“This is so appreciated. Thank you, sir.”
“No need to thank me. I’m just the messenger. But I wanted you to know so you could just enjoy the performance. Anythingthat comes in that night will just be more lights on the tree—or whatever analogy you want to use for this season.”
“I can hardly believe it.” My breath catches as I think of how hard I’ve fought over the past few years to keep my dream alive and to make dance more accessible in this town. If I hadn’t received this donation, I would have had to take on another job to keep moving forward with my studio.
“Now, now,” Arthur protests. “From everything I’ve heard about you in this town, I think you’ve earned it.”
Something in his tone makes me realize he’s been my guardian angel all along. I’m strengthened by his encouragement. “Arthur, I recognize that this goes against the meaning of the word, but would you happen to be the anonymous donor?”
The movement on his line stops, and I know that I’ve stumbled across the truth. Grey mouths “donor” with wide eyes as I wait for Arthur’s response.
“I can’t confirm anything,” he finally speaks. “As I said, Miss Jones, it’s anonymous. But my wife and I are looking forward to your show. She has a soft spot for dancers, having been one herself once.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much. This means the world to me and to my students and their families.” I wipe my eyes. The relief of not having to worry about funding as we go into our performance is one of the best gifts I could’ve received.
“Great. From what I’ve observed, your methods may be unorthodox, Miss Jones, but I know leaders when I see them. And my granddaughter loves your class.”
My mind races. “Wait, is Nova your granddaughter?” I think of my second-level student who started with me just this year and lives to dance. I’d never put together the pieces that she could be related to Arthur.
“The very one,” he says with a softened voice. “And we love to see her and her friends happy. Again, Merry Christmas, Miss Jones. Enjoy your holiday.”
“I will, sir. Thank you so much.”
He hangs up, and I rise to do a series of turns across my living room floor. Resin barks happily, and I jump about.
Grey follows, joining in the fun even though she still doesn’t have all the details. “You got your Christmas miracle?” Grey opens her arms, and I step into them, hugging her tight.
My thoughts go to my students. My studio. The upcoming performance. My family. My best friend, whom I’m holding close. This town and its belief in me. Emmy. Jace.
“I think I got more than one miracle this year,” I confess, already anxious to tell the man I love the good news.
“Well, I’m off. We’ll open gifts later. I just wanted to drop them off and share this delicious cake with you. I’m so glad I got to be here for the good news.”
“Thanks so much, Grey. For everything.”
“Of course,” Grey says, reaching for her purse that she left on the floor near the door.
“No, Grey, I mean it.” I hold her by the shoulders and make her really look at me. It’s understood that we’re more family than friends, but she needs to understand how much she means to me. We never know how much time we have remaining with someone. I’ve learned that lesson because of Jace. “You need to know that you make my life better. There have been so many times I wanted to quit or just give up, and you’ve always found a way to make me feel important. You make me feel brave by the way that you’ve always supported me and acted like my dreams are never out of reach. Your words have always meant something special to me. I know you have your own heartache, but I hope my friendship has made your life easier just as you’ve done with mine.”
Grey wraps me up in a hug so tight I’m nearly unable to breathe. “Thank you, Ivy—for being my friend and showing me what true friendship really means. You know I’ll never forget it. Never could.”
We release each other just as her phone goes off. “That would be my dad. I need to get back to the shop. We’re opening for a few hours for last-minute gifts, and I need to deliver my books! But I love you! I’ll see you tonight!”
She leaves, and it’s just Resin and me. Reaching for my phone, I text Jace that I have good news and get a series of emojis back that make me laugh. Collapsing onto the couch, I breathe out a heartfelt thanks when I feel Resin’s cold nose on my hand.
“Hi, my love bucket.” His trusting eyes stare into my soul, searching me out. I pat the couch and stretch myself out so he can lie on it facing me. He settles in, a position we’ve snuggled in so many times before when I’ve been heartbroken or moving through disappointment. “I love you, Resin.”
He shifts closer as if in response, and I could cry at his innocence. This dog has loved me when I needed him to with no questions asked. He’s been there with me through so many tears over the past years. I wish I could keep him close to my side forever, but even if I can’t, he’ll always be a part of my story, and I’ll have been most of his.
“Thank you, love bucket.” I alternate between petting his face and wiping my tears. His loving eyes regard me wisely, as if he knows he’s been everything I’ve needed. “You’ve been there for me through every moment. And I can’t thank you enough.” I hold on to his front paw as he settles deeper into the cushion.
“Now, I know you already love Jace.” His ears perk up at the mention of the name. “And Emmy.” Another flick of his ear. “Yes, well, I just need you to know that even though there maybe another man in my life, you’ve been the steadiest one I’ve ever had. Just like I told Grey, I’ll never forget it.”
He makes a little sound of comfort, the one he uses when he’s happy, a mix between a moan and a contented sigh. And while our lives may be changing, and we’re adding more love to our duo, there’s nothing like a pet who becomes part of your heart and your life. So, for Christmas Eve morning, we fall asleep together on the couch for old time’s sake.
∞∞∞
“Truly He taught us to love one another; His law is love and His gospel is peace.”
