Miracles Retold Read online

  There was someone else who had helped raise her spirits, and she hadn’t told anyone about him.

  For the past four weeks, since before Thanksgiving, a dog had accompanied Grace on her morning walk. She first started seeing him at the end of the street, or after she turned the corner. He would walk with her around the block and back home, and then Grace would say goodbye and go inside. After a while, the dog started meeting her closer and closer to home. When Grace started carrying treats on her walk, the dog began waiting for her at the front door.

  Today, it was a few slices of bacon that Grace took outside with her.

  “Benji!” Grace greeted him with the name she had given him. Benji gently took the bacon from her hand, then gulped down each slice.

  “Did you even taste it?!” Grace said and laughed. The corners of her hazel eyes crinkled.

  The mixed-breed dog definitely had some terrier in him. The dog reminded her a little of the one in the Benji movies that were popular before Lon was born. They featured a mutt down on his luck who turned into a hero. Back then, she had been the “cool aunt” who had taken her older sister’s children to the movies, the beach, and the ice cream shop. But her sister had passed on, and those children who once loved her were strangers to her now. Her nieces and nephew probably had their own children now — maybe even children in college. Grace’s chest felt heavy just thinking about how her sister wasn’t around to see how they had grown, and how Grace herself had no ties to the children anymore.

  “Can’t go around being sad, can we?” Grace asked Benji. She smoothed her bob, which over the years had faded to a grayish beige. “We’ve got some living to do … as long as we are around to live it. Let’s walk!”

  Benji looked at Grace as if he understood every word.

  Grace had thought about making “Dog Found” signs to put up in the neighborhood and at local stores, but it was something she remembered to do only when she was walking with Benji and not after she got home. He didn’t have a collar but was probably a neighbor’s dog, anyway, because he seemed to stay in the neighborhood.

  “It’s too bad you’re someone else’s doggy,” Grace said as they ambled up the street. “I’d love to have you.” Grace sighed. “Then again, Lon and Annie would probably say no. They already have Angel. I hate that cat! Her name should be Devil.” Angel had hissed at Grace every time she had come for a visit to the house, and for about a week after she moved in. “She just … looks at me funny. And she’s always dashing outside when she knows she doesn’t have any front claws to protect herself, and someone has to go hunt her down.” She took in a deep breath. “Terrible thing to do to a creature — remove its claws. That’s how she was when they got her, though.” Grace laughed. “Yep, here I am, complaining about a cat I live with, to a dog that I don’t.”

  Grace had lived in Florida all of her life, and she loved the cooler months of December, January, and February. The relief from the heat was refreshing. She had spent 60-odd Christmases on Earth right in the same beautiful place. “Nothing but blessed,” she told Benji, as though the dog could read her thoughts. And to Grace, looking at those melty brown eyes of his, it almost seemed like he could.

  One Christmas as a girl, her parents had given her a beagle puppy. Of course, she just had to name her Snoopy, even though the dog was a female. Since then, Grace had had a dog (or two) in her life until a couple years ago. Her dachshund Rufus had passed away, and she just hadn’t gotten around to finding another dog to fill the void.

  “I miss Rufus,” Grace told Benji. “And Carmela, and Lucy, and John Boy. And George. George Burns.” Lon’s late father had said because she was his Gracie, they needed a George to have their very own Burns and Allen show, a popular TV show in the 1950s. “And … I miss my husband too. Still.” She took a few more steps with Benji at her side. “Darn it, Benji, I hate getting nostalgic. I just have too much time to think! I need something to do. When I get home, I am going to find something to do.”

  On a day like today, before the stroke, she might have been substitute teaching. She would have been gardening: pulling stray vines off the fence, getting rid of weeds, planting amaryllis bulbs, and admiring her blooming camellias. She might have chatted with her neighbors, looked up yard sales happening that coming weekend or met her friends for lunch. Many times, Grace would be at the local church to pack boxes of food or bags of toiletries for donations to local shelters. A friend had also talked her into yoga and tai chi classes at the YMCA. She missed that life, ended by a terrible blank moment five months and two counties ago. Grace stopped walking for a few seconds, clenched her teeth, and tried to focus on just breathing.

  Benji nudged Grace, then sat back next to her on the street, waiting for her to go on. Grace finally bent over to stroke the dog’s head. “You’re such a sweet boy,” she told him. He gazed up at Grace expectantly. Then they started walking again.

  Benji ambled beside Grace for the whole block and back home again. “Well, this is it, boy. Same time tomorrow? I’ll bring the snacks, you bring the attitude.” Grace rubbed Benji behind the ears. “Don’t forget.”

  She hated closing the door on Benji’s cute little face, but what could she do? He was someone else’s dog.

  Hide and Seek

  Hannah closed her school locker door for the last time that year. The days right before winter break had dragged by. Sure, she had done her homework, turned in that ridiculous gorilla diorama and studied for her final tests, but really all she could think about was spending time off from school and doing what she wanted to do.

  Mainly, Hannah wanted to spend time with her friends. Except … she wasn’t sure they wanted to spend time with her. The first thing she thought about after waking up each day in December was that Allison might invite her to the Keys house, as Allison called it — her family’s vacation condo in Islamorada in the Florida Keys. Was it too much to expect a friend she had grown up with to invite her? Apparently it was. Allison had invited Macy last summer and winter, and Sheeka had gone with her this spring. Maybe other friends had been to the Keys house too, and Hannah didn’t know it. Maybe she was the only one in their group of friends who hadn’t gone. Hannah’s shoulders slumped at the thought. Hannah wanted Allison to think of her as one of her closest friends. But here it was, the end of the day on the last day of school, and no word from Allison. Hannah was too shy to be upfront and just ask. She shifted her backpack into place and headed for the school exit, hoping to not run into any of her friends right when she felt like an outcast. Hannah wouldn’t be going to Allison’s, and she didn’t want to know who would be going.

  Now Hannah was faced with two long, dull weeks of listening to her brothers drone on about video games, having Ryder mock her about how much time she spent getting ready in the morning, and seeing her parents’ blank, tired faces as usual. What kind of holiday was that? Hannah sighed as she walked the three blocks home.

  If there was anything good to look forward to, it was spending time with her grandmother. Now that Grace was living with them, Hannah and her brothers would have more fun things to do. Their parents certainly didn’t have the time for anything fun. With Grandma, they would watch holiday movies and make Christmas goodies and decorate the house — not just stop at putting up a Christmas tree the way Mom and Dad did. Her parents hardly ever watched a full movie on DVD. Mom and Dad rarely wanted to cook or bake. Their house was the only one on the street without so much as a wreath on the front door or a menorah in a window. Even with one good arm, Grace could do most of those things. More importantly, she had the time to do it.

  When she got home, Hannah sniffed — and blinked — at the kitchen. “Grandma!” she said. “You’ve been making cookies without me!” Jars and bags were spread across the counters, flour was sprinkled across the floor, and used baking sheets mingled with platters of warm, delicious-looking cookies. Ryder and Carter, already home from school, were arguing over whose turn it was to stir in the next ingredient in a new batch of dough. “
Snickerdoodles?” Hannah asked.

  Grace smiled. “I just made one batch. I can’t make anything fancy with one hand, but I can show you and the boys what to do — unless you want to spend time with your friends.”

  “Grandma, you’re a saint! How did you know I wanted to make cookies? I mean, I want to see my friends, too, but … they’re busy, and … I don’t have any plans.” Hannah took a small bite of a snickerdoodle. “This cookie is so amazing.” Hannah heartily shoved the rest of the cookie in her mouth.

  “Yeah, and they look too good to eat!” Ryder said, although it looked as though he had already eaten a couple himself, judging by the crumbs stuck to his mouth.

  Carter held a cookie and stared at it. “Does Mom know we’re eating cookies now? I don’t know if she would like this.”

  Grace kissed Carter on top of the head. “It’s OK. It’s not every day you have a last day of school, right? This is your last day of school until next year!”

  “Whoa!” Carter said.

  “And Ryder, these aren’t even the pretty cookies,” Grace told him. “You can make those next.”

  Ryder grinned.

  “It’s Christmastime!” Grace said. “What would Christmas be without cookies?”

  “Exactly!” Hannah said.

  Grace led Hannah, Ryder, and Carter through making several batches of cookies. Hannah put an iTunes Radio holiday station on the laptop computer so they could listen to music while they worked. The warm, sweet scents of baked brown sugar, cinnamon, and anise and the cool whiff of peppermint filled the kitchen. Carter eventually got tired of standing and wandered off to build Lego towers on the floor, but he came back to the kitchen now and then to nab a fresh cookie. Ryder hopped from one cookie project to another, sometimes joining Carter in playing with Legos. Hannah, however, wanted to hang out with Grace, go through each recipe she had set out to make, and be on hand to do whatever Grace couldn’t. Hannah loved hearing her grandmother’s stories from her past, or just whatever was on her mind, because nobody talked to Hannah the same way Grace did. Her grandmother was fun to listen to. When Grace wasn’t telling stories, Hannah was focused on rolling dough as Grace instructed, piping icing on cooled gingerbread people alongside Ryder, filling thumbprints with strawberry preserves, and washing bowls for the next batch of dough. She sang along to the holiday songs. They continued baking through the afternoon. Eventually, there were so many cookies that the family ran out of platters and containers and had to make room on sheets of waxed paper spread across other counters and tables in the house.

  Her hands busy and her mind filled with stories and songs, Hannah had forgotten the hurt in her heart about Allison’s vacation condo — for a few hours, anyway.

  - - - -

  It was dark when Annie got the chance to leave her office. It seemed ironic to her that the shortest days of the year — those right before and right after the winter solstice — were her longest at work. The end of the year was a busy time.

  Annie checked her to-do list on her phone before getting into her vehicle. Presents. She still needed to buy gifts for the kids, Lon, and Grace. Fortunately, Annie knew what they wanted and had purchased some gifts online. She’d had them shipped to her office to keep them hidden. The rest of the gift ideas she had added to her list on her phone. Now all she had to do was fight traffic, find a parking spot at a few stores, pick up the gifts, and wait in lines of shoppers at the registers. By then, the traffic shouldn’t be as bad, but she still had to get home and hide the gifts.

  “It’s a wonderful life,” Annie said out loud to herself, waiting for her chance to change lanes on the road.

  Five large shopping bags and several swipes of her credit card later, Annie digitally checked off the gifts from her to-do list. She was going to be really late getting home.

  When Annie finally arrived and walked inside, she was surprised by the neat row of cookies covering her dining table — and Angel the cat sitting among them, her fluffy white tail fanning a batch of decorated gingerbread people.

  “Aaack!” she screamed, clapping her hands at the cat. “Shoo! Shoo!”

  The kids came running into the room to see what the fuss was about, arriving in time to see Angel leaping off the table and running for cover.

  “Oh no, guys,” Annie said, letting her purse fall to the floor. Grace caught up to the children and entered the room. “I’m afraid Angel sat in your cookies here.”

  “Oh man!” Ryder said. “Those were the ones I decorated like Star Wars characters!” he said. “See?” Ryder held up a cookie that Annie identified as a gingerbread Stormtrooper.

  “They’re very nice,” Annie said. “That’s too bad.”

  “Ugh,” Hannah said, picking up wisps of white fur from the cookies.

  “It’s OK,” Carter said, “She doesn’t know any better because she’s just a cat.”

  Grace put her hand on her hip and sighed. “Guess you can’t turn your back on a cat for a moment! They’re so quiet, you don’t know what they are up to. If you had a dog, he would have eaten the cookies but at least you would have heard him doing it!”

  Annie glanced at Grace. “I’m sorry, guys,” she said. “Maybe next time, one of us should shut Angel in a room so she is out of the way.”

  “And leave her there,” Grace said.

  “We made more cookies, Mom,” Ryder said. “These aren’t all of them. Come see!”

  Annie followed her family to the kitchen.

  “Grandma is a cookie genius!” Hannah said. “Look!”

  Annie couldn’t help but put on a frozen smile as she saw both the dazzling array of cookies and the extremely messy state of the kitchen. “I see.” She prevented her thoughts from turning into spoken words about who was going to clean the kitchen and how dinner was going to be made among the piles of dirty bowls and utensils, and every last inch of space taken up by cookies. Instead, she said, “Grandma has always been an excellent baker and cook.”

  As if she could read Annie’s mind, Grace said, “We were just going to wrap it up and clean the kitchen, right, kids?” And she delegated small jobs to each person.

  Annie took Grace’s arm and whispered in her ear, “I have Christmas gifts to bring in. Think you can keep the kids occupied while I find somewhere to hide the presents?”

  Grace smiled and nodded, pretending what Annie said was of no consequence. “All right, while you kids are doing your jobs, I’ll find somewhere to put all these cookies!”

  Annie went to her SUV (it was really just a tall wagon) and bent to take the boxes of gifts out of the shopping bags, whose crinkly sound would be a giveaway for sure. She had brought towels to cover the boxes just in case one of the children happened to see her. Annie thought she could clear her wagon of the presents in three trips this way, which meant finding three different hiding spots around the house. Hannah had never been a present-hunter, but Ryder had been caught twice tearing into gifts before Christmas. Under his tutelage, Carter was now starting to realize there were presents to be found around the house, if you looked hard enough. They certainly keep me on my toes, Annie thought as she threw a towel over two boxes and headed for the garage. From there, she could pull down the ladder that led to the attic and stash the presents there. On a second trip, the shelf space behind a torn cardboard box containing a tent would do for another gift.

  Before Annie could get the last group of gifts out of the car, though, Carter opened the front door. “Mom? What are you doing?”

  “Oh!” Annie jumped. “You scared me a little. I’m just cleaning my truck. Go on inside and help Grandma, sweetie.”

  Carter turned back inside, leaving the door open. Good thing, Annie thought, Not sure I could have opened the door with this last trip. These were the smaller presents that she could hide here and there around the house without attracting any attention before Christmas — she hoped. Arms full, Annie minced her way to her room, clutching the towel-covered heap. She would come back and shut the front door, then help w
ith the kitchen cleanup and start on dinner, and no one would know about the presence of the presents.