AllFreeNovel
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I think of all the Christmas Eves we’ve come to this church, from when Emma and Josh were babies, to toddlers running through the aisles and then a bit older, bouncing off the walls with excitement over Christmas. Even as teenagers, they got into the spirit of the thing, happy to hold their candles as the congregation sang “Silent Night.” Nothing has to change now.
As the service begins, I tell myself to count my blessings, because I know that I still have so many, even if it’s hard to remember what they are. Then, as we stand to sing “Once in Royal David’s City,” a sudden, surprising thought occurs to me: Could even this be a blessing?
Next to me, Nick sings out lustily, as he always does. “Where a mother laid her baby, in a manger for his bed. Mary was that mother mild, Jesus Christ her little child.”
I think of Mary, gently laying her son in his makeshift cradle, having no idea what sorrows and grief were ahead of her. Yet would she have had regrets? Would she have chosen not to have him, if she’d been given the choice? Did she find joy in the sorrow, blessing within the curse? Would I?
Of course, I can hardly compare myself to Mary, yet I think of mothers everywhere—mothers who loved so hard, whose hearts were broken, who gave themselves again and again and sometimes—often—got nothing back. Would they regret loving their children, giving them all that they could, when they could? I don’t think so.
Nick glances at me, and I realize I’ve stopped singing as the thoughts unfurl inside me. Could Emma dropping out of Harvard actually be a blessing? Could Josh’s suspension? Could hard things get us to a good place, one where we didn’t even know we needed to be?
“Ally…” Nick whispers, concerned, and I do my best to smile at him and then I start to sing.
Christmas has neither breakthroughs nor breakdowns, and I count that as a blessing. There are no heartfelt conversations, no terrible arguments. Josh smiles and says thanks when he opens the hoodie I got him for Christmas; while making dinner, Emma offers to do the gravy. Small things, but I treasure them in a way I wouldn’t have before. I feel fragile, but I also feel strong. I have no idea what the next few weeks or months or years will bring.
By the time Beth brings Dylan back the day after Christmas, I have at least edged back from the brink. I open the door as soon as I see their car pull into the drive. Beth gets out slowly, but when she opens the back door, Dylan clambers out and barrels towards me.
I let out a startled but happy “oof” as his arms come around my waist. Then I look up at Beth and see how stricken she looks, before she clears her expression, and gently I pry Dylan off me.
“It’s good to see you, Dylan.”
“Good,” he says, smiling at me. “Good.”
Beth draws a hitched breath before turning to get Dylan’s bag out of the car.
“Did you have a nice time?” I ask Dylan, and he hunches his shoulders before trying to hug me again.
“We did,” Beth says as she comes towards me with his bag. She doesn’t sound very convincing, though, and her face is drawn and pale, violet shadows under her eyes. I wonder what happened; or maybe it’s what didn’t happen.
I step out of the doorway and, seeing Emma, Dylan runs into the house without a backward glance for Beth.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask. “Stay for dinner?”
She peers into the hallway beyond me; Dylan has already disappeared. “No. Thanks though, but I should unpack. Do laundry.”
They sound like flimsy excuses to me, but I can hardly force her. “Okay… if you’re sure…” She nods. “Not too long till the court hearing, right?” I’ve already submitted my written statement about Dylan and his care, and so has Nick.
“A couple of weeks.” Already she’s edging back towards the car.
“Not long at all.”
She nods again, and then she waves, and she’s back in her car before I can even say goodbye.
When Beth shows up the following Tuesday for her usual visit, Dylan and Josh are in the midst of building a Lego empire all over the family-room floor. I feel guilty, because I should have gotten him ready to go out, but he was enjoying himself so much and, amazingly, Josh was, too. The result, though, is that when Beth tells him they have to go, he has a meltdown of the kind I haven’t seen in weeks.
“Dylan.” She puts one hand on his arm and he shrugs it off almost violently, a look of fury on his face that makes Beth bite her lip.
“No,” he says, and the firmness of the word surprises us both. “No.”
“You can do the Lego when you get ba
ck,” I suggest. “Josh will wait for you.”
Beth shoots me a savage look and I fall silent. She rises from where she was kneeling. “You can stay and finish, Dylan,” she says quietly. “I’ll watch.”
She spends the entire two hours sitting on the sofa in silence, watching Dylan with a distant look on her face while he pays absolutely no attention to her. I’m not sure what to make of any of it, and I end up hovering in a way I’m sure annoys Beth, before I finally retreat to my office.
“It feels as if she’s withdrawing from him,” I tell Nick later, as we settle on the sofa after dinner. Dylan is in bed, Emma and Josh in their rooms. “Because he’s withdrawing from her.”
