A knock sounded on Evan’s bedroom door. He lazily drifted into consciousness and glanced at the ancient alarm clock. Why was he being summoned before six in the morning?
He wiggled out from under the decade old blue comforter and pulled on a shirt. Padded to the door as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.
Janie’s hand froze in the air, about to knock again when he opened the door. A smile stretched as wide as her lips allowed. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too.” He covered his yawn with a hand. “It’s early.”
“I know, but I woke up an hour ago, and I’m too excited to go back to sleep.”
Still working on coming fully awake, he smiled sluggishly. “Excitement’s good. Maybe not so much at five thirty in the morning, but good.”
“Trust me, you’ll feel differently in a minute.” She yanked his arm, pulling him out of the room. “Come see.”
“Where are we going?”
She didn’t answer.
Another yawn came as he followed her down the hallway. He stretched his arms over his head, attempting to get his blood flowing and bring life to his body. His leg ached, as it normally did first thing in the morning, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.
Her speed increased after they hit the bottom of the stairs. She practically skipped to the front door, giddy as a child, and reached it several seconds before he did.
“Are you ready?” She stood with a hand on the doorknob, a goofy grin on her face, and wearing red reindeer pajamas his mom had given her as a gift last night.
He had on a pair of flannel bottoms of the same print, also a present from his mom. Some traditions one never outgrew. “I’m ready.”
She swung the door open to a blast of cold air. “Look.”
Rubbing his arms to keep warm, he peeked outside. His eyes spread, taking in the landscape. He must still be asleep and dreaming. Louisiana didn’t typically have snow, and never any accumulation to speak of. Especially not on Christmas. But after blinking several times, he admitted his eyes didn’t deceive him.
A solid blanket of crystallized, unblemished, white snow covered the yard, vehicles, and decorations. The porch and street lights cast the perfect amount of light to create the illusion of a modern-day Norman Rockwell painting.
“Isn’t it beautiful? It’s at least three inches.” Janie stared at the scene. Joy and reverence radiated from her.
“Amazing.” Fully awake now from the wonder of a white Christmas, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the beauty. “I’m torn between wanting to be a child and do all the things I never got to, like traipsing around in it, making snowballs, and scooping it up to eat—or preserving the untouched view as long as possible.”
“Can we admire it a little longer before marring it?”
Her contented sigh rendered him powerless to do anything but grant her wish. He slid an arm around her waist, wanting nothing more than to share this ethereal moment in time with his best friend. “The sun will rise soon enough.”
They stood at the door until the first hint of the sun appeared. Even when his leg began to throb from standing too long in one position, he couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t help believing that God had given them the snowfall as a gift to remind them He was in control and that nothing was impossible with Him.
A renewed hope to end the year and begin the next.
The silence came to an end when he heard his mother coming down the steps. He jerked his arm from Janie and put space between them. His mom wasn’t so different from Janie’s. They both read into any action, word, or touch to believe more than friendship existed between them.
“Come see, Mom.” He motioned her to the door. “A Christmas miracle.”
His mom clapped her hands and kept them pressed together when she saw the snow. “Wow. The only other time I ever remember a white Christmas was in eighty-nine, and that was only a dusting.”
“I’m grabbing my phone to take a picture.” Janie ran up the steps.
“Merry Christmas.” Mom kissed his cheek. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“All the time, but it’s never too often.”
“When I think back to this time last year.” She choked on her words and paused. “I’m so thankful you’re here to celebrate with us this year.”
“Me, too.” His own words were hard to form, and he hugged her to express the rest of his sentiments.
“Your dad will be down soon. I’ll get the coffee going.”
After she had left the room, Evan went to the living room and lowered himself to the sofa. The pain today bore down on him, but he wouldn’t let it change his mood.
Janie popped her head around the wall and showed him a picture on her phone. “I sent my mom a picture, and a few seconds later, she sent back one of their eight inches of snow.”
“No competitive personalities in your family, huh?” He stretched his leg over the other two cushions of the sofa.
“Not at all.” Her gaze shifted to his leg. “Bad day?”
“I’ll be fine. Precautionary measures.”
“Where’s your medicine?” She scowled at him, not buying his lie.
“On the nightstand in my room.” No point letting pride steal his enjoyment.
She went upstairs again and returned with a pill and glass of water. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He popped the pill in his mouth and chased it with a swig of water. “Don’t tell Mom, or she’ll worry. I knew better than to stand still for so long, but it was worth it.”
“I won’t.” She pointed in the direction of the kitchen where the smell of freshly brewed coffee beckoned. “Do you want a cup? I’ll bring you one.”
“Sure.” He glanced out the window, then winked at her. “If you don’t mind, I’ll sit here and admire the snow a bit longer.”
***
Piles of unwrapped presents formed multiple stacks around the living room. Evan hadn’t received this many presents since before he’d graduated high school, but his parents had spared no expense this year. They’d even spoiled Luke, now officially part of the family, and Janie, whom they’d taken under their wing and declared one of them.
Not all presents had been given out yet. He had a special one set aside for Janie that he’d give to her in private after Kate and Luke left, and Mom and Dad went to bed. A lot of hours had gone into making it, and he hoped she liked it.
He stole a glance at her. Her face displayed appreciation for all the gifts, but he knew the inclusion meant more to her than the presents themselves.
She wrapped a plum-colored scarf around her neck and stroked the fabric. “It’s so soft. I want to go outside for an excuse to wear it.”
“I saw it and immediately thought of you.” His mom beamed. “And you’ll need it the next few days. This cold snap isn’t going anywhere for now.”
Kate rose to her feet. “I have a final present each for Mom, Dad, and Evan. It’s from Luke and me.” She distributed a large, file-sized envelope to each of them. “Open them.”
Sliding a finger under the flap, he pried it loose. He looked inside and saw a paper. Pulled it out and realized it was some type of certificate. For what? Scanning it, he read, Congratulations on your promotion to uncle, effective this July.
The words sunk in. His big sister was having a baby.
Jealousy like he’d never known swooped down on him, and he hated himself for it. Nausea rolled in his stomach. She would live the dream he’d never get to experience. No one knew, except him and the doctors who broke the news. He clenched his jaw, willing the emotion to go away.
Help me, Lord. Take away this envy and replace it with only positive feelings.
Kate’s face glowed. She deserved nothing but happiness, and she’d be a fantastic mother.
He watched as their mom hugged and squeezed her, and shed joyous tears over the news she’d be a grandmother.
Their joy jumped to him. A corner of his heart ached, but he couldn’t be happier for his sister. He’d be the best uncle his future niece or nephew could ask for.
Joining in the embraces and celebration, he snuck a peak at Janie. Did the news evoke similar sentiments in her? Did she mourn for the child she and Mike would never have? Her face revealed nothing but a quiet smile.
A few hours later, after Kate and Luke had left, and his parents retired for the night, he sought out Janie to give her the special gift. He found her curled on the sofa with silent tears and sobs wracking her body.
He approached slowly, set the gift aside, and sat beside her, enveloping her in his arms until the cries subsided. He didn’t tell her it wasn’t that bad, or even that it would be okay.
In her sorrow, he let her cry out her grief without adding meaningless platitudes. If she wanted to talk, she would. Time had no measure. He’d be there for her until she no longer needed him.
At some point, Janie lifted her head and met his gaze. “I wanted a baby, but Mike thought it best to wait until we had financial security. We’d decided to try after that deployment.”
“I’m sorry.” He was so sick of those two words. Too much to be sorry for, too little that could be changed.
“I’m happy for your sister. I truly am.” She wiped her eyes on the sleeve at her shoulder. “Babies are a sweet blessing, but it reminded me of what I didn’t have. I held it in, praying no one would see. I’d feel terrible if I cast any shadow on their joy.”
Tell her. Share your burden. You don’t have to carry it alone. He couldn’t. It was too personal, too private a flaw. “No one would have faulted you. They would have understood.”
She shook her head. “They deserve this happiness without my baggage bringing them down.”
That he understood. More than she knew.
He nudged her shoulder with his, then reached behind him to grab the gift. “Hey, I have something that might make you smile. Want another present?”
“You and your family have given me too much.”
“This one’s different. It’s from me, Jared, and Wyatt.” Gripping it tightly, he handed it to her and held his breath. Please let her like it.
Her fingers brushed his as she curled a hand around the edge. “I should wait until we’re all together.”
Evan moved his head side to side. “They wanted you to have it now, on Christmas.”
“Should I open it then?”
He laughed and nodded. “That’s usually what you do with a present.”
She ran her hand over the perfectly wrapped box. He couldn’t take credit for that—he’d asked Mom to help him wrap it yesterday. Her fingers stilled on the sliver of tape holding the final piece of gift wrap in place. Finally, she revealed the entire box and lifted the lid, removed the book.
“What is this?” Her hand rested on the cover, as if she knew what she’d find, but wanted time to prepare.
“A scrapbook of your life with Mike.” His eyes remained glued to hers, waiting for a reaction. “We had creative help from a few of the females in the squadron and some of the guy’s wives.”
Hands trembling, she lifted back the front cover. “Oh my goodness, it’s the first picture of Mike and me together, years before we ever dated. We spent hours in that sandbox as children. How did you find this?”
“We called your parents, and they sent us a handful of photos to choose from.”
She flipped to the next page and laughed. “Our junior prom. What was I thinking with that dress?”
“You were pretty.” He elbowed her in the ribs. “A bit mermaidish, but still cute.”
“Those sequins.” She shuddered in embarrassment. “I bet that dress is still hanging somewhere in my parents’ house.”
She went forward several pages and stopped. “Senior prom proved my fashion taste matured.”
“Is that a green tie he’s wearing?”
“I didn’t say his style improved.” As she continued examining each page, a range of emotions swept over her face.
Affection. Grief. Love. Sadness. Merriment. Grief again.
A tear dropped on the final page, and she didn’t move to dry it. Her hand pressed against the plastic page protector. “The day he deployed. This is the last picture ever taken of us together. I love it, even if it’s bittersweet. I can look at our faces and see the love between us.”
“He loved you—no doubt about that. His final words begged us to tell you how much he loved you.”
She clutched the scrapbook close to her chest. “I’ll treasure this forever. Thank you.”
“There are a few hours of Christmas left, and there’s still snow on the ground. Should we bundle up and sit outside with hot chocolate?” The idea came out of the blue, but he discovered he really wanted her to say yes.
“I can’t imagine a better ending to this day.”
“I’ll make the drinks and meet you outside.”
While the milk heated, he ran out to the shop and grabbed a space heater. He plugged it into an outdoor outlet on the patio and pulled two chairs close to it. With that and the heat exuding from the house, they should stay semi-comfortable.
He returned to the kitchen right as the milk turned into a rolling boil. After removing the saucepan from the heat, he funneled it into cups and added the powdered mix. Threw in extra marshmallows.
Janie walked in laughing. “Having hot chocolate with your marshmallows?”
“They’re super fresh, the kind that melt right into it.” He held one out to her. “Try one.”
She reached out a hand to take one, but on impulse he held it to her lips.
What am I doing?
After a short hesitation, she opened her mouth, and he fed her the sugary treat. His fingers brushed against her lips and lingered—every second of lingering taking them down a path they shouldn’t take—couldn’t take.
But when Janie’s eyes met his, filled with the same wonder and awe and confusion that he felt, he didn’t stop. His hand slid against the silky skin of her cheek, finding a home at the nape of her neck.
When had his heart shifted? Had it? Or was this romantic encounter a product of emotional overload? He pushed all thoughts aside.
His eyes never left hers, waiting for any sign that this wasn’t what they both wanted. Her throat constricted, and her teeth grazed her bottom lip. Nervous, but not unwilling.
She raised her hand, tentatively touching his cheek, then trailed a finger along his jaw.
Closer than they’d ever been, but still so far apart.
He guided her forward—further down the path—lowering his head for their mouths to meet. His lips pressed against hers in a healing kiss. And for those few seconds, he was a man, whole and uncrippled.