Rachel Van Dyken (13 page)

****

Upstairs, the smell of bacon was tantalizing poor David. He was too weak to walk down the stairs under his own power, or he would have already had three or four helpings by now. It was torture to have to wait it out.

The tromping on the stairs sounded like Blaine. A light knock, and Blaine poked his head around the door. “Hey, Pop.” The cheery tone in his son’s voice brought a smile to David’s lips.

“Good morning,
s
on.”

“That bacon sure smells good, doesn’t it? I figured you’d be half crazed with hunger by now.”

“Almost am. If I had legs under me, I would’ve already been down there fighting you for the last piece.”

“Would you like to join us downstairs this morning then?”

David couldn’t help
his wide
grin. “You bet I would!” The idea of getting out of his prison-like room for a bit sounded like heaven on earth, though the irony of that comparison was not lost on him.

In the last month, he had gone from being able to walk down the driveway and back to moving only the distance from one room to the next to not having the strength to stand on his own. He knew his time was short. Today, for some strange reason, he seemed to have more energy. Ordinarily, the brief exchange he had just had would have worn him out.

Perhaps it was the anticipation of Christmas Eve breakfast, the sweet fragrance of Emily’s bacon floating through the house.

As Blaine lifted him carefully, David felt a rush of shame in his own weakness. It had been the most difficult thing about his illness. The blow to his pride in the loss of his physical independence was humiliating, but his son’s strength, and his willingness to lend it to his father, bolstered David’s spirit. It reminded him of what God did for him on a daily basis.
When we are weak, He is strong
, he thought.
David
was only sorry he’d had to learn that lesson the hard way.

“You’re looking well this morning, Mr. Graham,” Mara chirped as they entered the kitchen. “Your color is good. How are you feeling?” He smiled weakly in response. She set down her spatula and wiped her hands on her apron. “I fixed up a nice place for you here in the corner. Breakfast will be on the table
shortly
.”

His son set him gingerly on the chair and proceeded to tuck his blankets around him. “How’s that, Pop?” he asked.

David nodded. “Fine,” he wheezed. His lungs were hurting again, and his hand went involuntarily to his chest.

Blaine stepped to the counter to fill a plate for him. His nearness seemed to
have an effect on Mara, who appear
ed flustered by it. She picked up her spatula again and David could see her shoulders rise and fall in shallow breaths. The sight made his lungs hurt even more.

His son seemed to be taking his time making the plate too, casting nervous glances at the girl between each spoonful of eggs. A sudden
vision
of a
church picnic long ago flickered in his memory. He remembered those looks, the nervous tension between them. He missed Emily, but soon he’d be with her again. It wouldn’t be long. David could feel her nearness even now.

He cleared his throat to get their attention. By the way they both jumped, they had forgotten he was in the room. “I don’t eat as much as I used to.” He raised a spindly finger to gesture at the plate his son held. “Half of that is plenty.”

The young man looked at the plate. A light
cloud
of pink
tint
ed his cheeks. “Sorry, Pop. Guess I was thinking about how hungry
I
was.” He set the plate down and gra
bbed another to fill, but Mara snatched it out of his grasp.

“I’ll do this, you just go sit down.”

David had to chuckle at her reaction. He’d never seen her like this before.

They were uncomfortably silent as they ate, but David didn’t try to make conversation.
It was all he could manage just
to eat, knowing for certain this would be his last Christmas Eve. His energy was draining from him, but he wanted nothing more than to enjoy the day to the fullest.

When Emily was alive, the day was
filled with laughter and family moments. Her favorite part had always been reading the Christmas story together right before putting Blaine to bed, then they would pull the presents out of their hiding place in the attic and tuck them under the tree. Afterward, David would build a fire in the fireplace, and he and Emily would settle in
to
gether on
the sofa, listening
to Christmas carols on the Victrola
until late in the night.

He closed his eyes to savor the memory, forgetting about the other two people in the room. Mara’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Are you all right, Mr. Graham?”

His eyes opened slowly
, and he inclined his head to Mara with a wistful smile. “Just remembering Emily.”

“Hey, Pop, how about a Christmas Eve the way we used to do it? I’ll crawl up in the attic and pull out all of Mom’s ornaments, and we’ll decorate the tree. We can read the Christmas story and listen to carols on the phonograph.”

A thrill went through David’s frail limbs. He nodd
ed
his approval
. It was a joy to him that Blaine still remembered the traditions after all these years. The past mistakes stung him now – the way he had sought to protect Blaine from the pain of missing his mother by veiling the memories of her. He hadn’t let them celebrate Christmas the old way because he was certain it would be too painful for both of them. What a fool he had been. He had stolen years of peace from himself and from his son.

The threat of unshed tears stung his eyes. Mara reached over and patted his hand.

“I’ll make up a bed on the sofa for you. You can stay down here today, if you like.”

“I’d like that,” he breathed.

By the time Blaine had resurrected all of the old Christmas ornaments, Mara was already working on Christmas dinner. She wanted it to be perfect. David had mentioned earlier that his desire was to have a Christmas ham.

Mara’s own family had had a similar tradition, so making the ham wouldn’t be the hard part. No, the difficulty would lie in the fact that after setting up the decorations, Blaine wanted to help her bake.

Blaine, of all people. To make matters worse, the kitchen was already sweltering from the heat of the stove. Mara was sweating even without being exposed to the full force of Blaine’
s charms.

She was praying for strength under her breath when Blaine barged into the kitchen.

“I’m all yours!” he announced, then blushed, obviously realizing the double meaning.

Mara laughed nervously and handed him a
frilly pink
apron.

“I’m not wearing that.”
He furrowed his brow and shook his head adamantly.

“You’ll get dirty.”

“I’ll
take my chances
.” He winked and set the apron on the counter folding his hands over it and leaning towards her. “Pop’s in the living room having a nap. I told him I’d help you with dinner before we
decorated
the tree.”

Mara swallowed, it was the only option given the circumstances. She seemed to have lost her voice. Staring at Blaine wasn’t helping matters.

“Well, you can start on the potatoes, and I’ll put the ham in. After the potatoes, all we need to do is make stuffing and the pumpkin pie.”

“Roger…” Blaine saluted, marched to the
sink and picked up the peeler.

The room hummed with excitement. Why hadn’t David built a kitchen large enough to accommodate more than one cook? It seemed every time Mara had to grab something, Blaine was there brushing up against her. At one point she
almost
dropped a knife on his foot. It would serve him right for being so… so—

“Mara?” Blaine’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?” She turned. The sound of her first name on his lips always made her heart leap. Would she ever get used to it?

“I think the water’s boiling over.”

Panicked, Mara spun around and took in the scene before her. Water boiled over the edges of the pot.
Grabbing
a
potholder
, she
jerked it off the burner. “I believe the water is ready for the potatoes.” She offered a
humble
grin to Blaine
,
as he reached for the potatoes and carefully dropped them into the pot.

“Pie?”
h
e asked when he was finished cleaning up the peels.

“Yes, of course, I
…
” Mara
’
s eyes
hast
ily scanned the counter for the ingredients.

“Mara?” Blaine interrupted again.

“Yes?” She refused to look at him.

“Sit down.”

“No, just let me.
.
.”

“Sit down.” His hands came around her shoulders as he guided her to the nearest seat. He then began searching cupboards until he had the ingredients for the pumpkin pie. After setting everything out
,
he pulled out a tea kettle and set it on the stove. “I want you to relax
.
Y
ou’ve done so m
uch, why don’t you go check on P
op while I finish up in here? We’ll decorate in a few minutes.”

Mara
felt the tension melt from her shoulders as she sauntered out of the kitchen
. Thank God for small favors. She
found herself
able to breath
e
again once she was in the living room next to the tree. And then her treacherous mind
went
back to when they hunted that same tree
,
and Blaine almost kissed her.

“Ahem
,
” David cleared his throat.

“Oh
,
you’re up!”

His eyes twinkled
.
“What are you thinking about
,
dear girl?”

“Trees,” s
he answered
.
“Christmas trees and decorations
.
D
o you want to help me get them out?”

David smiled
.
“I was thinking
about
the same thing
.
D
id you know that Emily used to decorate the tree with such care that I never wanted to take it down?”

Mara smiled as she brought the
box of
ornaments to where David sat.

“Let’s decorate it for her then…”

The old man
’
s eyes filled with tears
.
T
urning away
,
he wiped at them before pulling out a hanky and blowing his nose. “Yes, I think that would be nice.”

“Ready to decorate?” Blaine asked carrying more tea and hot chocolate into the room. He was a good host when he put his mind to it.

David looked up at his son
.
“We’re dedicating this tree to your mother.”

Mara wasn’t sure if Blaine was going to be angry
;
his wounds were still fresh
,
and she knew he still strugg
led
with the concept of loss.

Leaning down on one knee so he was eye level with his dad
,
Blaine answered
,
“I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”
He rummaged through the ornament box to retrieve the first ornament.

David
rested
his hand on Blaine
’
s shoulder
.
“It was Mara
’
s idea.”

Suddenly Blaine
’
s warm gaze was on Mara. She couldn’t tear her eyes away
,
even if she wanted to. “Then let’s dedicate it to
M
om and Mara, two of the most beautiful women, inside and out
.
”
The words seemed to take even him by surprise and he
glanc
ed away from her.

Mara couldn’t even blush. There was nothing shameful about being compared to his deceased mother. Instead, she felt proud. Proud that these two men
would hold her in such high esteem.

She cleared her throat
.
“I’m honored.”

David watched
tenderly
and told stories as
the two of them hung the
ornaments
on
the tree
all afternoon
. More than once Blaine
’
s fingers brush
ed
Mara
’
s, but she was
growing
more and mor
e comfortable with the prospect.

Once they were finished decorating, dinner was
almost
ready. Mara excused herself to
change
. Donning her favorite green dress and pearl earrings
– the pair her grandmother had given her for her wedding –
she
stepped out of her
room ready to serve the gentleme
n.

Her eye caught something dark
trudging up the stairs
. Turning
,
she saw Blaine walking towards her
,
d
ressed in
his suit and looking sheepish and uncomfortable.

“M
ay I escort you to dinner?”

Feeling her face
grow
hot
,
she broke eye contact and nodded
. “That would be lovely
, thank you.”

“Pop
’
s already
at the table and
says if we don’t hurry
,
he’s going to eat all the ham.”

“H
e
’d
better not!” Mara interjected
.
“I worked hard on that
h
am!”

“Easy,” Blaine
’
s grip on her elbow tightened
as he guided her down the stairs and through the living room.
“I set him as far away as possible, but we both know what happens when that man sees food.”

They shared an easy laugh and entered the kitchen. As predicted
,
David was using the end of the broom to try to pull the ham closer.

“Caught red
-
handed!” Mara announced.

“I was just…” David looked at the broom in his hand
.
“Sweeping
.
”

“You were sweeping the table? With the wrong side of the broom?” Blaine accused.

“Yes.” David chuckled heartily.

“Shall we
say the blessing
?” Mara offered
,
taking her seat across from David.

His
frail
hands enveloped hers as he reached across the table. Warmth radiated from his fingers making Mara feel relaxed, almost at home.

“Let
’
s pray,” David began
.
“
D
ear Father, thank you for
y
our provision, for your love and forgiveness.
May we
remember to always trust in you. Amen.”

Mara didn’t want to admit she was near crying by the time the simple prayer was done. Evening had fallen and with it a sickening feeling that time was running out with David. His skin had taken on a translucent look and
the
usual confidence was absent from his voice. Mara wondered to herself why it felt
like
she was losing a parent rather than a patient.

“Mara?” Blaine was asking her a question.

“Yes?”

Blaine looked at David then back at her
.
“
T
his ha
s to be the best ham I’ve
h
a
d
in a long time.
I
t tastes exactly
the way
M
om
’s
used to
be
.”

She felt herself redden
.
“I
,
uh, found her recipe
.
I hope you two don’t mind
.
I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Both men nodded in approval and continued shoveling food into their mouths like they hadn’t eaten in years. It did her heart proud to see both of them bonding over
the
meal.

By the time they were finished eating
,
she was stuffed. The food was promptly cleared from the table while they moved into the living room for the reading of the Christmas
s
tory from
the Book of
Luke. Mara brought out
tea
and pie
,
and then
sat next to the tree on the floor while she
w
atched David thumb through the Bible.

“During the reign of C
a
esar Augustus….”

David
’
s voice continued to shake
;
it was obvious to Mara that he was trying not to have a coughing fit in the middle of the reading, but halfway through he had to stop.

“Son?” David looked to Blaine
.
“Will you finish the story?”

Why did everything seem
to hold
a double meaning
for
Mara? As if Blaine
truly
was
picking up where his father had left off in the home, like the passing of the torch.

Blaine took the old book from his father
’
s hands and continued. His strong voice was so calming to Mara
,
she was afraid she would fall asleep.

When the story was over, Blaine stood and
laid
a record gingerly on his father’s old Victrola. As
Silent Night
drifted softly through the room, David leaned his head against the back
of the sofa and closed his eyes
in deep contentment
.