Halos (12 page)

She peeked inside. “Didn’t you have anything from last year?”

“Didn’t have a tree last year.”

“So without Diana, there’d be nothing festive?” She elbowed him.

He ducked his head to the side. “Don’t you start too.”

She laughed. “I was so tired from sledding and walking back, I didn’t think I could do anything more. But just looking at this stuff … Can I help you?”

“Help me! You can do it.”

“What fun would that be?” She pulled out a box of lights. “I think these should go on first.”

He took the multicolored strand from the box and plugged it into a wall outlet. The string burst into a brilliant array of ruby, amethyst, topaz, sapphire, and emerald—luminous jewels to bedeck the tapered tips of the valiant fir.

Alessi was enchanted by the colorful glow. “White lights are nice, but these are more fun.”

“Watch this.” He flipped a switch and the string began to dance, the lights blinking individually. “And this.” He switched it again and they ran in a line. “It’s got speeds too.” They ran faster.

“Makes me dizzy, Dave.”

“Yeah.” He flicked it again and they grew still. “I should have just spent four dollars on the plain ones.”

“Well, Diana might like variety. Here you are.” She handed him the end.

Starting at the bottom, he wrapped the tree, and Alessi prepared the next string. “Looks like it plugs right into the last one.” He was ready, so she connected them, and again her palms glowed green and gold and red, warmed by each tiny bulb.

“Why don’t we get a Christmas tree, Mom?”

“Because the trees are so sad to be cut.”

Then, of course, Mom told Hans Christian Andersen’s story of
The Little Fir Tree
. Alessi had tried to be sad for the trees, but she wanted one so much. This tree looked anything but sad as Dave wove back and around with the lights. There had been, of course, the extravagantly beautiful trees Aunt Carrie decorated with glass ornaments from Tiffany’s, 24-carat gold poinsettias, and billows of ribbon.

But those weren’t hers. This tree wasn’t, either, but she could pretend. She dug into the bag and pulled out a deluxe set of fishing lures. “What’s this for?”

“I figured after I took them off the tree, I could fish with ’em. Get double use for the money.”

Alessi looked at the beaded and feathered lures. “That’s great, Dave.”

“You think?” As he poked his head between the branches, the lights framed it in a flamboyant halo no one could miss.

Grinning, Alessi held up a lure by the barbed hook, watched it turn, then hung it upside down on the end of a branch. “You know what I love most about Christmas? The anticipation. Joy and peace and hope renewed.” And she would not let today’s scare change that. So someone had played a joke on her. Maybe the same someone who had her car. Christmas was coming. That baby in the manger awaited a place in her heart, and she’d prepare it.

“Uh-know-whu-yu-min.” Dave had the end of the string between his teeth, circling the top with the last of the lights.

She translated his agreement, then hung a second lure on a branch. “I once heard a pastor say the event happened two thousand years ago and the only reason we celebrate is to remember the price the Savior paid for being born.” She dangled another lure. “But I think Jesus came as much to live for us as to die for us. If His whole purpose was to die, then Herod could have accomplished that with his soldiers long before Pilate with the cross.” She hung the lure beneath a tiny green glow.

Dave tucked the plug end down the back of the tree. “You’ve got a point there.”

“It’s His
life
I think about at Christmas.” She handed Dave a lure. “Jesus died young, but think of how much living He did first!” She glanced up. “Did that sound irreverent?”

“Not at all.” He reached for another lure.

“Part of the reason I can understand His sacrifice is because Mom sacrificed every day for me. Like the times she made dinner when she was too tired to stand, just like Jesus. After tramping around all day, healing and preaching, He still managed to whip up loaves and fishes for five thousand.”

Dave grinned. “Never heard it told quite that way.”

“And when He finally did get to sleep, His friends woke Him up because they were scared.”

Dave chuckled. “Where’d you learn your stories?”

“My mom.” She hooked a blue beaded lure. “Oh, I heard them in sermons and Sunday school, too, but when Mom told them, they came alive.” She sighed. If she could do as well before her time was up, she’d be grateful. “I think joy really is reborn at Christmas, even though it’s hard to find when you’re alone or you miss someone you love.”

She handed him the last lure and watched him tuck it under a red light, then reached into the bag and took out packages of plastic bobbers, the red and white halves seasonally appropriate. “I’m surprised more people haven’t thought of these.” They filled the branches with bobbers. Mom would have liked this tree, even if it was cut. How she would have laughed at the bobbers.

Last of all they added silver tinsel, hanging the strands straight at first, then tossing. She caught Dave’s arm, laughing as the last strands left her fingers. “I can’t thank you enough. That’s the first tree I ever decorated.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

A sudden draft from behind them caused them both to turn around as Steve came in and took in the scene. His scowl drained her joy. She let go of Dave’s arm.

“What do you think?” Dave waved toward the tree.

Steve eyed it. “Going fishing?” He went into his room and closed the door.

Dave stood silent.

She said, “The first holidays are hardest. You remember everything you did together.”

Dave frowned. “Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten it.”

Alessi shook her head. “No, you should.” She pushed her hair back. “May I take a shower?”

“Sure, go ahead. It’s my night to cook. I’ll have something ready when you’re done.”

She had meant to shower and go straight to her room at the store. But dinner would be good. She’d eaten only two of the tuna triangles and one frosted sugar cookie for lunch. She stood in the shower, lathered and rinsed, then toweled dry and dressed.

It took a while to blow her hair, and she hummed “O Christmas Tree” and thought of the lures and bobbers. Dave might have meant it practically, but to her it was magical, something she’d always remember. The whole exercise had rejuvenated her, made her forget her troubles and remember what really mattered.

Steve’s door was open when she stepped out, and she glanced into his room.

“Come in.” He turned from the dresser.

She didn’t want to, but his tone was commanding.

“Here’s a key to the back door of the store. You can let yourself in and out.”

She took the key. “What about the alarm?”

“I won’t arm it while you’re there.”

“Is that safe?” She tucked the key into the pocket of her pants.

“Nothing’s safe with you around.”

His words stung.
“Is nothing safe with you around? Look at this. I paid ninety dollars for this tablecloth.”
Aunt Carrie had been livid, but Alessi never breathed that it was Brittany who’d cut the linen in a snit. No one would have believed her, just as anything she said to Steve would be pointless. She turned before the tears betrayed her, straightened her back, and walked out.

Dave was cooking something that smelled like chili, but she walked out the front door and didn’t look back. She let herself into the store and locked the door behind her. She set the key on the edge of the shelf in the storeroom, then sank to the cot and curled up.

Sixteen

O
UTSIDE HIS ROOM, STEVE DID a quick search to make sure she had left. He went to the refrigerator, poured a glass of milk, and drained it.

“This is about done.” Dave put the lid back onto the pot. “Is Alessi out yet?”

“She’s gone.”

Dave turned. “Gone?”

Steve refilled the glass and set it on the table. “Where’s Ben?”

“With Mary.” Dave spooned two bowls of chili and brought them to the table. He laid out a package of crackers. It would not make meal of the week, but it was hot and Steve was hungry. He’d forgone Cornish hens and hurried back to the cozy little scene he’d walked in on.

Dave took his seat. “Wonder why Alessi left like that. I told her I’d have it ready soon.”

“Three’s a crowd.” Steve picked up his spoon without uttering a blessing.

“I made plenty.”

He blew the steam, then chewed sullenly and swallowed. “Sorry I broke in on you.”

Dave looked up. “What are you talking about?”

“You, arm in arm with Alessi. Her little peck on the cheek.” He had her pegged now. Same ilk as Barb. Never mind that Dave cared for Diana. She’d wheedle in with her innocent eyes and add Dave to her string. She already had Ben, though Mary needed him badly. Steve frowned. She’d almost suckered him, too, with those doe eyes when he’d kissed her.

Dave buried his spoon in his chili. “She’d never decorated a tree before. It got her excited, that’s all.”

“Sure.”

“Well, you didn’t see how big her eyes got when I brought in that bag of lights and trinkets.”

Steve wiped his mouth. “I’m sure she played it just right.”

Dave shook his head. “I don’t get you. Last night you’re fighting
for
her, now you’re against.”

“Not just last night. I spent the whole day trying to find answers. What a waste.” He jammed his spoon in and gulped the bite. He should have gone to the store and worked on inventory. Instead he had tried to verify her story, to whip up support and action on her behalf, to convince himself and everyone else she was telling the truth.

Dave tossed his napkin. “You can’t stand to see her happy, can you? You had to walk in and spoil it. That’s why she left, isn’t it? Now she’s going hungry because you got a grudge that won’t let go.”

“I have no grudge against her.”

“No, just every woman who breathes.”

Steve shoved his bowl away. “That’s not true.”

Dave stood and cleared their bowls. Obviously he’d lost his appetite as well. “You can clean up.” He walked down the hall to his room and shut the door.

Steve scraped and washed the dishes mechanically, trying not to think of Alessi at the store. Had she eaten lunch? Was she going hungry because he’d insulted her? What was it to him if she hung on Dave’s arm?

Or had he misread it? Had it been as Dave said, excitement and happiness? He felt like a fool, a jealous ridiculous kid. If Alessi was a fraud he wanted her unmasked, but Dave’s description of what led to the scene was a little too real. Steve grabbed his coat and went out. The streetlights revealed spheres of swirling snow. They might have half a foot by morning, maybe more. Somewhere a dog barked. Steve’s breath showed white.

He tromped through the clotted snow to the back door of the store and unlocked it with his main key, then pushed it open to find her standing with a document mailer like a baseball bat. “What are you doing?”

She lowered it with a sigh. “I sure didn’t think it was you.” She stood the mailer against the wall.

He eyed her. “Why not?”

She walked away. “I figured you’d drawn enough blood for one night.”

Touché
. He expelled a slow breath and stepped inside.

She turned. “I know this is your storeroom, but I’d appreciate some privacy while I’m in it.”

He stopped. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said what I did, and I think you should come back and eat.” He closed the door behind him.

“No thanks.” She sat down on the cot.

It
was
his storeroom, but he felt an invisible barrier keeping him next to the door. It was probably just as well, because he wanted to yank her up and repeat last night’s folly. “I thought you were playing Dave. It reminded me of … someone.”

She shook her head with a roll of her eyes.

“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

“Why not?” She looked at him. “You’ve made up your mind from the start.”

“Alessi …”

“Look, I’ll have to work with you tomorrow, and I need to build up my resistance.”

“Ouch.” He’d never had anyone put it so brutally, though plenty had probably thought it.

She drew her knees up.

“I admit I was a jerk. But can’t you come back to the house and have some food?”

She dropped her face into her hands, and he sank lower in the mire. He didn’t want to believe she was as innocent as she made out, but his intuition kept buying in. “I promise not to draw blood. I won’t even show my fangs.”

She glanced up over her fingertips. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you were right. I had no business coming off that way.”

She wrapped her knees in her arms. “Anyway, I’m not hungry. I’m not just saying that either.”

“You don’t want to spend the whole evening in the storeroom.” He leaned on the door.

She shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“We’re watching
It’s a Wonderful Life
. Starts in twenty minutes.”

She looked up. “You and Dave and Ben are watching
It’s a Wonderful Life
?”

“Ben’s still at Mary’s. I doubt Dave’ll come out of his room unless I bring you back.”

“Is that why you came? For Dave?”

It had sounded that way, but it wasn’t. “I came because I was wrong. Now, the sermon today suggests you should forgive me. Even a repeat offender.”

She formed a halfhearted smile—it was small but there nonetheless. “All right.”

His chest eased as he stepped closer and held out his hand, doubtful he would have responded as well with the positions reversed. But she took it, and he made a quick exit with her in tow. He would be civil and kind for the time remaining until Christmas. Friendly. He could manage that.

They got back to the house, and he nodded his head toward the back hall. “Tell Dave you’re back. He’ll join us.” Steve hoped so, at least. An evening alone with her, watching a heartwarming tale he and his father had loved, would not be wise. He heard her tap on Dave’s door, and Dave’s response. Yes, it was eager and glad, but nothing more.

It was his mind that had made the leap to something improper, not Dave’s or Alessi’s actions.

Maybe Dave was right. Maybe he did have a grudge—or a definite bias. Barb had set him up. And his mother before her. His dad hadn’t allowed bitterness in, but Steve seemed to have. Maybe because his father was gone. He sighed, relieved when Alessi returned with Dave.

Dave padded forward. “You want some chili? I can heat it up.”

“No thanks.” Alessi smiled for real at him. “I’m not hungry.”

Steve let Dave have the couch with Alessi. He took the chair across from them and stole glances throughout the movie. A few of them she met, but mostly her attention stayed glued to Jimmy Stewart and his plight.

“He doesn’t see how much the little things matter.” She wove her long fingers around one knee, a pose completely suited to her shape.

Steve fixed his attention on the screen. “People usually don’t.”

“Unless it’s all little things.”

He didn’t ask what she meant. He guessed. Once life was reduced to the most basic elements, as hers was currently, everything mattered. Maybe that’s why his remarks hurt her. She didn’t have much to fall back on. He felt bad again. He hadn’t been so convicted in a long time. First the day’s sermon, then Dave’s grudge comment, then Alessi’s:
“I need to build up my resistance.”
It was definitely time to look inside and clean house.

His father used to remind him to “dust the cobwebs off his conscience.” A serious pang seized Steve’s chest. Christmas without his father was too hard. If Alessi hadn’t come and thrown everything off kilter, he’d be depressed.

“Zuzu’s petals! Zuzu’s petals!”
Jimmy Stewart ran to his home and found his family and his neighbors and all the people whose lives he’d touched.

Steve wanted his life to matter. Closed up with his father’s books, he’d done the least interacting he could get away with. Unlike his dad, who always had a kind word, a helpful hand for his neighbors—even the women who stalked him with casseroles. He watched Jimmy Stewart take his little girl into his arms and felt the sting of tears. Dad had always teared up at the end of that movie. Because Jimmy was reunited with his wife? Or just because goodness prevailed?

“Atta boy, Clarence.”

Steve swallowed the tears back with a vengeance. Alone with his dad it hadn’t mattered. But across from Dave and Alessi it sure did. He risked a glance. Alessi’s eyes were more than moist.

She sighed. “I love that story.”

She would, with her penchant for halos and angels watching over.

Dave rose and shut off the TV. “Well, I’m turning in.” He yawned hugely.

Alessi stood and stretched. “Guess I’ll go back now.”

“I’ll walk you.” Steve stood up.

She didn’t argue. Jimmy’s wonderful life had mellowed her. They walked together across the street and down to the store, stopping outside the back door.

He leaned on one arm against the wall. “Will you be all right?”

She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

He bent and kissed her cheek. “Good night.”

She stood there speechless as he turned back toward the house. He’d done it again. But this time he didn’t kick himself.