Miracles Retold Read online

  Miracles Retold

  Miracles Retold

  Midpoint

  Miracles Retold

  by Holly Ambrose

  © Holly Ambrose 2014. All rights reserved.

  Cover image ©iStock.com/EM_prize

  For all my grandmothers, and for grandmothers everywhere

  “Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.” — C.S. Lewis

  The Problem with Christmas Spirit

  The snowball hit Annie in the back of the head, bounced off her limp brown hair and rolled down the driveway toward the street.

  “Boys!” Annie said, “Those foam balls are for Carter’s school project. If you ruin or lose them, I’m not buying more!”

  Thank goodness it wasn’t a real snowball that left ice in her hair, Annie thought. It was a few weeks before Christmas, but they never had snow where they lived in Florida. Winter usually brought crisp, clear days — but so far, it was still rainy and humid.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” said Carter, the youngest. He picked up the ball from the ground. “Ryder threw it at me first and I untorturously missed him.”

  “Just getting you back for what you did to me yesterday,” Ryder said with a gratified grin.

  “Brothers,” muttered Hannah, the oldest.

  The four of them gathered their belongings from the SUV and headed to their front door.

  “Please,” Annie said, “Let’s just get inside and do what we have to do. You all have school work, and my to-do list is as long as a drugstore receipt.”

  “Your to-do list is always long,” Hannah said.

  “Why do you say that all the time?” Ryder asked Annie.

  “Because it’s true,” Annie said simply. “A mother’s work is never done.”

  Annie mentally ran down her list of obligations: check kids’ school work, serve dinner, make kids’ lunches for the next day, check work e-mail and arrange some meetings, look for a missing library book, put away the clean laundry and start working on holiday cards. She needed to make sure she had snacks for Ryder’s soccer practice. She also wanted to make a list of gifts she still had to buy (she didn’t know what to give her husband, Lon), and look up a few things online. Nearly the same list as last night. And pretty similar to the list she would have tomorrow.

  “Hello,” Grace called to them cheerily when they entered the house. Grace was Lon’s mother, and she had lived with the family for five months, since she’d had a stroke. Thankfully, Grace could walk, but she moved slowly and had trouble with her left arm.

  “Hi, Grandma!” the kids said when they got in. The family cat, Angel, had been sitting by the door — always eager to dart outside at the first chance — but instead jumped out of the way to avoid being hit by a flung backpack.

  Carter rushed to give Grace a hug. “How many days until Christmas?” she asked him.

  “Fifteen,” Ryder said before dashing to the room they shared.

  “She asked me, not you!” Carter yelled after him. “I knew what the answer was. I can count too!”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Grace said. “I know you can. How was your day, Annie?”

  Annie smiled, but her gray eyes didn’t. She hesitated before answering. “You keep reminding me to think positively,” she said. “So, with that in mind, best day ever.” She headed to the kitchen.

  “Uh-oh,” Grace said, giving Carter a pat. “Time to get dinner going.” He scampered off, and Grace ambled over to the kitchen to help Annie get food together — whatever Grace could do with her good arm.

  “People could save so much time if they just didn’t have to eat,” Annie said, pulling cans out of a cabinet. “Just one more thing to do.”

  “Dinner brings everyone together,” Grace countered. “I’ve heard lots of families don’t even eat dinner together anymore.” She shook her head. “I’m on the computer, you know. The Internet. I visit sites. And it’s amazing what you can find on YouTube.”

  “You watch YouTube, Grandma?” Hannah asked. She had just come in to the room to set out supplies for a diorama project for school. Angel the cat came over to the kitchen bar to inspect and sat on a stack of paper Hannah had placed nearby.

  Grace waved her hand and walked over to Hannah. “Most of it is junk. You are probably old enough to know not to watch the garbage, right, Hannah?” Grace kissed Hannah on her forehead. “Don’t watch the junk. Only the good stuff.”

  Then to no one in particular, Grace said, “The world needs more good stuff.”

  “I need more good stuff,” Annie said. She put a dish in the microwave. “All this extra holiday prep and end-of-the-year tasks just add stress. It kind of takes the joy out of the holidays.”

  “But Christmas is so fun, Mom!” Hannah said, adjusting a paper gorilla in her diorama.

  Carter came into the kitchen and petted Angel next to Hannah.

  “Christmas day is fun,” Annie said. “But there’s extra work for me at my job this time of the year. Getting ready for Christmas means shopping for presents, mailing cards, parties, and decorating — in addition to everything we already do.” Annie sighed and looked down. “Then we just try to get some sleep to do it all again the next day. I just wish I had five more hours in my day. But unfortunately, there are no more miracles in our world.”

  Carter looked up. “No more miracles?!” he said. “Mom, you told me miracles are everywhere.” He pursed his lips together and squinted.

  Grace gave Annie’s arm a squeeze. “You’re tired,” Grace said, “and I wish I could do more to help.”

  “I can help,” Carter said. “I’m hungry! I can cook. We made pretzel snacks at school.”

  “You do help,” Annie said to Grace, trying not to let her youngest get her sidetracked. “You have come a long way with physical therapy and your walks around the block. I’m not complaining about you, or anyone. I just have too much going on right now.”

  “Go back to my advice,” Grace continued to Annie. “Think positively! The extra work will only get to you if you let it.”

  “You’re right,” Annie said, massaging her forehead. “You’re right. I just need to … remember the reason for the season. And yes, I’m tired.”

  Annie remembered not being tired. Way, way, back, there was a time when she was … fun. Was that the right word? There was definitely a memory there of being fun and having fun. The memory was hazy and nonspecific, though — like the faded scent of cheap cologne clinging to clothes the day after wearing them.

  At the sink, Annie washed her hands while she listened to Grace directing Carter in setting condiments on the table and to Hannah singing the chorus of a pop song Annie didn’t know. Her fingers rubbed the sapphire ring on her left hand, passed down from her mother’s mother before she died. The sapphire ring rested in place of Annie’s wedding and engagement rings, which had been lost when she was pregnant with Carter. Annie still winced whenever she thought about how she had taken off the gold and diamond rings Lon had given her because her fingers were becoming too swollen in late pregnancy, and the jewelry had gotten misplaced. Annie didn’t realize the rings were lost until after Carter was born. She and Lon looked for them off and on for months, but taking care of the children eclipsed the effort to find the jewelry. One day, Annie decided to slip her grandmother’s sapphire on her ring finger, an acknowledgement that she had given up on finding Lon’s rings. Neither she nor Lon had talked about the missing jewelry again.

  Annie thought back to when she had first seen the engagement ring, when Lon asked her to marry him. They had spent the day together, then gone to the beach in the afternoon. Annie remembered how the sunshine brought out the gold in Lon’s hazel eyes so
that they seemed to glow. Annie and Lon sat on the sand to watch the sun set. After the sun disappeared beyond the gulf, Lon took her hand and kissed her. He slipped the white gold and diamond ring on her finger and simply said, “Marry me.” (Lon’s version of the story was that he was too nervous to say anything at all.) Annie was dazzled by the ring, but even more overcome by love for Lon.

  Now the rings were gone, but she still had the man. After almost 15 years, Annie was satisfied with that. With three mini-thems and the obligations of daily life, there was never enough time and more stress than Annie would have liked, but there was always love. So she had to be grateful for that. Lately, though, she just didn’t feel it.

  Annie’s thoughts were interrupted by Lon coming into the kitchen. “Hey, everybody!” he said. Maybe Annie just imagined it, but it seemed like everyone in the room cheered. Even Ryder came out of his room to say hi to his dad.

  “Now there’s a guy who’s fun,” Annie said, and Lon planted a kiss on her cheek.

  “What are you talking about?” Lon asked with a smile.

  “He is fun,” Grace agreed, patting her only child on the back.

  It took just a few more minutes until dinner was ready, and then the family of six sat down and ate quickly. Lon and Ryder talked about football. Hannah, Carter, and Grace talked about their school projects and Christmas wish lists: Hannah wanted a hair styling wand and concert tickets, Carter wanted superhero action figures and a skateboard like Ryder’s, and Grace wanted some new books to read. Annie took it all in and ate silently.

  After dinner, Lon helped Carter with his foam ball snowman project, Grace looked over Hannah’s and Ryder’s homework, and Annie cleaned up. The boys took baths (Hannah was a morning shower girl), and the kids went to bed. Evening family time went by too fast.

  Annie did a little work, but really dreaded the thought of starting on the holiday cards as her to-do list dictated. In fact, there was nothing Annie really felt like doing to prepare for Christmas. The only thing Annie wanted was to go to bed, not stay up doing Christmassy things. Lon and Grace were watching TV, so Annie lay down.

  “I will just settle down for a long winter’s nap,” Annie said out loud to herself, quoting The Night Before Christmas. “Because my heart is full of unwashed socks, my soul is full of gunk,” she quoted from Mr. Grinch.

  And that was the last thing she remembered.

  - - - - -

  Lon found his wife lying in bed. “Hon, you awake?” he asked, resting his hand on Annie’s shoulder. Angel was nestled near Annie’s head.

  “Hmm?”

  “I thought I’d see if you want to hurry out and get a tree?” Lon asked. “That lot on the corner is still open. It would surprise the kids, and we don’t have much time left before Christmas to enjoy a tree.”

  “Go on without me,” Annie mumbled. “My face is having a meeting with my pillow.”

  “How about gift shopping?” Lon suggested. He started to massage Annie’s back. “You said something about the kids’ teachers’ gifts. We could get some cocoa while we’re out.”

  “I got them gift cards,” Annie said. “And the weather is too warm for a hot drink.”

  “Then let’s just get a smoothie,” Lon said, hoping the third time would be a charm — and doing his best to lay on the charm. “You and me. I know you can’t resist the sweet, fresh goodness of a strawberry-banana-peach concoction. Come on, while the kids are in bed and Mom is here to watch over everything.”

  “You’re trying hard, and I’m sorry,” Annie said, looking up at Lon. “I’m just wiped out tonight. And I’m … not feeling up to Christmas this year. I’m the Grinch.”

  Lon pushed his dark blond hair back from his forehead. His hair was getting wavy over his ears and made it look as though he had wings. He would need to get a cut before Christmas. “Let’s try for tomorrow night then?” Lon asked. “Maybe you’ll feel like it then. Tree, shopping, smoothie date … Broadway show, paintball, karaoke, whatever you want.”

  Annie giggled, then sighed. Lon liked the sound of Annie’s laughing, and he liked that he had made her laugh. “OK,” Annie said. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll have more Christmas spirit.” Then she snuggled back into her pillow.

  That was the problem with Christmas spirit, Lon thought. It seemed to be a feeling. Christmas spirit could come and go. Some people had a lot of it; others never had any.

  Christmas spirit could be contagious, too, and right now Annie wasn’t catching it from Lon. How did the holidays become so complicated? he wondered. Here they were, halfway through December, and they didn’t have any decorations out and only a few presents to give. Annie hadn’t had the time for holiday prep yet, and he had been busy too. Were things different this year because his mother was living with them? Because the kids were different ages, all doing different extracurricular activities? Then again, maybe this Christmas wasn’t different from last year. Except … Lon couldn’t remember last Christmas. Good grief, he couldn’t even remember what the family had done last year, or any of the gifts the family had exchanged. Was there even a Christmas video file stored on the computer?

  Lon slumped down next to Annie. If Christmas spirit were contagious, it might work the opposite way too. Instead of Annie catching his, her lack of Christmas spirit could bring his down.

  If only they could fast forward to the second week of January and pass by the stress, or whatever it was, that was weighing her down. On the other hand, Lon didn’t want to wish away the holidays, for the kids’ sake. They deserved a chance to make fun childhood memories. And Lon deserved the opportunity to watch them making those memories.

  Lon thought about each of his three children: Hannah, who looked so much like him and was kind and easygoing; Ryder, who looked like Annie and had always been their little fireball; and Carter, who looked like both of them and was five going on thirty-five. He enjoyed watching them grow up, and he was grateful they all had one another. Lon had been an only child, and after his dad died, it had been just his mother and himself. He didn’t have much other family around while he was growing up. Now his family was six people strong — and he loved it.

  Thinking about his family, Lon dozed off. Soon he was dreaming of being on a boat, fishing, gazing out over pale aqua water. Ryder and his mother were fishing with him, and Annie was playing with Hannah and Carter on the beach in the distance. All the stresses were just small islands far, far out along the horizon, and everyone was at peace.

  Walking with Benji

  It was six days until Christmas when Grace had said goodbye to the family for the day — the children’s last day of school before the winter break — and finished her morning news shows and coffee.

  It was her routine to take a walk around the block at this time. Her physical therapist had said it would be good for her. With the exception of a few stormy days that typical Florida summer weather brought, Grace had made her daily walk a habit. It was hard to endure at first, but now her walk was something she looked forward to.

  Recovering from the stroke hadn’t been easy, and she still had a way to go to get the full use of her arm back. If she ever got it back, she thought. Even so, Grace knew she was lucky, and that many people who had strokes never walked again. Some even died.

  She was grateful for Lon, Annie, and the grandchildren for making room for her in their home. Now that pretty much everything except that arm, and half of her smile, worked, she could probably live on her own again. There was always that what if in the back of her mind, though. What if she couldn’t reach something … what if she took a misstep and fell … what if she had another stroke? The doctor said it was a possibility. If she needed help, Lon and Annie weren’t far away at their jobs and could come home. Here, she was also closer to good physical therapists.

  Those were all practical reasons for living with her son’s family, but Grace knew without a doubt that being around her grandkids had helped her heal. Their love and attention had buoyed her spirits, and, well, you can’t imp
rove your health by being negative, can you?