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The man had his hands shoved in his pocket, and his green eyes spoke of how haunted he still was. Brock walked around the counter where he had been doing a terrible job of wrapping a garment box. He put his arm around the man, and they took a seat at the front of the store where we had placed a few chairs for people to sit while they waited to for their gifts to be wrapped. I watched how tenderly Brock spoke to the man about his own experiences. I was most proud when he told the man it was never too late to seek help. He even admitted he was still in therapy. My eyes welled up with tears when the man threw his arms around Brock.
The other patrons in the store did their best not to stare, though it was hard not to be interested. I, myself, was completely enthralled.
After several minutes, Brock gave the man his card and told him to call him anytime. The man wished him the merriest of Christmases and left with his wrapped gifts, looking more hopeful than when he’d walked in.
Brock stood and caught my eye.
“I love you,” I mouthed.
His smile said he loved me too. He went back to work wrapping gifts while I organized donations at the back. People’s generosity never ceased to amaze me, especially this time of year. Without fail, people would stop by and make large cash donations, wanting nothing in return, not even a gift wrapped.
Around midafternoon, we had a surprise visitor. Sheridan came strolling in, carrying several bags from some of the swankiest stores at the shopping complex. While always beautiful, she looked dead on her feet in her cream cashmere coat that was buttoned up to keep the cold out. It had stopped snowing, but there was a chill in the air.
I set down the Tonka truck I’d been adding to the spreadsheet on my laptop and rushed toward her. “Mom, how are you?” It had gotten easier while living with her to use the term of endearment. I reached for her bags.
She easily gave them up, which wasn’t like her at all. “Thank you, darling. I thought I’d donate some items.”
I looked at the designer store bags. Some lucky kids were going to be over the moon; that is, if they’d even heard of these stores. “That was kind of you. Thank you. Would you like to come sit with me in the back?”
“I would love that.”
Brock placed a big red bow on a package before waving to us as we walked by. He must have known Sheridan needed some girl time.
I helped her get settled on the chair next to mine before getting her a cup of coffee in the back room. She looked like she could use the caffeine and something warm to drink. I was back in no time, and she gratefully accepted the Styrofoam cup. “Thank you, dear.”
I took the seat next to her. “How are you?”
“Better now that I’m with you. You look absolutely radiant today.” She took a sip of the coffee before setting it down on the table.
I stared down at my red fitted sweater and skinny jeans.
“I’m not talking about your clothes, though you always look beautiful. I’m referring to the smile in your eyes.”
“I’m happy Brock’s home.”
“I had a feeling you would be.”
I took her delicate, manicured hand. “You didn’t have to leave,” I whispered. “There’s plenty of room at the house.”
She squeezed my hand. “You and your husband need some time alone. I wouldn’t intrude on that for the world.”
“We wouldn’t mind.”
“You say that now.” She smiled a tired smile.
I supposed it would be harder to explore all the wonders of Brock if she were there, but we would make it work. For her, I would do anything. “How are you really?” I had to know.
She staved off her tears with shallow breaths. “I’m not sure. I’m taking it a day at a time. The public facade is tiring, though.”
“You don’t have to keep it up.”
“I do for Brant, right now. After that, I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she choked out. She recovered quickly and sat up tall with a fake smile.
“Mom, don’t pretend for me.”
She looked up front at all the people waiting to get gifts wrapped or to donate. “A mom does what she has to for her children. Now where can I help today?”
She was incredible. I hesitated to give her an assignment, but her eyes pleaded with me to give her something to do. “I think Brock could use some help wrapping gifts. Your brilliant doctor son has a steady hand, but somehow that hasn’t translated into wrapping paper around boxes. People aren’t complaining, though, because it’s him. Like it’s an honor to get his crappy wrapping job.”
