A Forever Christmas

Once she had placed all the angels, she said, “Now, I need the speaking shepherd.” She glanced at her chart. “Hunter Jones.”

“I don’t want a talking part,” he said from the perimeter of the group.

To push or not to push? Some children just needed a bit of encouragement. Hunter didn’t have the look of someone seeking that little nudge. “Okay. But could you stand here for me until I can get someone else?”

He nodded and then let her lead him to his spot.

Once she had him all set, she patted his head and thanked him. His hair was like silk. Dark and straight, just like his mother’s. He had her hazel eyes as well.

A pain she’d pushed into submission for so long tried to work its way into her chest, but she wouldn’t let it. How could looking at Hunter, a reminder of Gregory and Delia’s betrayal, possibly hurt her over fifteen years later? She should have been over him years ago.

By the time she finished posing the children and working to teach them several songs, the parents started to arrive. “Children, thank you so much for working so hard today. I’ll see you next time.”

The kids played while waiting for their parents. Of course, Hunter stood off by himself. And she realized she needed to talk to Gregory about encouraging Hunter to keep his speaking role. Maybe if she kept their conversation strictly pageant-related, she could remain objective. Could remain personally uninvolved.

By the time twenty minutes passed, though, she was quickly becoming personally involved.

“See, I told you,” Hunter said.

“Come on. I’ll call your granddad.” Since Hunter didn’t know Harry’s phone number, she had to go find a directory. When she told Harry what had happened, he sighed and apologized, then said he’d be right there.

It was a sunny day and fairly mild for December, so she locked up the building and waited out front with the boys.

Harry pulled up to the curb in a couple of minutes. She walked the boys to the car. “Hi, Mr. Jones.”

“I’m sorry to delay you.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all.” The waiting wasn’t a problem, at least. But Hunter’s disappointment was.

Hunter climbed in the back of the car and buckled himself in his booster seat. “Where’s Dad?”

“I just talked to him. He got a call about taking down a dead tree.”

“But he said he would get us today.”

Sarah helped Chase in the other side and tried to guard her heart against the dejection on Hunter’s face.

“I know, son,” Harry said. “Your dad is a busy man, trying to make a living to take good care of you boys.” He twisted around to look back at Hunter. “And hey, guess what? We get to hang out together today. And you’re going to spend the night with me, so you don’t have to wake up and go to your house tonight.” Harry made a big production of looking excited.

Hunter didn’t buy it. Tears welled up in his eyes. “But I want to sleep in my bed,” he yelled, then turned his head into his seat and cried.

His pain was palpable, and she wanted more than anything to just smile and walk away. But she couldn’t do that any more than she could have walked away and skipped Peter’s funeral like her mind had screamed for her to do.

She reached across Chase to rub Hunter’s back.

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of him,” Harry said. “He’s having a hard time since Lindsay moved to Boston. She was like a mother to the kids, and we’re muddling our way through.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jones. I wish I could help.”

As they drove away, heaviness settled over her. A feeling of helplessness like she’d felt as Peter declined so rapidly.

But what could she do to help Hunter and Chase? Volunteer to be their mom?

Gregory needed to know what was going on. Surely he didn’t have any idea what his absence was doing or he would make more of an effort to be at home.

Of course, in her experience, he wasn’t very dependable. He’d flitted from her to Delia in the blink of an eye. But she liked to think he would have grown up by now.

As soon as Harry’s car turned the corner, she dug her cell phone out of her purse and called Donna Rae. “How are you feeling?”

“Bored.”

“Well, try to rest and enjoy the break.”

“Yeah, right.”

Though she didn’t want to worry Donna Rae, she knew she had to bring up the incident with Hunter. “Hey, I had a little problem with Hunter today. He refused his speaking part. Then when he found out Harry was taking him home to spend the night, he threw a fit and cried.”

“Poor little guy.”

“Do you think it’s the fact that Lindsay is gone, or is it the time Gregory’s away because of work?”

“Both, I imagine. He needs Gregory now more than ever.”

Yes, Gregory needed to know what his overtime was doing to his son. Maybe it would help if she told him about Peter. About how he’d spent most of every day at school or with a nanny. How his parents had provided all the best, but he’d had no interest in the “stuff,” had wanted only time with his mom and dad. And how his parents learned the hard way—after it was too late.

“Donna Rae, could you give me Gregory’s phone number? I think I’m going to have to talk to him.”

“Sure, hon. That’s probably a good idea.”

She jotted the numbers on a slip of paper, then after hanging up, programmed them in her cell phone.

Money, or the lack thereof, had always been important to Gregory. But it seemed he was doing fine now. Why work all that overtime for gifts that would mean nothing to the boys after the first five minutes when what was truly important could be taken away at any time?

She climbed into her car, pressed a hand against her thumping heart and forced herself to dial his cell phone.

“Gregory Jones.”

Oh, my. His deep, baritone voice had always done crazy things to her stomach. “Hello, Gregory. This is Sarah.”

“Hey, I’m sorry I was late. Did Dad get there yet?”

“Yes. But we had a little problem today, and I thought you’d like to know about it. That is, if you have a minute.”

“Can’t right now.” He huffed as if he was lifting something. “But I’ve got to run to town in an hour.”

She could visit Donna Rae and gather her thoughts. “Okay. How about meeting in the church parking lot in an hour.”

“Fine.” He cut off the connection.