Chapter Five
I’d leftthe porch light on, and the fireplace still warmed the living room. Myra had left hours ago and I was curled up in a blanket on the couch with the stuffed eyeball Spud had offered me forcomfort.
It was almost midnight and I couldn’t sleep. Tomorrow was Christmaseve.
The storm wasn’t lettingup.
My phone in my hand was fully charged and utterly, exhaustinglysilent.
So silent I’d turned on Ryder’s sound system and queued up a Christmas music playlist to take my mind off myworry.
It wasn’tworking.
The song switched to Karen Carpenter’s soulful alto soothing her way throughHave Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. As soon as she reached the troubles being out of sight lyrics, I couldn’t staystill.
My troubles were right here in front of me. Or, really, that was the trouble. Ryder wasn’t here in front ofme.
I got up and paced. The glittering, twinkling lights of the tree filled the room with a sense of promise, of miracles, ofmagic.
Before I could overthink it, I lay on my back and scooted under the tree. I spit a few dead needles off my mouth and wiped my face in case of spiders, then looked up through thebranches.
Bundles of tiny lights spangled the tree in a fairy field of reds, blues, green, yellows, and purples. White twinklers winked like galaxies stirred by a winterwind.
Fir needles prickled against the light, shadows coyly curled around curved-mirror ornaments that hung joyful andfat.
It wasbeautiful.
I could see how this would enchant little Ryder. It felt private, hushed,magical.
Here under the tree was a secret moment where all the hopes and wishes of Christmas hung waiting on silveryhooks.
I’d told Jean I wasn’t going to wish for snow. I’d told her I’d use my wishes for more importantthings.
I’ll Be Home For Christmasstarted, and Ryder’s promise to be here, with me, echoed through me with everynote.
So I made awish.
Please let him be all right. Please let him be safe. Please let him call me so we can laugh about this. I need to hear his voice. I need to know he’sokay.
I repeated those words, over and over until the songended.
And then my phonerang.
I scuttled out from under that tree so fast, I nearly tipped itover.
“Are you okay?” The words were out of my mouth almost before I’d swiped the screen to accept thecall.
“Hey, beautiful.” Ryder’s words were a little slow, like he’d had one too many drinks. “MerryChristmas.”
“Where are you? Are you okay? Are you drinking?Drinking?You better not bedriving.”
I couldn’t hear any noise in the background, which was a littleweird.
“So, change in plans.” He cleared his throat, which turned into a hard rattling cough. “There’s been.Change.”
“Where are you?” I jogged over to my laptop, pinging Jean, who was on dutytonight.
Her face appeared in a little box on my screen. “What’swrong?”
