choir.
Here it came. Aiden would misbehave. He would say something terrible.
The choir launched into a rousing rendition of “Jingle Bells” in four-part harmony.
She kept her gaze trained on Aiden, ready to jump into the fray the moment things unraveled. But nothing happened.
Aiden made no objection to the singing. In fact, he didn’t seem to be paying any attention at all.
He stood as still as one of Elbert Rhodes’s fiberglass angels, looking up at the twenty-foot blue spruce that had come all the way from Colorado. Teri glanced up but didn’t see anything amiss. Except, of course, that a star topped the tree instead of an angel. Oh, boy. Please, God, don’t let him object to the tree-topper.
The choir finished their song, and Mayor Abernathy stepped to the mic. He welcomed everyone and then introduced Reverend Timothy Lake, who said a short prayer. And then the public school kindergarten class came up to the podium, where a dummy button had been set up.
The mayor and the kids counted down. “Three, two, one…” The kids pushed the dummy button, and Clay Rhodes, well hidden behind the tree, plugged in the power.
Thousands of white twinkle lights came on and illuminated swags of gold tinsel. The crowd applauded…for the most part. Teri heard a few voices of dissent.
The mayor leaned toward Teri. “I don’t remember approving a budget for new lights.”
“You didn’t. I paid for them myself.”
The mayor gave her the stink eye.
“I’m not charging the city for them, so don’t worry.”
The mayor still looked perturbed, and it occurred to Teri that she’d probably lost this job for the foreseeable future. But it was worth it if Aiden could come to a tree lighting and not misbehave. She looked down at her son. He wasn’t really paying much attention to the tree. He was still looking up. And Tom was smiling one of those I-told-you-so smiles as he gazed right into Teri’s eyes.
For some reason, the look on his face annoyed her.
* * *
“The angel says I need to be here at midnight on Christmas Eve,” Aiden said.
Tom pulled his gaze away from Teri. “What?”
“It says I have to be here at midnight. You know, like in the song.”
“Is the angel up there?” Tom glanced up at the top of the tree. No angel, just a star.
“It was there. Didn’t you see it? It was the Methodist angel.”
Tom hunkered down, feeling the pressure on his knee. He tried to look Aiden in the eye, but the boy didn’t like making eye contact. From what he’d read, that was pretty common for kids on the spectrum. Seeing things that weren’t there wasn’t common though. Kids on the spectrum tended to be literal.
A tiny part of Tom wanted to believe that an angel would appear in the little town of Last Chance at midnight on Christmas Eve, even though believing something like that was insane. He was a doctor and a scientist. That side of him immediately began to wonder whether there was a medical reason for the boy’s visions.
But Tom, the man, was more than a doctor and scientist. Once he’d been a little boy too. And that little boy, with his strong Catholic faith, had been willing to tell anyone who would listen that his guardian angel had been with him in the darkest days of his illness. He’d never actually seen the angel though. But seeing was not necessary for believing. He’d known the angel was with him.
“Well,” he said to Aiden, “I guess we’ll have to come back here at midnight on Christmas Eve.”
Aiden nodded but didn’t make eye contact. “I have to come. The angel said it was important.”
“What angel?” Teri asked as she joined them.
Tom stood up and faced her.
“What’s this about midnight on Christmas Eve?” she asked.
“The angel,” Aiden said, “it told me I needed to be here at midnight. Like in the song. You think the angels will sing for me?”
“Maybe,” Tom said, even though Teri was giving him a deeply worried look that edged on annoyance. He’d
Here it came. Aiden would misbehave. He would say something terrible.
The choir launched into a rousing rendition of “Jingle Bells” in four-part harmony.
She kept her gaze trained on Aiden, ready to jump into the fray the moment things unraveled. But nothing happened.
Aiden made no objection to the singing. In fact, he didn’t seem to be paying any attention at all.
He stood as still as one of Elbert Rhodes’s fiberglass angels, looking up at the twenty-foot blue spruce that had come all the way from Colorado. Teri glanced up but didn’t see anything amiss. Except, of course, that a star topped the tree instead of an angel. Oh, boy. Please, God, don’t let him object to the tree-topper.
The choir finished their song, and Mayor Abernathy stepped to the mic. He welcomed everyone and then introduced Reverend Timothy Lake, who said a short prayer. And then the public school kindergarten class came up to the podium, where a dummy button had been set up.
The mayor and the kids counted down. “Three, two, one…” The kids pushed the dummy button, and Clay Rhodes, well hidden behind the tree, plugged in the power.
Thousands of white twinkle lights came on and illuminated swags of gold tinsel. The crowd applauded…for the most part. Teri heard a few voices of dissent.
The mayor leaned toward Teri. “I don’t remember approving a budget for new lights.”
“You didn’t. I paid for them myself.”
The mayor gave her the stink eye.
“I’m not charging the city for them, so don’t worry.”
The mayor still looked perturbed, and it occurred to Teri that she’d probably lost this job for the foreseeable future. But it was worth it if Aiden could come to a tree lighting and not misbehave. She looked down at her son. He wasn’t really paying much attention to the tree. He was still looking up. And Tom was smiling one of those I-told-you-so smiles as he gazed right into Teri’s eyes.
For some reason, the look on his face annoyed her.
* * *
“The angel says I need to be here at midnight on Christmas Eve,” Aiden said.
Tom pulled his gaze away from Teri. “What?”
“It says I have to be here at midnight. You know, like in the song.”
“Is the angel up there?” Tom glanced up at the top of the tree. No angel, just a star.
“It was there. Didn’t you see it? It was the Methodist angel.”
Tom hunkered down, feeling the pressure on his knee. He tried to look Aiden in the eye, but the boy didn’t like making eye contact. From what he’d read, that was pretty common for kids on the spectrum. Seeing things that weren’t there wasn’t common though. Kids on the spectrum tended to be literal.
A tiny part of Tom wanted to believe that an angel would appear in the little town of Last Chance at midnight on Christmas Eve, even though believing something like that was insane. He was a doctor and a scientist. That side of him immediately began to wonder whether there was a medical reason for the boy’s visions.
But Tom, the man, was more than a doctor and scientist. Once he’d been a little boy too. And that little boy, with his strong Catholic faith, had been willing to tell anyone who would listen that his guardian angel had been with him in the darkest days of his illness. He’d never actually seen the angel though. But seeing was not necessary for believing. He’d known the angel was with him.
“Well,” he said to Aiden, “I guess we’ll have to come back here at midnight on Christmas Eve.”
Aiden nodded but didn’t make eye contact. “I have to come. The angel said it was important.”
“What angel?” Teri asked as she joined them.
Tom stood up and faced her.
“What’s this about midnight on Christmas Eve?” she asked.
“The angel,” Aiden said, “it told me I needed to be here at midnight. Like in the song. You think the angels will sing for me?”
“Maybe,” Tom said, even though Teri was giving him a deeply worried look that edged on annoyance. He’d
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