I opened my garage door and pulled inside. “Here we are,” I said.
Emily pushed the button on the seat belt and it released. I opened the car door for her and she stepped out into the garage. I opened the trunk and pulled out her suitcase.
“There’s been a change of plans,” I said, opening the door that led into the kitchen, “and you’re going to stay at my house. Is that okay?”
She nodded. Girl greeted us with a round of wet kisses. Emily turned her face.
“That’s enough, Girl. Lie down.” She lay in front of Emily and wagged her tail. “That’s Girl.” Her tail was moving so fast that her entire body wiggled with excitement.
“That’s a funny name,” she said.
“It’s not the most original but it did take us several seconds to come up with it.” I could tell that Emily was apprehensive but she stretched out her hand for Girl. “Careful, she might lick you to death.”
Emily reached toward Girl’s head and Girl threw her head up to lick Emily’s hand and Emily jumped.
“That’s enough, Girl,” I said, scolding her. She lay down at Emily’s feet and whined. I looked at Emily, “Would you like something to eat?”
She shook her head.
“Something to drink? Want some milk or juice?”
She shook her head again. “My mom doesn’t let me drink a lot at night because I wet the bed.”
I had noticed in previous visits with Emily at the Delphys’ house that she would often talk about her mother in the present tense.
“Let me hang up your coat, then, and I can show you where you’ll sleep.” I helped take off her coat and she followed me to the hall closet. I hung up my coat and turned to her. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, let’s head upstairs.” Girl led the way and I walked into the spare bedroom. Emily stood in the doorway. I set her suitcase on the floor and sat on the bed. “It’s okay, Emily. You can come in.”
She came into the room and stood in front of me. I helped take off her clothes.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
She shook her head.
“If you need to go during the night it’s right there,” I said, pointing into the hallway. “Are you ready to go to sleep?”
She nodded and I pulled the blankets down so she could crawl into bed. Girl jumped on top of the comforter.
“Girl, get down,” I scolded. I didn’t like dog hair on the bed.
“It’s okay. She can sleep here,” Emily said, putting her hand on the dog. Girl gave me a smug look and I knew I was defeated. I pulled the covers up around Emily’s neck and over her teddy bear. She moved the blankets from the bear’s face.
“He can’t breathe like that,” she said.
I smiled. “What’s his name?” I said, tucking the blankets under the bear’s chin.
“Ernie.”
“Oh, Ernie’s a good, solid name for a teddy bear. How long have you had him?”
“Ever since I was a little girl.”
“Well, I can tell he’s a faithful friend. Just like Girl.”
She nodded.
“Would you like me to leave the hallway light on so you can see if you need to get up?”
She nodded.
I moved the hair off her forehead and squeezed her hand. I turned the bedroom light off and closed the door halfway. “I’m in the next room if you need me,” I said, peeking around the door.
She lifted her head off the pillow. “Could you leave the door open big?”
I opened the door all the way and moved toward my room.
“Could you come sit here?”
I stood inside the door of her room.
She pointed to the chair beside the bed. “Could you sit right there till I fall asleep?”
I tucked the blankets around her again and sat down.
She patted the side of the bed. “Could you sit here instead?”
I sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand.
She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. “Could you lay down on the bed?” she asked with her eyes closed.
I paused for a moment; I was fully dressed. I didn’t even like to take a nap in my clothes because of the terrible creases it made.
She looked up at me; I was taking too long to make such a simple decision. There was nothing I could do. Emily was afraid. I took off my shoes and lay down next to her, resting my hand on her arm.
“I’ll stay here all night if you want me to,” I said. I looked at her and she nodded as a small tear fell down her cheek. I didn’t say anything. There was nothing I could say that would bring Emily’s mother back or provide any understanding of what had happened. I wiped the tear away and prayed that God would provide a home full of love for this beautiful little girl, and after her breathing grew heavy, I fell asleep.
Nathan Andrews stuck his head out of the attic opening. “Lights,” he said, reading the side of the box. His wife, Meghan, stepped onto the ladder and climbed up to get closer to the box. “Don’t climb up here,” Nathan scolded.
“I can’t reach it,” Meghan said.
Nathan’s body filled the attic entrance. “Then I’ll climb down.” He held the box on his shoulder as he stepped down the ladder toward Meghan then handed it to her. “Careful, it’s heavy,” he warned.
Meghan reached for the box and rolled her eyes. “This might weigh five pounds,” she said, placing it on the garage floor. She put her hand on top of her swollen belly.
“What’s the matter? Are you tired?” Nathan asked, climbing the ladder.
“I’m just standing here waiting for you,” Meghan said.
“Is the baby all right?”
“Yes! It’s just bored because we’ve been waiting so long for you to hand down what few Christmas boxes we have up there!”
“Don’t call my boy an it. That’s offensive.”
Meghan smiled. “What if this baby isn’t a boy?”
Nathan looked through the attic opening. “Didn’t you say he jumped the other day when we were watching football?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts about it. You’re about to give birth to a cardcarrying Steelers fan!”
Meghan shook her head.
“Garland and wreaths coming down,” Nathan yelled. He threw the box and it landed at Meghan’s feet. “Ribbon and tinsel.” Another box landed on the garage floor. “Fragile,” Nathan said of the next box, watching Meghan’s reaction. “Nativity.”
“Don’t throw that one!” Meghan screamed, stretching her arms up toward the box.
Nathan laughed and climbed down, closing the attic hatch. He bent down and started carrying boxes into the front yard. “Don’t carry anything heavy,” he said, looking at Meghan over his shoulder.
Meghan rolled her eyes and picked up a box marked “Lights.” They had wanted to decorate the outside of the house sooner but Nathan’s hours at the hospital kept them from it. His third year of residency in pediatric cardiology kept him busier than expected at times. Meghan didn’t mind his schedule. She kept busy teaching and coaching high school track and when she could she worked on preparing the baby’s room. She was due the first week in January and couldn’t wait to be a mother. When she and Nathan married on Christmas Eve nearly three years earlier they’d said they wanted to wait five years before trying to have a baby but when Meghan started to feel nauseous during her first morning class she knew that their five-year plan was changing. They didn’t know the gender of the baby and didn’t want to know until the day of delivery. “Nothing is surprising anymore,” Nathan told friends and family who would ask. “This is really the last great surprise that’s left. Besides, I already know it’s a boy.”
Nathan began to string the lights around the small shrubs in front of their duplex as Meghan opened boxes, pulling out wreaths, handmade Victorian stars, and painted wooden angels. She pulled a wad of garland from a box and began to straighten it when a small box fell to the ground. She bent over and discovered it was an unwrapped gift. She turned it over to examine it. “What’s this?” she asked, turning toward Nathan. He was on his back underneath an evergreen bush making sure each branch was covered from front to back with lights.
He peered between the branches. “Don’t know. Maybe it’s the key to the Harley you bought me for Christmas.”
“Keep holding on to that pipe dream,” Meghan said. She examined the gift and threw her hands in the air. “This is that same gift we found last Christmas. The one with no name on it.”
When Meghan discovered the gift a year earlier, Nathan had held it between his hands. He was quiet and shook his head. “What’s wrong?” Meghan had asked.
“Just amazed at how stupid I am,” Nathan said, setting the gift aside.
“Why? What is that?”
“I don’t know what it is. Four or five years ago when I was doing my emergency-room rotation a patient dropped this. I found it after my shift and said I’d find the owner and return it. You can see what good intentions have done.” He had told Meghan he would take the gift to the hospital and see if there was any way to find the owner but he never did. He thought he had thrown the gift away last year but obviously he hadn’t.
Meghan knelt down and held the gift in front of him. “Why do we still have this? I thought you were going to do something with it last year!”
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Just open it up and find out who it belongs to.”
“Yeah. I’m sure there’s a business card in there with a name and address on it,” he said, stringing lights over a branch.
Meghan put her hand on her stomach. “I hope the baby didn’t hear that.”
“What?”
“Sarcasm at Christmas.” She slid the gift into his coat pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t want it here.”
“Why not?”
“It makes me feel guilty and this should clearly be your guilt. The baby and I shouldn’t have to suffer like this.”
Nathan laughed and put the gift out of his mind. Again.
A bird flew into the window and I jumped awake. I rolled over in such a way so as not to wake Emily. It was just after eight. I hadn’t slept that late in years. Girl followed me as I crept into my bedroom and took off the clothes I had worn to bed. I put them in the laundry basket and stepped into the shower. I had no idea what I would do today about Emily but figured that since the office was closed I’d have some time to call on my foster families. I put moisturizer on my face and tried to rub out the wrinkles around my eyes that made me look older than my forty-three years but it was no use. I dressed and more or less smeared makeup on and then tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen. I opened the back door and let Girl out and then looked in the cupboards. There was no cereal. I walked to the refrigerator, hoping I had eggs; if I didn’t I wasn’t sure what I’d feed Emily for breakfast. There were two little eggs in the bin and just enough orange juice for a full glass. Perfect. That’d be enough till I got to the store.
I heard scratches at the door and knew Girl was ready to come back in. I opened the door and the branches of a spruce tree greeted me. “Are you going to ask me in?” a voice asked behind the tree.
“I never ask strange trees in,” I said.
Roy poked his head out from behind the tree. “Get out of the way!” He pushed the tree through the door and dropped it onto the floor. Girl bounded into the house and jumped over the tree.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Roy took his hat off and wiped his forehead with it. “Whew,” he said, wiping the sweat from his neck. “Either I’m out of shape or I’m out of shape. It’s one of the two.”
I smiled and looked at him, waiting for an answer.
“I had to take Jamie Kramer back to Wesley House early this morning.”
I nodded, listening. I knew he was aware of what I had done.
“I went into the office and they asked what happened to your case. The little girl you were supposed to drop off last night. I told them that one of your foster families called you on your way to Wesley House and you were able to take the child there instead. Said you must have forgotten to call and let them know.”
I leaned against the wall. “You lied?”
“I figured I must have had a good reason.” He raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t I?”
“This is her first Christmas without her mother. I know it’s against policy but for whatever reason I just couldn’t take her there last night. Not this close to Christmas.”
“I knew I had a good reason.” Roy knew it was risky but he didn’t say anything. A social worker had taken a child home years ago, long before I ever joined the department, and the child fell down the stairs of the basement and broke his leg. After that, it became departmental policy that social workers could not take a child home under any circumstances. There was just too great a risk that the child could get hurt. We all followed the policy but off the record we had, at some time or another, taken a child home for a meal or a bath or an overnight stay. Sometimes it’s just the right thing to do.