounces Homer on her knees and then looks at Dr. Becke. “What do I say in the letter?”

“Everything you have wanted to say to him every time you have reached for the phone. Good or bad.” Dr. Becke looks at Jen and she nods as a small smile forms.

“I don’t want him to think that I’m mad at him because he left. I don’t think I should say that.”

“Say whatever you feel,” Jen says. “If it were me, I’d want you to tell me.”

Dr. Becke walks to her desk and opens a drawer, pulling several colors of paper from it. “I bought all sorts of stationery so you could find just the right one.” She holds them in front of her. “Here is one with the Disney princesses, this one is pink with sparkly stars on it, this one has a border of red hearts around it, butterflies are the theme of this one, and then there’s just all sorts of colors, some with sparkles, some with animals as the background, and some that just have words like ‘love’ and ‘hope’ written on them.” She sets the stationery down in front of Avery and moves back to her desk, retrieving a plastic box filled with pencils, pens, crayons, and markers. “You can write the letter here today during our time or you can take it home, if you’re not sure what you want to say.”

Avery sets Homer on the sofa and leans over, picking up the stationery. “I know exactly what I want to say.” She riffles through the pages and selects a light blue piece with sparkly hearts and stars. “Will you and Mom read it?”

“Only if you want us to.”

“I just want Dad to read it.” She reaches for a red pencil. “I only know how to spell a few words. We get new spelling words every week.”

Dr. Becke smiles, sitting on a chair and resting her arms on her knees. “That’s okay. Just spell what you can,” she says, looking at Jen.

The letter takes close to an hour as Avery sounds out each word in her head, before writing it. Avery keeps her head down and concentrates on every letter. When she finishes, she reaches for another sheet of paper, green this time, and draws a heart that takes up most of the page. She colors a quarter of an inch or so in red and then another quarter inch in yellow, aqua, purple, green, and so on until the heart is a rainbow of color. She writes, “I love you Dad, Form Avery” across the top and holds it up for her mom to see.

“I don’t know what his favorite color is anymore. So I used all of them.”

Jen smiles and feels her heart quivering. “He’ll love it.”

Dr. Becke walks to her desk for an oversized envelope and hands it to Avery. “When you finish, just put the letter and the picture in here and we’ll take it outside.”

Avery holds the letter in front of her as if she’s proofing a document about to be sent to the printer and then carefully folds it and the heart, before inserting them into the envelope and sealing it.

Dr. Becke holds out her hand. “All set?” Avery nods and Dr. Becke opens the door to her bathroom. Avery peers around her and sees a few colorful balloons, bobbing against the ceiling. She grins and reaches for the long strings, gathering them together. Dr. Becke uses a hole punch to create two holes on each end of the envelope and then loops the strings through them, tying them together in a knot and securing the letter. “Does it feel ready for flight?” Avery touches the string and the letter and nods. “Ready to launch it?” Avery holds the balloons and leads them through the reception area and outside to the parking lot, where the air slaps at their cheeks, turning them red. “You pick the spot,” Dr. Becke says.

Avery looks around and chooses the side of the building, where there is a patch of grass struggling to breathe beneath gray, mournful-looking snow. Her breath comes out in small clouds as she looks into the sky. Dr. Becke catches Jennifer’s eye as Avery releases the balloons. They stretch their necks, watching as they climb. It’s as if the balloons catch strength from the air and are called higher and higher, until they are out of sight.

THIRTEEN

Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence …

—H
ELEN
K
ELLER

“That’s exactly what Ryan said: ‘No, I don’t,’” Gloria says, baffled. “Who wouldn’t enjoy working with Jen De Luca? She’s so sweet.”

Miriam is pacing in the choir room. “Maybe they had some sort of argument.”

“About what? Which nail to use?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Miriam’s waving her arms over her head. “I have a genuine crisis here and you are stewing over a comment that you probably didn’t even hear correctly.”

“I heard it fine. I just don’t understand why he said it.”

“I don’t understand why you are so nosy,” Miriam says beneath her breath and sifting through the sheet music.

Gloria snaps her fingers, pointing. “I heard that, too! And I am not nosy. I’m just concerned.”

Miriam slaps the music down on the piano top with a huff. “About what? Why are you slighted that Ryan doesn’t enjoy working with Jennifer?” Gloria shrugs and Miriam’s eyes light up. “Oh, I see! You had Jen work on the set because you wanted her to think that your nephew was cute.”

“I did no such thing.” Gloria’s hands are on her hips.

“I think thou dost protest too much. And you do not look at all convincing wearing a sweatshirt with Snoopy in a Santa hat.” Gloria opens her mouth and Miriam talks over her. “You’re like some odd Christmas cupid who reeks of mulled cider and cake. You thought you could put two people in a room together and that love would blossom, but now you are distraught because your sad plan has failed. Your nephew is not interested.”

Gloria sighs, sitting on one of the chairs in defeat. “How could this happen? Ryan is twenty gallons of delicious.”

“That just sounds so wrong on every level, coming from his aunt.”

Gloria puts her hand in the air to stop Miriam. “And Jen is kind and smart and so pretty and a wonderful mother.”

Miriam sits next to her and slaps Gloria’s thigh. “The sooner you discover that people are the absolute worst at setting other people up, the better off you’ll be.”

“Lenny was a wonderful match for you!”

“First off, his name is Lenny. Second of all, he took me to the Chuck Wagon for their early bird buffet. I’ve never choked down a sirloin at four o’clock in the afternoon before. Last, he had me home by six because he had to watch
Jeopardy
with his mother.” Gloria hangs her head. “Can we move on to my crisis?” Gloria nods. “Ed has to go out of town on business and his flight does not get back in town until the evening of the twenty-fourth, so he can no longer sing the solo in ‘Go Tell It on the Mountain.’ We don’t have any other tenors.”

“Well, we have—”

“No we don’t!” Miriam snaps, unable to hear what Gloria has to say.

“He’s the only experienced tenor in—”

“Almost singing the jingle for Radiators Plus is not experience, Gloria!”

“Let me put it another way … all of the other men have said that they do not want a solo. Bunker is the only one who wants to sing a solo. He asks us every time he sees us. He asked in the Christmas card that he sent me and Marshall, and he asked Marshall if he could sing for him at the store and made a mess of ‘The Little Drummer Boy,’ right there in the middle of the shoe department.” Miriam shakes her head. She can’t even comprehend it. “The Psalms tells us to make a joyful noise.” Miriam stands. “Where are you going?”

Miriam looks at her. “To call the noisemaker.”

*   *   *

After an hour of driving, Jen and Avery pull into the drive for the town of Garrett’s Fire and Rescue Department. The building looks like a three-car garage. She parks away from the big garage doors and she and Avery walk to the entrance. “Thank you for coming,” Jen says, looking at Avery.

“You made me.”

Jen smiles. “I didn’t make you. I asked you.”

Avery shrugs and looks at the door. “Let’s just go do it and get it done.” She takes her mother’s hand and they walk through the door.

A simple metal desk sits in the middle of a mostly bare room. A long, black vinyl sofa sits in front of the window with a matching armchair against a wall. Various pictures of fire and rescue squad members line the white walls. Two yellow trucks with
GARRETT FIRE AND RESCUE
written on the sides can be seen in the spacious garage to the left. “Hey there! Hello,” a man says, walking toward them from one of the trucks. He is for all intents and purposes bald, save for a few sprouts of hair, and wearing mustard-colored pants and a white T-shirt with the fire and rescue circle logo on the left breast. “Can I help you?”

Jen extends her hand, smiling, as she puts her other hand on Avery’s shoulder, drawing her close. “My name is Jennifer De Luca.”

“Rick.”

“I live in Grandon, and three years ago we were in a car accident on the highway, and from what I understand, this squad was the first on the scene.”

Rick nods, pointing to the sofa. “Please. Sit down.” He sits in the chair and rests his forearms on his knees, listening.

Jen likes him. He somehow puts her at ease and she wonders if he’s the one who gave Avery the angel. “I was wondering if there’s any way to find out which of your squad members helped us that evening.” He looks concerned and she holds up her hand. “Nothing is wrong. You see, someone, one of the men from the squad, was actually praying for us that night. He even put a scarf around my neck and gave my daughter a doll. We just want to find him and say thank you.”

Rick rubs his head with both hands. “Wow, that—”

“I had a feeling it might be too hard,” Jen says.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say. We’re able to keep pretty accurate files these days. It just doesn’t sound like one of us.” Jen’s face falls as he adds, “I don’t mean to say that someone here wouldn’t pray or give a girl a doll, but there’s always so much communication going on between the squad members, and things are moving so quickly, that it seems unlikely that any of us could slow down long enough to do those things.” Her eyes tell him that she has come here placing all of her hope inside this building, and he rises to his feet. “But let’s get on the computer and find out who was there that night.” He moves to the desk and sits down. “What was the date?”

Jen walks behind him and looks at the computer as Avery stays on the sofa. “December 3, 2011.”

He clicks open one file and then another before mumbling to himself and opening another application. “Ron knows his way around this computer better than any of us but he’s not here today. Hold on.” He leans onto the desk, getting closer to the screen. Several clicks later, he makes an “aha” sound. “Two vehicles. A 2006 white SUV and 2003 black Nissan on the northbound lane of—”

“That’s it,” Jen says, reading over his shoulder.

“Lane Reinholdt was there. She’s been part of the squad for about ten years now.”

“It wasn’t a woman,” Jen says.

“And it looks like Randy Mayhew was there.”

Jen looks at him. “Randy Mayhew? That’s him, I’m sure. Is Mr. Mayhew here today?”

“He’s probably at work. We’re all mostly volunteer.”

Jen glances at Avery. “Does he work nearby? Could I go talk to him?”

Rick doesn’t say what’s on his mind, that there’s no way on earth that Randy prays for himself, let alone anybody else, but rather stands and digs into his pocket, pulling out his keys. “Let me tell the others I’m stepping out and you can follow me. Randy works over at the co-op.”

Randy’s on the loading dock when they pull into the parking lot, throwing large bags of grain or seed or cement mix, for all Jen knows, into the back of a pickup truck. He is young, maybe in his mid to late twenties, with a blond crew cut and stout legs. “Rick! My man! What’s up?” Randy watches as Jennifer walks toward him and looks at Avery, staring at him from the back of the car.

“Randy, you and Lane were first responders three years ago when this woman was in a car accident.”

He jumps down from the loading dock, forming a triangle with Rick and Jen.

“You gave my daughter a doll,” Jen says, her breath rising like steam in front of her. His face is blank and Jen talks faster, hoping to jog his memory. “An angel doll. My daughter was in the backseat and I was driving. You prayed for us that night and put a scarf around my neck.”

“I…” Randy looks to Rick and his face is solemn, not knowing what to say.

“I came here to thank you,” Jen says, her voice sounding urgent. “It meant—”

“It wasn’t me,” Randy says, not letting her finish. He looks again at Rick. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’ve never bought a doll in my life or had one with me when I’ve been on duty.” Rick looks at the ground, hoping to find something that will help there.

“But it had to be you. The hospital said you were the first on the scene. You had on a black coat and some sort of high black hat and you gave me your scarf.”

Randy shakes his head, apologetic. “Our coats are yellow.”

“Could have been another motorist,” Rick says. She looks at him. “Our squad might have been first responders but that doesn’t mean we were first on the scene.”

Jen is quiet, searching their faces. “Of course.” She smiles at Randy, moving to wrap her arms around him. “Thank you.” She pulls back and looks at him. “Thank you for everything you did for us that night.” Randy puts his hands into his coat pockets and shuffles his feet. She hugs Rick and says, “Thank you, Rick. Thank all of you for what you do.” The men are embarrassed and Jen moves to her car. “And thank you for helping me today.” She gets behind the wheel and drives through the parking lot.