Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) (48 page)

The
soft
sounds
of
violins
playing
Away
in
a
Manger
greeted
her—but
seconds
later,
she
heard
Luke’s
quiet
voice
reading
Luke
chapter
two.
“…but
Mary
treasured
all
these
things,
pondering
them
in
her
heart
…
”

A
lump
swelled
in
her
throat.
She
was
not
like
another
Mary
that
day—no,
Martha
had
somehow
possessed
her
until
all
she
could
do
was
run
to
and
fro,
busy
with
things
that
did
not
truly
matter.
Luke
had
the
right
emphasis.
He
knew
what
was
important
and
what
wasn’t.

The
picture
was
almost
surreal
,
as
if
out
of
a
movie
set.
The
music
could
not
have
played
a
more
perfect
song,
and
the
children
seated
around
his
chair,
hanging
over
the
back,
starry-eyed
and
looking
particularly
innocent
and
charming
in
their
pajamas—it
was
almost
as
if
Christmas
Eve
had
arrived
two
weeks
early.

“Aunt
Aggie!”
Kenzie
rushed
her,
flinging
arms
around
her.
“Did
you
find
them?
Where
are
the
ornaments?”

“I’m
sorry,
I
didn’t.
I’ll
have
to
try
tomorrow.
I’m
so
sorry.”

The
children
all
said
the
right
things.
It
didn’t
matter;
they
were
happy;
it
was
a
great
birthday
for
Ellie
and
Tavish
and
that’s
what
mattered.
However,
their
faces
told
the
true
story.
They
were
disappointed.
She’d
have
to
try
again.

Tina
breezed
in
the
door
and
surveyed
the
family.
“What
is
everyone
doing
up
this
late.
Scurry
off
to
bed.
Go.
I’ll
be
up
to
tuck
you
in—”

She
never
had
the
chance
to
finish.
Vannie
fled
upstairs,
tears
flooding
her
eyes
and
cheeks.
Ellie
followed.
Laird,
shook
his
head
and
choked
out,
“Girls,”
before
he
too
pounded
up
the
stairs.
Tavish
shrugged
and
grabbed
Kenzie’s
hand
as
the
girl
picked
up
on
the
wave
of
emotion
that
seemed
to
flow
over
everyone.
Cari
and
Lorna
exchanged
glances
and
their
subsequent
wails
were
loud
enough
to
stir
Ian
who
had
been
sleeping
on
Luke’s
chest.

Aggie
sat
on
the
arm
of
the
couch
and
closed
her
eyes,
begging
the
Lord
for
patience
and
wisdom—not
to
mention
a
healthy
dose
of
self-control.
Her
own
emotions
were
nearly
ready
to
choke
her
to
death.
Tina
glanced
around
once
more
and
went
into
action.
“I’ve
got
this.”

As
Luke
soothed
the
baby
back
to
sleep,
he
stood.
His
hand
squeezed
her
shoulder
in passing
.
“It’ll
be
ok,”
he
whispered.

His
feet
disappeared
up
the
stairs
at
precisely
the
moment
she
realized
that
she
hated
that
phrase.
People
said
everything
would
be
ok,
but
it
never
was.
Never.
Every
time
some
old
problem
was
resolved,
a
new
one
arose.
Her
life
was
one
series
of
crises
and
solutions
to
slide
her
into
a
new
crisis.