“I’m so sorry,” Maddie said.
“The girls have been through a lot. I don’t want to move them again and cause them even more upheaval unless I have to, so I’ve been looking for work in this area, but no one seems to be hiring at the moment, what with the holidays coming up and all.”
“I work at Abbott College,” Leo said. “I’ll call the HR department for you.”
“And I can ask my mom and dad if they know of any job openings.” Maddie’s father was the town’s family doctor, her mom his part-time office manager. If someone dropped a gum wrapper in Merryweather, they knew about it. “Now, how about we go over the wish list you submitted?” Maddie pulled the Mission:Christmas folder from her purse. “That way, we can make sure to prioritize everything that’s most necessary.”
Later that night, Leo sat in the glider rocker in Charlie’s room, Charlie on his lap, reading aloud the third of Charlie’s three nightly board books. Kids liked routine. If Leo tried to read fewer than three or more than three books, he’d live to regret it.
He set the book aside and turned off Charlie’s Thomas the Tank Engine lamp. Then he pushed the glider back and forth as he said a prayer and sang “Jesus Loves Me.”
He was a terrible singer. But again, “Jesus Loves Me” was part of the routine. Routine trumped skill.
He set Charlie’s sound machine to babbling brook, made sure the night-light was illuminated, then laid Charlie in his toddler bed with his stuffed dog and blanket.
“I love you,” Leo whispered. He kissed Charlie’s forehead.
Outside in the hallway, he drew in a deep breath and consciously forced his shoulders down. Charlie had been twice as fussy and twice as energetic this evening as Leo had had the ability to deal with.
Leo walked into a living room that had become a battlefield of toys. The kitchen was overflowing with the ingredients and utensils he’d used to make dinner.
His spirits sank.
For months after Olivia had died, when Charlie had woken up in the middle of the night crying, when it had been time for them to start cooking dinner, when theNBC Nightly Newscame on, he’d looked for Olivia.
Sometimes he’d rolled over in bed to nudge her. Sometimes he’d actually called her name. Sometimes he’d picked up his phone to dial her cell.
Then he’d remember with a fresh stab of pain that she was dead. He wasn’t married anymore. He was Charlie’s only parent. The only one to answer when Charlie was crying. The one to cook dinner. The one who watched theNBC Nightly Newsalone.
Thirty months had passed since Olivia’s death.
Thirty months.
The panic attacks he’d battled at the start hadn’t returned in a long time. He didn’t call out to Olivia anymore. He didn’t expect her to walk into the room. He didn’t hope for her to come to his rescue.
For better or for worse, he’d grown used to his role as single parent. It wasn’t what he’d wished for himself or his boy. Yet, it’s what was.
Leo sighed. He’d go ahead and straighten up the kitchen and living room now because putting it off until later would only make the job worse. Except . . . maybe he’d sit for just a minute—one minute—and gather some motivation first.
Leo settled onto a dining room chair, stacked his forearms on the table, and rested his head on top. An image of a darkened theater and a stage packed with sound and color grew in his mind until it blotted out all his worries and fatigue.
His parents had taken him to seeLes Misérablesfor the first time when he was ten. He was the son of two academics, and by that point in his childhood, had already been well on his way to becoming one himself. He’d been far more interested in algebra than in musicals when he’d taken his seat to watchLes Misthat day. Thus, his love of it had surprised everyone in his family, himself most of all.
He’d gone to see productions ofLes Miseleven more times since then. Of all twelve shows he’d witnessed, one particular moment from one particular performance stood out.
Several years ago, during the scene when Javert allows Valjean to escape, he’d caught sight of a woman, sitting in front of him and to the right. She was pretty. Very pretty. But it hadn’t been that—at least it hadn’t beenonlythat—which had jolted him.
Her profile had been bathed with ambient gold light from the stage. She stared at the actors as if emotionally struck. A delicate trail of tears marked her cheek. She’d visibly reacted to that scene in the exact way he’d been reacting internally.
He hadn’t said a word to her. He hadn’t needed to. That moment had been absolutely perfect just as it was. That moment reminded him that there was beauty in the world and sacrifice and grace.
Whenever he needed a reminder that he wasn’t truly alone, that others felt the way he did, he pulled that moment to the front of his mind.
He pressed to his feet and started unloading clean dishes from the dishwasher. After this, he’d text his mom and dad and sisters about donating to the garage sale he and Maddie would be holding for the Huntingtons.
Leo was busy this time of year. Final exams would soon be upon him. He had Christmas shopping of his own to think about. However, he didn’t regret signing up for Mission:Christmas. He was glad for the chance to support Kim and her daughters. And he was very glad that he’d been paired with Maddie.
Of all Olivia’s friends—and Olivia had seemed to have hundreds of friends—Maddie was his favorite. She was genuine and easy to talk to. Friendly. Intelligent. Unpretentious. He liked her independence, and he really liked how she interacted with Charlie.
