The True Gift (2 page)

“A coffee mug,” she says, making Mama laugh.

A Christmas tree stands between the dining room and living room, waiting for us to decorate it. It has only little white lights on it now. The white lights could be stars in a winter sky. I steal a look at Liam, and he is staring at his pie. I know him. He will think and think and think about White Cow alone in the meadow. Those thoughts of his will flow out like smoke, surrounding us all. He will spoil our vacation. I know this.

I kick him under the table, and he looks up, startled.

He smiles. “Pie!” he says too cheerfully.

I know Liam. Liam is not thinking about pie.

Dinner is over. Mama and Papa are getting ready to drive home.

“We'll be back Christmas Day,” says Mama. “Don't let them get away with any more than I do,” she says to Gran. “I wish we could stay.”

Gran smiles. She likes this time with us as much as we like being alone with her and Grandpa in the house.

“Where's Liam?” asks Mama.

We look around.

Suddenly, I know where Liam is. I know
where Liam always is when we visit Grandpa and Gran.

“I'll find him,” I say.

I take my coat from a hook by the door and go outside to the porch. It has snowed more since we first got here, and I can see Liam's footprints in the snow down the sidewalk. I follow them to the driveway, then across to the paddock gate. There is a slice of moon above. And then I see Liam, standing just inside the fence next to White Cow. Some of the moonlight falls on White Cow, making her look like a marble statue. She looks at me as I walk up to the fence.

Liam turns and looks at me too. “She's lonely,” he says.

“She's a cow,” I say. “Cows don't care.”

Liam turns back to White Cow. He strokes her side, then he turns and opens the gate. He walks past me up to the house.

White Cow stares at me.

“You're a cow,” I whisper to her. “Just a cow.”

Mama and Papa have gone. It is quiet in the house.

My bedroom overlooks the short dirt road that winds down to the town with its two markets and the elementary school, the post office and the lilac library. Liam's bedroom overlooks the meadow, the big barn, and White Cow.

The moon is higher when I walk into
Liam's room. Liam is looking out at the meadow. Snow has dusted everything, and the moon outlines trees and bushes and the shining brook that runs through the fields.

“Liam?” I say softly.

He turns. “What?”

“You know what, Liam? We're going to take walks and read books and shop for Christmas gifts for everyone and help Grandpa and Gran and go to the library. We're going to have fun! Right?”

Liam looks at me steadily, the same look he had when he was four years old, trying to figure out how to read.

“Right,” he says. He turns back to look out over the meadow.

“And feed White Cow,” he adds. “I always feed White Cow. And Rosie, when she was here.”

“Liam?”

I speak more softly because I've hurt his feelings.

“What?”

“You are a worrier.”

Liam turns to look at me. “So are you.”

“White Cow is fine. She is happy in the field and the barn,” I say.

“Maybe,” says Liam.

Then he turns to take his books out of his book bags and stack them, one by one by one, on bookshelves by his bed.

“Maybe,” he repeats.

* * *

In the morning there is sun. It pours in my window, tumbling across the quilt. I can smell coffee and breakfast downstairs.

Gran and Grandpa are at the kitchen table.

“Morning, Lily,” says Gran. “There is juice and fresh muffins.”

“Good morning. Where's Liam?”

“He's in my study,” says Grandpa. “I have to go to work now. There must be some news somewhere to print.” Grandpa works at the newspaper in town.

He kisses the top of my head. “Want to come to work with me, Lambie?”

Grandpa is the only person in the world who calls me Lambie.

“I am going to walk to town later,” I say “Liam will come too.”

“He's pretty busy in there, Lily,” says Gran. “You may never dig him out.”

Liam is surrounded by Grandpa's books and papers. He stares at a large book open in front of him.

“What are you doing?” My voice seems loud in the quiet room.

Liam jumps and closes the book with a thump. “Nothing.”

I know that tone. I know Liam.

“Show me,” I say. “You might as well show me.”

“You won't like it.”

“I know I won't. Show me.”

I pull up a chair and sit close to him.

Liam sighs and opens the book. He thumbs through the pages and then stops.

And there it is. I lean over and read.

Cows are social beings. Cows have feelings.
They have been known to bear grudges.
They live in families and are capable of
grief loss, and loneliness.

I look at Liam.

“There's more,” he says.

I shake my head. I reach over and close the book.

“I have to do something about White Cow,” says Liam.

I am suddenly so angry that I can hardly think of what words to say.

“You dumb boy!” I say. “You are so . . . dumb! I was right. You will spoil Christmas. It will be all your fault.”

Liam gives me that steady look. “I have to do something,” he says again. “You can blame me. You can blame White Cow if you want.”

Liam opens the book again, ignoring me.

I feel surprising tears in my eyes.

Liam pays no attention to me.

Liam reads some more. Then he looks at me.

“I think we should walk to town,” he says.

“Why?” I say.

“Because that is what we do when we come here at Christmas,” he says.

I can't think of anything to say.

We put on our coats and hats and mittens in the warm kitchen.

“We're going to see White Cow first,” Liam tells Gran.

“I thought you probably would,” she says. She hands me some money. “This is for butter at the market. And these letters are to be mailed.”

Outside it is cold and bright. It feels like
frost on my nose. We walk down the length of the fence, looking for White Cow.

“She's not in the meadow,” says Liam. His breath comes out in puffs in the winter air.

We open the gate and walk through the snow-covered grass to the barn.

The barn is old and smells like hay and the winter breath of all the animals that have lived there. We stop as we enter, both of us, because it is huge. The roof is so high, it reminds me of the picture of a cathedral I once saw in a book. There are stalls and many bales of hay and barrels with covers that hold grain. Parts of the floor are old wood, and our boots slip on the smoothness. Slices of light from the windows fall across the wood.

“White Cow!” calls Liam suddenly.

There is a shuffle of noise at the far end of the barn, and White Cow walks out of a stall. She slowly walks toward us. She stops. She is so big and white.

Liam talks to her in his soft voice. “Poor girl. Good girl. Come, girl.”

White Cow comes close and suddenly leans against Liam. He is almost knocked off his feet by this affection. But he doesn't fall.

My heart beats faster.

“Lily?” His voice comes from somewhere behind White Cow.

“You're scared,” he says. “She's just big. She can't help it.”

Scared? Am I? Am I scared?

“Come closer, Lily.”

I walk closer and reach out a hand and stroke her long white side.
She is warm.
She turns to look at me for a moment, and I am surprised by her eyes.

We stay with White Cow a long time in the sweet-smelling barn. And when we finally walk to the barn door so we can go to town, White Cow follows us, standing in the doorway. More than once we turn, walking backward, and see White Cow watching us from the barn, the doorway framing her like a picture frame.

We are mostly silent as we walk down the road, down the hill, past several houses that are scattered along the way, past a field bordered by red barberry bushes.

“I was right,” I say softly. “Nothing is the same now.”

Liam doesn't answer me.

“Nothing.”

Liam still doesn't speak.

“How did you know I was scared of White Cow?” I ask finally.

I turn to look at him.

“I just knew. You don't know her the way I do,” he says.

We walk quietly. The fields are snow coated; the only green, the spruces and
white pines in the fields. The sky is gray.

“We have to buy a cow,” says Liam as we come to the center of town.

I stop walking, but Liam walks on.

“You can't do that! You're just a kid.”

A girl on a horse comes up the hill, the horse peering closely at me, its hooves quiet on the snow-covered road.

I run to catch up with Liam. We walk together, not speaking.

I take a breath and know that I'll be sorry that I ask the question I'm going to ask.

“How can we buy a cow?”

Liam turns and grins brightly at me. “I don't know,” he says. “But we will.”