Tears overflowed from Zoe’s eyes. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore, but then she’d see or hear something that reminded her of Donovan and all her emotions overflowed into liquid pools.
In the three days since her life had turned upside down, she’d received countless phone calls and emails asking for exclusive interviews. Everyone wanted their own slice of her story. The only problem was, it was her story, not theirs.
If she’d wanted the attention, she would have announced herself in the beginning. No news outlet could possibly understand the heart of why she’d started. They’d take her pain and exploit it for ratings.
She’d stopped checking her email, had seriously considered changing her phone number. If she had one wish this Christmas, it would be to make it all stop.
No, that wouldn’t be it.
Her one wish would be for it to never have happened. Then Donovan wouldn’t have betrayed her, and her heart wouldn’t be shattered to pieces. How could she have been so wrong about him? That’s what she got for falling in love with him in a month when she’d kept herself closed off for the five years before that.
Snowball jumped on her lap, and Coal lay down beside her. Even they sensed her heartache and comforted her by sitting near her and not on their usual opposite ends of the sofa. Some Christmas Eve this turned out to be.
She scratched Coal behind the ears. “What am I going to do?”
The thought of moving crossed her mind, but she squelched it. Nativity was her home, for better or worse—and while the worse weighed heavier at the moment, she loved this town. She wouldn’t let one person’s betrayal push her away. She’d even started to make friends at church—real friends, deeper than the superficial.
Thanks to Donovan who motivated me to seek friendships. Ironic, huh?
Her doorbell rang, and she ignored it. Reporters across the state and even the country had shown up at her door, hoping for an interview. The intrusion into her privacy annoyed her more than the emails and phone calls. Was there no respect left in the world? How were they getting into the complex? Someone had to be giving out the code, which went against the policy.
She had half a mind to call the office and report the latest press member for trespassing.
Why not share your story personally since you’ve already been discovered?
Pride. She pulled her cardigan closed around her. Since Donovan had broken her trust, she’d wallowed in self-pity, letting her wounds fester. A heart could only be repaired so many times.
I am close to the brokenhearted, My child.
The reminder snapped her into reality. True, Donovan had hurt her, but she shouldn’t have allowed him the power to ruin her Christmas. Christmas was about friends and family, gifts and wonder.
But more than any of those combined, it was the celebration of the Savior’s birth.
The small inconveniences she’d experienced by having her identity discovered were nothing compared to what He’d gone through to save the world. To continue moping contradicted all that the holiday stood for. She’d been through worse than this in her life—much worse—and came out standing. She’d come out on the other side of this on two feet as well.
Her heart still ached, but her attitude shifted. She got off the sofa and went to her computer, set her music streaming service to her favorite Christmas station. To prove to herself she’d shifted perspectives, she logged into her email for the first time in days. Ignoring any pertinent messages for the sole sake of not seeing information requests was foolish and served no purpose. All she had to do was delete those with a click of the mouse.
Three hundred new emails waited for her. Her eyes widened as she scanned the subjects. Thank you. Your candy cane saved my life. My Candy Cane Story. Thank you for the candy cane wish. You don’t know me, but I wanted to share my story.
The list continued. She returned to the top and opened the first email.
Dear Ms. Daniels,
For three years, I’ve wanted to thank whoever left the candy cane in the hospital waiting room, and now I have that opportunity.
My father had a heart attack on Thanksgiving three years ago. His prognosis was grim, and I was devastated. You see, my mom left when I was five, so Dad was the only parent I’ve ever known. I was a senior in college at the time and had commuted from home all four years to stay close to Dad. I sat in that waiting room for hours, wondering how I’d go on without him.
I picked up a magazine, a last-ditch effort to reroute my worrisome thoughts. A candy cane fell out with a slip of paper attached. On it was written a verse that said God would be a father to the fatherless. It was exactly what I needed to hear at that moment.
Without your message on the candy cane that night, I imagine my life would have turned out bitter when Dad passed away several days later. I know without a doubt he is in a better place now and singing praises to the Lord he loved.
I miss him every day, but I am married now and expecting my first child next spring. Dad’s legacy will live on in all that he taught me which I’ll soon be able to pass on to my son.
Thank you again, for the candy cane wish. It changed my life, and I imagine countless others.
With Gratitude,
Meghan Dewitt
Zoe wiped a tear. This was what the candy canes had been about, and a deep sense of fulfillment began healing her own fresh pain.
She opened the next one and the next. Story after story told her how she’d made a difference in the lives of Nativity and beyond. Father, thank You for the ministry You placed on my heart. She took a break after reading the first hundred emails. Her eyes needed a rest and her emotions overflowed.
Although Donovan’s betrayal stung, she never would have heard all the inspiring stories if her identity hadn’t been made public. Each email became a healing balm that soothed her battered heart. That almost made everything that happened worth it.
Almost.
She heated a can of chicken noodle soup for lunch, then ironed her clothes for the Christmas Eve service later that night. She’d planned to attend with Donovan but would go solo again this year. Once she got to church, she’d find someone to sit with. No more withdrawing into a shell to protect herself from hurt. Even though she still reeled from Donovan’s action, she’d had a taste of friendship and couldn’t go back to only having acquaintances.
The doorbell rang for the third time that day. Instead of ignoring it as she had earlier, she decided to answer, and politely tell the person she wasn’t interested in giving an interview. She opened the door and froze, not expecting to see Donovan. He stood with the reporter from WTCH who’d run the story on her.
She clenched her jaw and crossed her arms. Stared at them without speaking a word. All the stabbing pain of his betrayal rushed to fill her face with heat. They had a lot of nerve showing up at her home.
Donovan’s gaze shifted to her hand about to close the door then back to her face. “I know you don’t want to see me right now, let alone talk to me, but I have to talk to you. I can explain what happened.”
The urge to shut the door in his face ran strong, but she stepped back and let him in, along with Marv Markel, the reporter. She gestured to the living room, inviting them to have a seat. She sat in the armchair, giving them the sofa.
Snowball jumped on Marv’s lap, and the man appeared horrified. Serves him right. She could have called the cat down from him, but she rather enjoyed seeing him squirm. Only when he sneezed, and she realized he could be allergic, did she pat her knee and call the cat to her.
Marv folded his hands in front of him and leaned forward at a slight angle. “This isn’t usual procedure, but Donovan wouldn’t relent until I agreed to speak with you.”
She stroked the cat’s fur and gauged the man’s body language. He didn’t want to be there, so she’d let him have his say, and send him out with Donovan. “What about?”
“Donovan didn’t know anything about the story until after we aired it, and he’s not our tipster.”
“Oh.” Her mouth gaped, and she processed the information. She’d been so convinced Donovan betrayed her, she hadn’t considered the possibility of anyone else. But who could have known? “How did you find out it was me?”
“A nurse at the hospital saw you on the security cam. I can’t reveal her name without risking her job, but she called the station, and we went from there.” Marv tilted his head. “This guy had nothing to do with it, and for what’s it’s worth, I’ve never seen a man work so hard to win his girl back.”
Her chest sunk to her stomach. Donovan hadn’t done a single thing wrong, and she’d treated him like dirt. Could he forgive her?
If he’d gone through all that trouble to prove his innocence, surely that meant they still had a chance, didn’t it?
She met his gaze with tears in her eyes and mouthed an apology.
Marv stood up and excused himself. “If I’m not needed here any longer, I’ll be on my way. I wish you both a Merry Christmas.”
“I’ll see you to the door.” She rose to her feet and took several steps, but Hans stopped her.
“I can find my way.” Marv darted a glance from her to Donovan. “I have a feeling the two of you have lots of talking to do.”
Once he left, she sat next to Donovan. “I’m so sorry. I have thought the worst of you.”
“You have to know I’d never hurt you.” His eyes crinkled at the sides. “Work comes second to people, especially those I care about.”
“I know that now, and I should have known it then.” She wrung her hands. “I’m rusty on relationships. I’m so afraid of getting close to anyone, I think I got scared when I realized how deep my feelings for you went—maybe even welcomed an excuse to push you away.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He stilled her hands with his. “I know life is hard and dealt you a raw deal. There are no guarantees, but we can have today, and tomorrow’s today, and the next day’s today, and all the todays that God grants us. I’ve fallen in love with you. I want you to meet Brody … and one day I want us to become a family.”
“You mean that?”
“With all my heart.” His arms folded around her.
She leaned into his embrace, breathing in his piney, rustic aftershave. “I’d like that very much.”