The Christmas Kite (22 page)

“I’ve waited a long time to say this.” A shy grin curved his lips. He shifted on the sofa and dug into his pocket. When he withdrew his hand, he placed a small velvet box into Meara’s palm. “Will you marry me, Meara? Both of you?” he added, looking at Mac.

Marriage? Her mind swam in confusion. He’d addled her to distraction. With her pulse skipping, she opened the box and held her breath. Gently, she lifted out the solitaire diamond set in gold. So delicate and lovely.

“You frightened me, Jordan,” she said, releasing a fervent sigh.

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

Cupping the ring in her palm, she gazed at the diamond glinting in the Christmas tree lights and blurring with her tears. With the back of her hand, she brushed the moisture from her eyes, then pressed her hand against his cheek, clutching the diamond ring in the other.

“I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say yes.”

Mac studied them, eyes shifting from Jordan to her.

Watching his confusion, Meara rose and kneeled at his side. “Mac, Jordan wants us to marry him.” She opened her hand, displaying the glistening ring. “We’d live together as a family. What should we say?”

Sensing the seriousness of the moment, Mac lifted his pensive eyes to hers, then reached out and grasped Jordan’s hand. “We say…yes, Jor-dan.”

Jordan opened his arms and gathered them to his chest. “I’m the happiest man in the whole wide world.”

“I’m happiest, too,” Mac said.

Stifling her joyful laughter, Meara kissed her son on the cheek. “And I’m the happiest woman in the whole wide world.”

Giving Meara his hand, Jordan helped her rise. He took the ring from her clenched fist and slipped it on her finger. “I love you with all my heart.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “God does know what He’s doing.”

“And aren’t we glad He does.” With tear-filled eyes, Meara looked down at Mac. Warmth and peace filtered over her, her world complete.

When she lifted her eyes, Jordan caught her chin and lowered his lips to hers. Without fear, she surrendered her love and trust to his care and to God’s faithful keeping.

Five months later

M
eara pulled into Jordan’s driveway, stepped out and slammed the car door, waiting for Mac to follow. She glimpsed the lake beyond the house, admiring the May morning sun spreading sparkling diamonds across the water. A warm breeze filled the air with the heady scent of new growth. Meara’s life had blossomed as certainly as spring had arrived. Each day something fresh and loving opened to her.

She beckoned, and finally Mac reached her side. With a single rap and “yoo-hoo,” she swung open Jordan’s back door and peered inside.

Jordan waved to her from the front porch and took a step toward her, stumbling over Dooley, who slid between his legs and bounded to greet them.

Meara chuckled as Jordan’s tall, muscular frame avoided an unexpected tumble.

“Dooley,” he yelled, but the dog bounded ahead and skidded on the linoleum to Mac’s feet, whose giggles nearly drowned Jordan’s reprimand.

The setter’s long tongue whipped out and swiped a wet kiss across the boy’s cheek.

“Dooley,” Mac said, his laughter growing. In his excitement he stumbled backward.

Meara snatched his arm and steadied him. “Looks like you were bowled over with love, Mac.”

“I love Dooley,” Mac sang. “I love Dooley.” With the dog tagging by his side, he headed for the front of the house.

Jordan watched him until he reached the screened porch, then turned to face her. “Bowled over with love?”

She laid her head against his chest. “I was thinking the same,” she said. She dropped her purse on the kitchen table and slid her arm around his waist, thinking of their wedding day, coming up in another month after Mac finished school. She’d waited a long time for that day, so near now and so perfect.

“Today’s the big day,” Jordan whispered. “Did Mac bring the kite?”

“The kite. He sure did.” She shoved her hand into her purse, then tossed Jordan her car keys.

He snatched them in the air, gave her a wink and headed for her car.

Meara wandered to the front porch. Though Mac had learned to be careful of the water, she still worried. She stood in the doorway and watched Mac roll a ball while Dooley fetched it.

Jordan returned and leaned the kite against the porch wall, then stepped outside.

Surprised Mac had forgotten about the kite, Meara followed, her heart in her throat, anticipating her son’s excitement.

Jordan neared Mac and Dooley and clapped his hands. “Okay, son, you have two choices. You can play fetch with Dooley…or do something with me.”

A scowl spread across Mac’s face and he hesitated, looking first at the tail-wagging dog, then at Jordan, as if he didn’t understand.

“Which is it?” Jordan asked.

He pondered the question a moment before he answered. “Play with Dooley,” he said.

Jordan rubbed his hands together. “Okay, then, I guess I’ll have to fly the kite by myself.”

“Kite!” Mac’s eyes widened. “Jor-dan, me. I forgot.”

Laughing, Jordan ruffled his hair. “Okay, then,
you
can fly the kite.”

“Me,” Mac yelled, bouncing in anticipation.

“Remember, I promised you could do it by yourself.”

Brushing a tear from her eye, Meara watched Jordan head back to the porch, then return with the canary-yellow kite sporting its long multicolored tail.

Flashing her a tender smile, Jordan turned and concentrated on Mac’s attempt to hang on to the kite as they moved away from the house.

“Aren’t you coming?” Jordan called.

Still tangled in pure pleasure, Meara followed them down the hill. On the sand, Jordan opened two canvas chairs, and she sank into one, nearly as excited as Mac.

Since the previous year, Mac had grown only a little in size, but much in confidence. More than she had ever dreamed. Now, hearing Jordan’s careful instruction, Meara drew her attention back to Mac. She held her breath as the boy clasped the spool of string.

Jordan waited as Mac lumbered along the beach, tilting the kite high into the wind. It lifted, and Jordan darted toward Mac. But too late. A gust caught the fabric, then died away, and the kite flitted and dipped toward the water.

Jordan dashed in for a save, grabbed the spool and ran backward on the grass, avoiding the kite’s watery grave. When it touched the sand, he rushed forward and nabbed it before it skittered into the lake.

Mac’s expression faded to one of disappointment. “No, Jor-dan.” He shook his head as Jordan approached him. “Next year. One more year.”

Gazing into Mac’s sad eyes, Jordan’s heart plummeted. He glanced at Meara, saw her worried face and gave her a brave wink, then kneeled beside the child and wrapped his arm around him. “You can do it, Mac. Now, listen again, okay?”

The child nodded and a faint “okay” fell from his lips.

Jordan began again, explaining in simple terms the tug and ease of the kite on the wind. He gave Mac the string, and he held the kite above his head, pretending he was the wind, jerking the kite one way and dipping it another.

As he listened, Mac raised and lowered his arm, giving more string and drawing back.

“Now, listen carefully. If you pull too hard, the string will break and the kite will fly away. Or it might tip down because it needs more cord. As the wind tugs, give it slack. Relax and let the wind pull it higher.”

He pulled and tugged, giving Mac the feel of the wind. “And don’t let go or the kite will fly away. Just remember, Mac, it’s give and take. Bend with the wind.”

In amazement, Jordan paused, gazing at the child and then at Meara. Love was exactly like a kite, giving and taking, tugging and subsiding, soaring and dying. Yet bending with the wind of change made all the difference. And with God, the cord was strong as steel. Gooseflesh spread down his arms. His chest tightened with awareness.

“Jor-dan,” Mac said.

He peered down at the child, his expression vacillating between anxiety and wonder.

“Sorry, Mac, you caught me thinking.” He gave the boy a reassuring pat. “This time I’ll help you until it gets up there. Okay?”

Hesitantly Mac agreed.

This time Jordan ran along the beach, his feet digging through the sand until the wind surged beneath the taut material and lifted it above his hands.

Playing with the flow and ebb of the wind, Jordan worked his way back to Mac and handed him the spool. Together, they plied the cord until the kite soared higher and higher.

Mac’s smile glowed as brightly as the blazing sun, and Jordan eased back, letting the boy control the kite. When Mac felt secure, Jordan retreated farther, and the boy guided the string alone.

“Look at our kite-flyer, Meara.”

Mac glanced their way, his face filled with new confidence. “Me,” he called. “I’m the kite-flyer.”

Meara rushed to Jordan’s side. “Just look at him,” she whispered, gazing into the sky, her face as radiant as her son’s. “Just like you the day we met.”

Jordan wound an arm around her waist, reveling in their shared joy. In another month, Meara would be his wife. Mac, his son. Though he’d turned his back on life, God in His undying love and mercy had prodded him to look toward heaven, and today he’d found a little bit of it right here in his arms.

Lifting his eyes toward the kite against the clouds, he marveled at the colorful spectacle. He nestled Meara’s warm, supple body against his side and gazed with joy at God’s special gift—his son, Mac. The kite-flyer.

1. Meara had difficult choices to make. What would you have done differently if you’d been in her position?
   
2. Do you know someone with Down syndrome? If so, does this story seem realistic? What might you have added or taken out of it?
   
3. What message or theme did you take away from this story?
   
4. What incidents or events brought Jordan Baird to his faith?
   
5. Many people have scars—they can be physical, emotional or spiritual. What scars did you find on the characters in this story? Do you have scars of your own?
   
6. How did the opening scripture, 2 Corinthians 12:9, apply to the story?
   
7. Though Meara always had faith, how did you see her faith change as the story progressed?
   
8. What was the significance of the kite-flyer in this story? Who was the kite-flyer?
   
9. Which of Mac’s qualities played the most important part in this story? What made him so endearing?
   
10. How does the poem “The Kite-Flyers” relate to this book?
    
11. The characters in this story accepted some common truths about themselves and about their faith. What is your testimony in light of this story?