Page 35 of Sugarplum Dreams
There was no doubt that he loved them.
“Good night, boys. Merry Christmas,” she said, smiling as they repeated her words.
“I guess that means it’s time for me to go. I’ll see you fellas in the morning.”
“Are you staying here tonight?” Gifford asked, sounding surprised.
“Sure am. I’ll be staying with you guys from now on. That’s what it meant when I married your mother.”
“Until you leave,” Banks said, sounding a little bit sad but mostly matter-of-fact like he knew what was going to happen, and he didn’t need Wilson to tell him.
“I’m not leaving. Not till God takes me.”
Charity knew that meant death, but she wasn’t quite sure the kids knew that.
“Like God took our dad?” Gifford asked.
“No. Your father left because he wanted to. What Wilson is saying is that he’s not leaving until God takes him to heaven. Otherwise, he’s going to be here, with us.”
Charity hoped he didn’t mind that she stepped in, but she had been afraid that was what the boys were going to assume. And they couldn’t be more wrong. She wanted to make sure that they weren’t applying what had happened to them with their dad to Wilson. And thinking that Wilson was the same kind of man, since he was not.
Water dripped in the bathroom, the leaky faucet Clancy had always said he was going to fix and never had, and it didn’t matter to Charity anyway. Whether he fixed it, whether he didn’t, it was just the idea that there were a lot of things he said he was going to do and ended up not doing. It was just one more broken promise in a whole string of them.
“Your mother’s right. That’s exactly what I meant.”
There was silence from the boys, and then Wilson said, “Good night. Merry Christmas, boys.”
“Merry Christmas,” the boys repeated together.
Charity slipped back out of the room, and Wilson walked out behind her, softly closing the door.
“The other ones are in bed?” Wilson asked.
She nodded.
“All right then. I guess our work is done. I’m going to head back downstairs. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She opened her mouth. She had thought that maybe they were going to…sit together, cuddle…kiss?
She knew it was kind of soon for that. He didn’t really know her, and maybe he would never want to kiss her. Maybe he would never be attracted to her. Not the way she was to him.
She bit back the disappointment, trying to remember what Kyra had said about being thankful for what she had and appreciating it. Maybe that wasn’t exactly what Kyra had said, but that was what she had turned it into. She had to be grateful for what she had been given and not wish for more, like a husband who thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world and admired and was attracted to her.
“All right,” she said, trying not to sound disappointed at all. In fact, she actually sounded cheerful, and she was kind of proud about that. “Merry Christmas. Thank you so much for making our Christmas extra super special.”
“I think you did the same to mine.”
He was just saying that, but it was nice of him, and she nodded her head as he turned and walked down the stairs.
She wasn’t used to not walking around checking the doors, closing up, making sure everything was turned off before she headed upstairs for the last time. But Wilson would take care of it. And he would be down there if anything happened in the middle of the night. He would be there to help her. The idea was vastly reassuring and reminded her that she had one more thing to be thankful for. She was no longer the sole adult in the house, responsible for all five children on her own. She often wondered if something happened how she was going to save all five of her kids. She finally had to give it over to the Lord because the idea scared her, because she knew she couldn’t do it.
But now she didn’t have to worry. Because of Wilson.
She walked slowly to her room, giving thanks for the Secret Saint who had provided all the gifts for her children. Their Christmas had been happy and joyful, rather than sad and disappointing. Not that material things should matter, but it was fun to give gifts and fun to receive them. And that was part of the reason they gave gifts on Christmas, because God had given them the gift of his son.
She’d never quite thought about it in that respect before, but she wondered if God enjoyed giving gifts as much as she did. If God enjoyed seeing them appreciate His gifts as much as she enjoyed seeing her children’s happy faces as they opened their presents.
Probably. Actually, she was sure that He did. He loved seeing her appreciation for what He had done for her, and it made her even more determined to make sure that she showed her gratefulness and spoke her thanks as often as she could to the Lord. After all, He had been so very, very good to her.
