The Christmas Children (6 page)

When their baths were finished, she gave a blanket to each of the girls and turned on the television hanging on the wall facing Naomi's bed. Julie's tight ringlets only needed to be brushed, but Carissa struggled to comb Lauren's long hair and braid it.

“You stay here until your clothes have dried,” Carissa said. “I'll take these clothes to be washed.” Carissa had a keen sense of smell, and she held her
breath as she picked up the girls' clothes and the soiled sheets and took them to the basement.

Paul had found a checkers set and, while they waited for the clothes to dry, he and Alex were sitting at a small table in the game room shoving the red and black disks across a board. Carissa passed them and peered into the furnace room, admiring the ingenuity of the children in providing for themselves. They'd apparently found two cots, which the girls had occupied, and Alex's bed had been laid on some cushions that Naomi probably used on the porch furniture during the summer. They would have been comfortable enough, but how they expected to spend the winter here, Carissa couldn't comprehend.

“Where are my sisters?” Alex asked.

“Wrapped in blankets, lying on my bed, watching television. A life of ease,” she said, with a grimace in Paul's direction.

The washer was still on but a buzzer indicated that the clothes in the dryer were ready. When Paul started to get up from the checker game, Carissa said, “I'll fold the clothes. Go ahead and play.”

Paul had sorted the clothing by color, so there were three small loads to wash. The poor quality of the worn clothing further attested to the poverty the children had experienced. When the washer finished, Carissa emptied its contents into the dryer and put the remaining clothes and sheets in the washer.

“After Lauren and Julie have dressed, let's go out
side and play in the snow,” she said. “I didn't come to New York to spend my time inside.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Paul said. “We'll be upstairs as soon as the clothes are washed and dry.”

The children's shoes and clothes weren't warm enough for them to stay outside long, but they took a brisk walk along the lakeshore. They even ventured out to one of the fishermen's huts and waited expectantly, but the man didn't catch anything while they watched.

The five of them engaged in a snowball fight, and even though the females outnumbered the males, Alex and Paul were formidable opponents. When Paul tossed a snowball that exploded in Carissa's face, she shouted, “I give up,” and hurried inside the house.

Thinking he might have hurt her, Paul said, “Go ahead and play. I'll see if Carissa is okay.”

Carissa was wiping the snow from her face when Paul entered the kitchen. Her glowing eyes indicated that she was all right, but Paul said solicitously, “I didn't intend such a direct hit. Are you hurt?”

“Nothing except my pride,” she said with a laugh.

“Fortunately this snow is light. It doesn't pack well.”

Carissa looked out the window toward where the children were trying to make a snowman. “They seemed almost happy while we were playing. Paul, I feel so sorry for them, but I'm ill-prepared to deal with three orphan children.”

“You're doing great,” he said reassuringly. “I have a strange feeling about this situation, as if God is giving us an opportunity to help. If He's orchestrating what we're doing, we can't fail.”

P
aul spent the rest of the morning repairing the lock on the rear door. Then, early that afternoon, help arrived in the guise of Belva Townsend, Justin's wife. Belva was stocky of build, and her features were pleasant but not pretty. She had a brusque manner, but five minutes in her presence and Carissa's burden about the children lifted considerably. She didn't know what to do, Belva obviously did.

After Paul introduced Belva and Carissa, Belva said, “I came to have a look at these kids and see what they need.”

“Just about everything,” Paul told her. “They have one pair of well-worn shoes each. And their other clothing is sparse.”

“I'll take them shopping this afternoon,” Carissa said.

“I doubt you'll have to buy anything,” Belva said.
She lined the children up and observed them closely, talking about them as if they weren't present. “My boys have outgrown clothes that I think Alex can wear. And no doubt I can get many things for the girls from my neighbors. We also have a clothing bank at the church. I'll be back this evening with some things. Don't buy anything yet.”

“Say, Belva,” Paul said, “we've been wondering if any Christmas celebrations are planned. Both Carissa and I would like to experience an old-time Christmas again.”

Belva helped herself to one of the cheese cubes left over from lunch. “Yuletide has never revived the large celebrations like we used to have. A few people decorate their homes and lawns, but old-timers, who still remember the past, can't get enthused about celebrating.”

“Seems to me it's time to forget the past,” Paul said.

“You may be right,” Belva agreed. “But don't talk to me—take up your grievances with the town council.”

With a cheery wave of her arm, Belva trotted down the porch steps and was gone. Her visit hadn't lasted fifteen minutes.

“Sorta feel like I've been in a blitzkrieg,” Carissa said with a laugh. However, Belva's matter-of-fact approach to the situation had done a lot to calm her spirits.

“Belva can be a bit abrupt,” Paul agreed. “But she has a heart of gold.”

True to her word, several hours later, Belva returned with fleece-lined parkas, sweatpants and shirts for the children. She brought some books and a doll for Julie. As they looked at the books and modeled their new clothes, the children seemed happy, though occasionally, a bleak expression appeared in Alex's and Lauren's eyes.

Feeling that the children were content in their new surroundings, Paul didn't think it was necessary to guard them, so that night he went to bed in his sister's room.

Long after the household was quiet, bundled in her heaviest garments, Carissa crept down the stairs. She ventured out on the deck that Paul had swept clear of snow, and sat on a bench.

A bright moon hung over the evergreen trees, and a soft breeze wafted from the lake. The night was cold and still. In such a peaceful setting, Carissa should have been as calm as the atmosphere, but her thoughts were rioting.

She had wanted to remember the Christmases of old, but she hadn't expected to be plunged into a roller-coaster return of thoughts of her unhappy childhood. The past few days had awakened recollections of her past that she had tried in vain to forget.

In a large city, her forlorn childhood wouldn't have caused a ripple, but in a town of five hundred
people, no one had any secrets. Except for the members of her grandmother's church, people in town had shunned her. Because her mother had an unsavory reputation, the townspeople had labeled Carissa with the same immoral qualities, expecting her to follow in her mother's footsteps. No decent boy had ever asked her for a date, and only a few girls befriended her—children who were also ostracized for one reason or another. Carissa hadn't been an outgoing child, and she'd made no overtures of friendship to others. She'd feared rejection then, and she still did.

She would have liked to marry and have children, but when she didn't even know who her father was, what kind of heritage would she have passed to her offspring? Any of her mother's partners could have fathered her.

She'd loved her mother devotedly, but after her death, Carissa had learned about her lifestyle and had come to resent her. She blamed her mother for bringing her into the world under such a cloud, and she didn't want children who would someday resent her for passing on a sordid ancestry to them.

She was past child-bearing age now, however, so what harm would there be in finding happiness with a husband? Carissa was a little surprised at herself.

Once she'd made up her mind years ago to remain single, she'd never thought about marriage, so why this sudden remorse that she'd remained single? Could it be the children who'd suddenly come into
her life? Or was it Paul who'd triggered her desire for wedded bliss?

She feared that was the reason. During her youth, she'd missed a father figure in her life. The only close male relative who'd influenced her at all was an uncle. He was kind to her, but he had a houseful of his own kids and didn't have enough time to take Carissa under his wing.

But in those youthful days before she'd decided never to marry, she'd envisioned the kind of man she wanted to marry. Carissa had become an introvert through necessity, so she'd wanted a husband who was a friendly person, one who'd smile often, one with a strong, physical body that belied the tenderness that he exhibited so readily. And she'd wanted a man who would love her without reservation, one who would be able to understand her fears, one whose presence would calm her spirits and stir her emotions. Only a few hours in Paul's presence and she knew he exemplified all the characteristics of her dream man.

She hadn't heard a sound, but suddenly she sensed that she was no longer alone, and knew Paul had joined her. How was it possible to become so quickly attuned to this man that she could actually perceive his presence without seeing or hearing him?

“You couldn't sleep, either?” she asked.

Paul moved forward to stand near Carissa. He'd been watching her for several minutes. He hadn't
made a sound, so he wondered how she could have known he was there.

“No. I'm still having a problem with jet lag.”

He wasn't being exactly truthful, because actually, he'd been thinking about Carissa when he'd heard her come downstairs. After Jennifer Pruett had jilted him twenty years ago, Paul had successfully stifled any interest in women. It wasn't really difficult, for Jennifer had hurt him so badly that he didn't want another woman in his life. Since that time, he'd seldom given any woman a second thought. So what attracted him to Carissa?

Perhaps it was because, in spite of her outward appearance of success, he sensed that Carissa experienced much inner turmoil. Behind her facade of self-assurance, he sensed a little girl's wistfulness in her remote, and sometimes mysterious, smile. He'd been alone for years because he wanted it that way. Carissa was obviously alone, too, but he suspected that her natural tendency was to want people.

She was a small, slender woman with a delicate, fragile body. He could easily span her waist with his hands. But remembering the way she'd flinched when he'd touched her on the shoulder, Paul knew it would be a long time, if ever, before he could put his hands around her waist. And why should he want to?

“I don't even have that excuse,” Carissa commented, turning to face him as he closed the door.

Paul had been so immersed in his thoughts that,
for a moment, he couldn't remember what they were talking about.

“Oh, no jet lag? What's the problem, then?”

“I can't get the kids out of my mind. I want to do right by them, but I'm reluctant to take on this responsibility.”

“Don't you like kids?”

Carissa laughed shortly. Not like kids when she'd recently signed a $200,000 check to help fund a shelter for abandoned children?

“That's hardly the point. I have a soft spot in my heart for children, especially orphaned ones like our three guests, but I'm uncomfortable about bringing them into Naomi's house. Besides, it seems to be the ethical thing to turn them over to the authorities.”

“Well, Justin is working on that. And I'll call Naomi today and clear it with her.”

Paul wore a parka over his pajamas, and his feet were in slippers. He shivered and pulled the parka closer to his body.

“You'll freeze out here with so few clothes on. I'm ready to go in, anyway. Sorry I disturbed your rest. I just had to deal with some of my frustrations,” she said.

“Do you think you'll sleep now?”

“I should be able to,” she said, but Paul was aware of the concern in her eyes. He opened the door and stood aside to let Carissa into the room.

Paul figured she'd take her worries to bed with her. But there was a limit to what he could do, so he
returned to the bedroom and closed the door, as Carissa headed toward the stairs.

 

Carissa and Paul were lingering over their coffee when Justin and Belva came the next morning. The children were still sleeping, so Carissa invited the couple to join them for coffee. Paul got cups while Carissa poured the hot beverage.

Justin said, “I can't turn up a thing on those kids. It's inconceivable in this day of mass communication that three kids can disappear without somebody looking for them.”

“You could put their pictures on the Internet and you'd soon find out who they are and where they came from,” Paul said.

“I know, and I'll probably do that, but we have complications.” He darted a look at his wife, and Carissa had the feeling that Justin was a mite henpecked.

“As you know, Paul,” Justin continued, “Yuletide is a small town and news travels fast. By now, everyone in town knows about these three kids. I've had a half dozen phone calls or so asking me not to relocate the children until after Christmas.”

“Yuletide's citizens are deluding themselves into believing that these children have been sent to us to give us an opportunity to redeem ourselves,” said Belva.

“Maybe it isn't a delusion,” Paul said.

Half annoyed that she couldn't follow the gist of
their conversation, Carissa remembered what Paul had told her two nights ago. “Oh, now I understand. They're tying the present situation to the Christmas Eve tragedy of the past.”

“That's right,” Justin said. “People are begging me not to do anything until after Christmas. The mayor wants the town to adopt them as our special guests for the next few weeks. Even the pastor of Bethel Church stopped by the office last night, suggesting that the children might give us a second chance to show our generosity and faith.”

“But can't you get into a lot of trouble by not trying to find out whose children they are?” Paul asked.

Justin slanted an uneasy look toward his wife, who took a sip of coffee, seemingly oblivious to his gaze.

“But I might get into a lot more trouble if I don't do what the Yuletide citizens want me to do. Besides, I
am
trying to find out who the kids are.”

When Belva didn't comment, Justin asked, “What do the two of you think about it? You're more involved than anyone else.”

Paul's eyes registered concern when he looked at Carissa. He hadn't anticipated spending his vacation in this manner, but he was willing to help out. And what about his visit with Naomi? He wouldn't go to Florida and leave Carissa with the responsibility.

“You'd expect us to be the children's guardians until after Christmas?” he asked Justin.

“Others in town would be willing to give them a
home,” Belva said, “but I'm not sure anyone can take all three of them.”

“Then they'd be separated!” Carissa said. “That's what they were trying to avoid when they ran away.”

She moved from the table to stand in front of the window. Hoarfrost decorated the windowpane in lacy, geometric patterns. Ice fishermen already huddled over holes in the lake. As she watched, one man pulled a foot-long fish from the frigid water.

Carissa saw the scenery, but her thoughts were far removed from the beauty of the winter morning. For years she'd been a heavy contributor to children's charities—but was God now giving her the opportunity to donate hands-on help to children whose needs exceeded hers as a child?

She'd been anticipating two months of inactivity, and deep down in her heart, Carissa didn't want to take on this responsibility. She hadn't been in Yuletide a week, and if she assumed the care of these children until after Christmas, over half of her time there would be gone. And what about her quest for Christmas? She couldn't continue that as long as she was playing mother.

Or was God giving her the opportunity to find Christmas through the three children?

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” The Scripture verse she'd learned as a child flashed into her mind.

Why couldn't she put memories of her childhood behind her? She'd buried her past while she built up
Cara Fashions, so why did her past intrude upon her thoughts now? Obviously, she hadn't dealt with the youthful heartaches she'd experienced, or she would be able to forget them.

“If Paul can get Naomi's okay, I'll look after the kids,” she said, her heart speaking instead of her head. She wasn't sure what she was getting into.

“Good!” Belva said, a full smile lighting her irregular features. “I've already talked with the teachers, and the children will be welcome to come to school.” She stood up. “Come, love,” she said to her husband. “We have lots of things to do. Thanks for the coffee.”

“I still think it's too big a risk for all of us to take,” Paul said, as Justin pushed back from the table. “We don't know that these kids are even telling us the truth. They may have a family looking for them.”

“You don't really believe that, do you?” Justin asked.