Shaddyr's Eclectic Collection > Pretender Fanfiction > Liz Shelbourne > Brick by Brick
Brick by Brick
Christmas was fast approaching. The next day, Caitlin invited Jarod to come along tree shopping with her and her mother, and he happily accepted. Tree shopping, he was informed, was filled with tradition. Hannah only bought long needle trees, only at one particular place, and only at night. The fact that the night happened to be colder and darker than the day made the trip that much more special and very good excuse should the tree turn out to be less than perfect in the light of day.
Climbing out of the car at the brightly-lit tree lot, Hannah zipped up her daughter’s jacket and tied a bright scarf around her face. When she was finished, the only part of the little girl visible was her wide eyes as she gazed at the innumerable trees. She waddled off as Hannah grabbed gloves out of her pockets and slipped them on.
Jarod hunched his shoulders into his leather jacket and shoved his hands into the pockets but he couldn’t prevent the shiver that crept up his back. Hannah reached her arm through his as they trudged after the pink marshmallow form ahead.
She felt him shivering. "You know, for a genius, you’re not very bright when it comes to cold weather. Fashionable, but not bright. My coat may be old as dirt, but at least it’s warm."
"I didn’t plan on being around long enough for it to get really cold. Someone convinced me to stick around."
"Well then someone will just have to take you shopping so that you get yourself some decent outerwear. You won’t last long with that jacket around here."
Jarod was thoughtful as Hannah released his arm to inspect a short round tree that bore a remarkable resemblance to the little girl who had picked it out. Both of them were talking about a future that just a few days ago had seemed impossible. The warmth he felt inside was almost enough to chase away the chill that had settled in his bones, but not quite. Tomorrow they would definitely be going shopping.
That Saturday Hannah had planned to take Caitlin out to see her parents for a visit and dinner. They lived half an hour away in a renovated farmhouse on the edge of the suburbs, she explained to Jarod, in an area that had not yet been extensively developed. Would he like to come along?
Jarod accepted the invitation gladly, then spent the next half-day in trepidation. He was not sure exactly what Hannah had told her parents about him, although he was reasonably certain she would not tell them about his life at the Centre unless she had asked him first. All thoughts of this aside, he realized that he was really just nervous about meeting Hannah’s parents for the first time. Once again, he had no experience, no simulation to guide him.
His fears were quite unnecessary, however. It was obvious where Hannah had learned her positive outlook and her down-to-earth values. Her parents greeted them at the door of the aged farmhouse with their old golden retriever, and eagerly invited them in. They were thrilled to see their granddaughter and gracious toward their new guest. The early afternoon passed quickly as they recounted stories of Hannah’s child hood while they sat at the kitchen table watching her mother finish a pie.
Caitlin failed in a valiant attempt to get out of a nap and was bustled off to the guestroom by her grandmother. Given the opportunity, Hannah reached for a leather leash hanging near the back door and called for the dog. She then found Jarod in the den, talking with her father.
"Dad, is it all right if I take Sandy for a walk. It’s not too cold for her, is it?"
Her father looked at the dog, now white around its muzzle. "No, I think she’s got a few walks left in her, it’ll probably do her some good. She doesn’t get a lot of exercise around here."
"Can I take Jarod for a walk, too? That is, if you’re done interrogating him." Her eyes twinkled at her father.
"I’m not interrogating him at all,’ he retorted in mock defense.
Jarod stood up and joined her. "He hadn’t even mentioned truth serum yet."
Hannah laughed and walked over to the hall closet where their coats hung. "You have to be careful with him. He sent more than one prospective boyfriend scurrying away with his tail between his legs."
"Now you tell me."
Outside, the air was crisp and dry. The light snow that had fallen the night before had melted wherever the morning sunshine had been able to find it. They started down the road with the dog pulling gently but persuasively on Hannah’s arm.
"She knows where we’re going. There’s a big farm over the hill, they’ll have cut most of their hay by now, but there are plenty of places between the fields were the grass grows high and little wild creatures live. She doesn’t find them too often, I don’t think she’d know what to do if she did, but there are smells galore and enough room for her to run."
They walked in a comfortable quiet for the quarter mile to the fields, their breathing and the snap of the dogs nails on the asphalt all they could hear. When they reached the field, Hannah let the dog off her leash and she darted out into the cut grass. They followed at a leisurely pace over the rough terrain.
Hannah seemed content to listen to the sounds around her, the rustle of the winter breeze through the leafless trees between the fields, the call of a group of tardy Canadian geese, the chipper of a squirrel sent up a tree by the dog. The wind brushed her hair back off of her face and touched her cheeks with a pink glow. Jarod looked at her and thought how beautiful she was.
Following the dog as it crashed through a copse of overgrown bushes at the edge of a stand of trees, they emerged into a valley at the foot of a low hill. In the valley, a spring fed pond was laced with ice at its edges, the middle of it a still pool of reflection. In it, Jarod could see the shapes of the pines trees that grew upon the hill, in the background a huge elm, still stately even in its nakedness. The dog ventured to the edge of the pond and tentatively stepped in.
"Do you want her going in there when it’s so cold?" Jared asked.
Hannah glanced at her old companion. "She knows what she’s doing. If it’s too cold for her, she’ll just get her feet wet, but if she wants to go in, there’s nothing you or I could do to stop her."
Jarod watched as the dog stepped into the water only far enough to drink then backed out and moved off in search of another smell. He partially unzipped the new heavy jacket he was wearing, with all the walking it had become too warm.
"It’s really beautiful around here."
Hannah smiled back at him from a few paces off. "Later on this winter we can ice skate on the pond. The farmer keeps it plowed."
"Is this all his land?" They had been walking for almost an hour, granted in less than a straight line as they followed the dog.
"This belongs to another farm, but my dad says the owner might be selling it soon. It’s too expensive to farm here now, there’s so much more to be made from developing the land. It’s too bad, I hate to see this place turned into another subdivision." She surveyed the fields to her left and right. "It’s quiet here. You can’t find that much anymore."
Jarod also looked over the land. It was quiet, a natural quiet that was completely different from the unearthly silence that had often invaded the Centre at night, and so opposite the bustle of the cities he had most recently been in. It reminded him of the tribal lands out west that he had visited, silent, sacred places that refreshed one’s spirit.
The sun was going down as they headed back to Hannah’s parents’ home, and the wind was brisker. The dog now seemed contented to walk alongside them on the road as they held each other’s gloved hands.
"Why did you pick me," Hannah asked unexpectedly. "You know, to come and do your justice thing to, why me?"
Jarod glanced over at her. Her curiosity seemed genuine, there was no hidden meaning to her words that her could detect, no attack on his motives. Still, he was uncomfortable talking about the reason he had come into her life.
"I guess I wanted to get away from some of the violence I’d been seeing lately," he explained. "So many times people were getting beaten up or shot, it was getting to me. I was doing some of the beating and the shooting. I thought that with you, I could do my job without any bloodshed, maybe help somebody out without someone else getting hurt."
"Physically, you mean."
He understood her meaning. "Yes, physically hurt. I didn’t understand my capacity to hurt people other ways. I do now."
"You hold an awful lot of power in your hands, deciding peoples fate like that."
Jarod didn’t reply immediately. A simple thought spun around in his mind. ‘I decide who lives and dies.’ The mantra that had driven his brother, driven him until his death. "I hadn’t been wrong until this time."
Hannah spun around in front of him, still holding one hand but walking backwards so that the wind pushed her hair back off her face. Her eyes sparkled at him, teasing. "It must be tough to be so close to perfect."
She had a talent for breaking his somber mood, forcing him out of his self-doubt with her humor. He responded in kind. "Oh, it is."
Hannah laughed at him and he grasped her other gloved hand to pull her close. He wrapped his jacketed arms around her and they stood quietly on the side of the road as the wind brushed through the long grasses around them.
"You know that you’re the only perfect thing in my life."
Looking up into Jarod’s face, she could see the solemnity of his words. "You’re going to make me cry if you continue, and the tears will freeze to my face. How are you going to explain that to my father?"
He picked her up by the waist, suddenly, easily, and spun her around in the air. She reacted with an eruption of childlike giggles.
"I am so happy." He spun her around once again. "You make me so happy. I didn’t know it could be like this, I feel like I could burst."
"Aaah!" Hannah screamed in mock horror. "Put me down, put me down!"
They were driving back later that night while Caitlin struggled to stay awake in the back of the car. Hannah let out a sigh. "I think that went well."
"You do?"
"Oh, sure. My dad likes you, and my mom thought she had died and gone to heaven when you started talking recipes with her. This varied life of yours can sure come in handy."
"I enjoyed your parents, too. They’re very down-to-earth people. You’re lucky to have a family like that."
"I’m glad you liked them, because we’re invited over for Christmas dinner next week. It's tradition. My sister comes in from Chicago and we exchange gifts and eat way too much food. My parents asked if you would be coming along. That is, if you want to come."
"It sounds great. Especially the too much food part."
"Well," Hannah started, "If that sounds good, then you will want to go over to Arthur and Fiona’s on Christmas Eve. That’s another tradition, complete with too much food."
"Christmastime seems like a busy time of year for you. I imagine if I don’t come along, I won’t get to see much of you and Caitlin."
"Oh." She sounded crestfallen. "I’m sorry, I thought that you would want to see them, I never thought to ask if you had other plans."
Jarod reached across the seat and grasped her hand. "Of course I want to see them, where else would I go? You are all the family I have right now. It wouldn’t be Christmas without you."
The phone rang at Sydney’s desk late that evening, he answered it immediately and was relieved to hear his protégé’s voice.
"Hello, Sydney. I’m a little surprised to find you there."
"My work is never done, you know that, Jarod. Besides, if I am going to be gone for a while, things need to be finished before I go."
"Then you’re still taking time off, even though Jacob is gone."
Sydney sighed audibly, remembering his late brother, how he had visited him every year at this time. "Yes, I think that I should. After a year, my soul needs refreshing. You sound better than the last time we spoke, have you been able to work things out with your friend?"
"Yes, that’s why I’m calling. I need a favor."
"Of course," the older man offered. "If I am able to."
There was silence full of decision. "I need you go to Parker and make a deal for me."
Sydney was instantly anxious. "What are you talking about, Jarod? What kind of deal?"
"I need time, Sydney, I need time where I don’t have to worry about looking over my shoulder every ten minutes. I need time to devote to one thing without watching out for Miss Parker and a sweeper team. I need six months, just six months where they leave me alone. I’m not going to look for my parents or do anything against the Centre, I just want half a year to myself."
"And if they were to grant you this time, what then?"
"Then I’d come in, on my own."
The decisiveness of the words shook Sydney’s reasoning. "Do you know what you are saying, Jarod? I can’t do that. I can’t allow you to throw away the rest of your life for six months of freedom."
Jarod was adamant. "You were willing to keep me locked up in the Centre for my entire life just a few years ago, Sydney. You were part and parcel to my imprisonment for thirty years. Now it’s my decision, and this is what I want, I want six months. Will you do this for me or not?"
"I don’t know, I don’t even know if they would accept your offer. I have to think about this. Nothing will happen over the holidays, Miss Parker is out of town, as is half of the upper echelon here."
"Sydney, this is important to me."
"I know Jarod. My heart understands but my mind wonders if it, if she is worth your entire future."
"Oh, she is, but you don’t need to be worried about that. I said that I would come in to the Centre, I never said that I would stay forever."
Sydney seemed somewhat pacified. "They will try to keep you here, as hard as they have tried to find you."
"They’ve been one step behind me for three years, I don’t think that they have the advantage on me yet. Don’t worry, Sydney, I know what I’m doing. Will you make the offer?"
He conceded. "When I return, I will see what I can do, if you still feel the same way."
"Thank you, Sydney. That means a lot to me. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, Jarod, and to your special someone."
Tuesday afternoon, John Dawson once again appeared just behind the bench as the coaches timed and critiqued the players on the court. They exchanged brief pleasantries before Jarod roamed out onto the hardwood to introduce a variation on what they were doing.
The drill Jarod had created involved every one of the players on the court and then some. Dividing the boys into teams, Jarod found himself one short. He motioned the other coach over. "I’m one shy, and both of us are going to be needed to keep things in order. Do you think," he nodded his head toward the bleachers, "maybe we could get him to help out?"
Coach D’amico glanced over at the lone figure sitting on the wooden bench. "You can ask him but I doubt it. I’ve tried to involve him before and he just gave me some smart-assed answer."
"I’ll take my chances." Jarod walked over to the side of the court.
And walked back a minute later, followed by John Dawson. Although he was still dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, he took his place with one group. Jarod started the drill.
An hour later, the team sat wearily on the bench, listening with half an ear to their coach’s pre-game analysis of the last team they were to play before Christmas. Jarod noticed that the younger Dawson sat with the other boys, his shirt off, his hair matted with sweat. He was the only one who was paying full attention to Coach D’amico; he absorbed the talk of opponents and strategy as if it were water to a thirsty man.
Afterward, he once again met Jarod in the coach’s office, sitting back in one of the chairs with casualness born of familiarity. "You’re lucky I was there today to help you out. That crazy drill of yours would never have worked if I wasn’t there."
"I could have stepped in," Jarod countered.
"Yeah, and I’ve seen you handle a ball." He laughed, but not with his previous maliciousness. "I should be coaching you."
Jarod reached behind his desk and picked up a bag. He tossed it to the youth. "Here. Merry Christmas."
John opened the bag cautiously, pulling out a basketball jersey. "I thought you said it didn’t matter to you if I played or not?"
"It doesn’t matter to me, it matters to you." He leaned across the desk. "You’re right, you father pushed you too hard, and now he’s dead and everybody wants you to step into his shoes. That’s no reason to play. But you love the game, and you miss it, just like you miss your dad. You can’t bring him back, but you can still play. Give yourself permission to do what you love, not for anybody else, but because you want to do it."
"I don’t know."
"You don’t have to decide now. The fact is, I talked to Coach D’amico and you’re not eligible for this year any more, but you can still practice with the team, and next year you’ll start. Maybe you can even teach the other guys a few things in the mean time, maybe even help me out."
"I’ll think about it." He picked up the bag. "Thanks. Merry Christmas."
Jarod knew he had gotten through, the boys face had fallen when he had learned he would not be playing this year, but he had perked up again when he knew he could still practice. Even with his protestations of "thinking about it," he knew that it was only a matter of time before John Dawson was back on the court. "Merry Christmas, John."
Christmas Eve at the Coneely house was an old-world celebration. A huge tree filled half of the large living room, a Yule log burned in the flagstone fireplace and a goose roasted in the oven. The tree sat upon a small mountain of gifts, most of them for Caitlin. Father Paul was once again invited and he greeted Hannah and Jarod with cups of rich, homemade eggnog.
When they sat down to dinner this time, Jarod looked around the table not in envy as before but in satisfaction. The people around him had accepted him into their family even though he was taking the place of their late son in Hannah and Caitlin’s life. He thought of the depth of the love that the Coneely’s had for their daughter-in-law, then realized happily that it now extended to him. The edges of the hole in his heart where his family should be softened and hurt a little less.
After dinner, Hannah helped her mother-in-law clear away the dishes and Grampa took Caitlin to visit the train room before they opened the gifts. The remaining two men moved off to the living room.
Jarod looked at the priest with expectant eyes. "What do you think? About our discussion on Tuesday, is it possible? I know Hannah’s faith means as much to her as she means to me. Can it be done?"
The priest twirled the ice cubes that remained in his glass. "You’ve told me some of your story, Jarod, and I believe you, even if you can’t tell me it all. I understand your feelings, but I care about Hannah and I don’t want to see her hurt any more. You have only known each other a short time, and, honestly, I was worried about how rapidly your relationship was developing, about the real depth of your affections for each other.
"She came to see me on Wednesday, you know, for confession before Christmas. We got to talking afterward, about you and Caitlin. You know, even though I’ve known that woman for years, sometimes she still surprises me. She’s worried about you, about your safety here. She’s afraid that you are endangering yourself by staying here too long, that you are here because you don’t want to hurt her again, even if you are putting yourself in jeopardy by doing it. Jarod, she loves you enough to let you go, even to push you away if necessary.
"What about you, are you willing to risk everything to be together?"
Jarod thought about what the other man had told him. Hannah’s fears had been laid out before him in a way that she would never do; her pride would have prevented it. Her concern for his safety touched him anew. That she loved him so deeply she would sacrifice her own happiness for his freedom filled him with a new found wonder of the woman he realized he was just beginning to know.
Would he risk everything for her? "No," he replied. "No, I wouldn’t, not everything. Myself, yes, my freedom, but not everything. Not Caitlin, not Hannah’s safety. My feelings are not as important as their lives."
Father Paul smiled in satisfaction. "That was the answer I was looking for. A man in the throes of infatuation would have said yes, your response, well, let’s just say that it shows me something else.
"I’ve never been what you call a traditional priest, Jarod. I think that every situation warrants its own response and sometimes the Church doesn’t have all of the answers. I’m also not infallible, and this one will take some praying over."
"I understand, Father."
The priest rose and put his glass down on the coffee table. "I’ve got to be getting back to the church to prepare for Midnight Mass. Are you going to be coming?"
"Hannah invited me. She said that we could take turns holding Caitlin when she falls asleep."
"That sounds like a good idea." He smiled at the thought. "Why don’t you come see me in the narthex afterward, I’ll give you my answer then."
Offering his good-byes to his hosts, the priest left. Jarod found himself standing at the large window next to the oversize Christmas tree, looking but not seeing the snow-covered scene before him.
"Hey there," Hannah came up behind him, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. "See any elves out there? It is Christmas Eve."
"No, not yet. It might still be early." Jarod put his arm around her shoulders and drew her body close to his. He could smell the subtle fragrance of her shampoo as he leaned over to kiss the top of her head.
"What’s that for?"
"For you. For being you." He pulled her a little tighter and looked out the window once again.
They walked carefully into the apartment trying not to disturb Caitlin as she dozed slumped over Jarod’s strong shoulder. According to her mother’s instructions, he carefully removed her jacket and shoes and laid her in the tiny bed. Hannah would come in soon and attempt to coax her sleeping form into pajamas.
They met again in the living room as Hannah pushed now-opened packages under one side of the tree. She had plugged in the lights when they had come in, and they now played their delicate luminescence across her features. Jarod took off his coat, then helped her up from the floor. He wrapped his arms around her waist while she laid her hands flat across his chest.
"You look beautiful tonight," he complimented truthfully. She wore the same creamy dress that she had worn for Thanksgiving, but now had accented it with a silk scarf over one shoulder, attached with a Celtic design pin. It had been a gift from the Coneely’s a few years before.
She tried to turn her head away in embarrassment, but he caught her chin to prevent it. He leaned down to kiss her, at first gently, but then with more and more fervor. She responded in kind, one hand sliding up along the smoothness of his shirt to reach behind his neck.
He moved to kiss her neck, soft and warm beneath his lips. He could feel her body rise and fall as her breathing deepened, felt the heat of her hands where they touched him. The essence of her cologne was a natural, intoxicating scent that made his head spin.
With an effort that took every bit of his reserve, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away. The look in her wide eyes echoed the feelings swimming through his thoughts: frustration, fear, relief.
It was a moment before either of them spoke, when she did, Hannah sounded unsure of herself. "You’d better get going. Caitlin is likely to be up pretty early tomorrow and we both could use some sleep."
"You’re right, I should get going." He moved toward the door. "Hannah?"
She turned at his call, her eyes still wide.
"You know I want to be with you.
"I know," she said warmly. Jarod had been respecting her morals, even as she was about to give up on them. "I love you."
"I love you, too. Merry Christmas."
Christmas morning dawned bright and much too early for Hannah. As they had agreed the night before, when Caitlin awoke, she tip-toed into her mother’s room and as gently as a three year old could, shook her mother’s shoulder. Hannah responded with a low groan and pulled the little girl up to snuggle in her bed, hoping to get a few more minutes of rest. She didn’t.
Once she had donned her robe and slippers, and sent Caitlin into her room for the same, they walked together out into the living room. Hannah was puzzled when she saw the Christmas tree lights on from the hallway – she could have sworn she had unplugged them the night before. When they rounded the hall corner, it was not only the lights that surprised them. The tree stood where it had the night before, but now, miniature train tracks circled around it and the piles of gifts that lay underneath. There were certainly more than there had been when she went to bed. As they both drew near, a tiny train emerged from behind the tree and puffed its way through its route.
Hannah saw the expression of astonishment and delight on her daughter’s face and knew that her own looked the same. "Oh, Mommy!" Caitlin squeaked. "Santa brought me train just like Grampa’s."
Hannah looked over the numerous wrapped boxes, picking up an occasional one to shake it as a child does before opening it. She tried to guess what treasure lay inside and giggled with delight as she deciphered a few of the sounds.
Caitlin found it hard to decide which gift to open first and the little choo-choo pulled her attention away constantly. Half an hour later, she had unwrapped only three of the boxes when a knock sounded at the door.
Expecting just such an occurrence, Hannah had changed into jeans and a sweater and brushed her hair out. She opened the door, but did not allow Jarod through.
"What?" he asked, then followed her pointing finger up to the kissing ball hanging over his head. He claimed his prize gratefully and was allowed into the room.
He put a brightly colored box down on the kitchen counter. "This is for you. You need to open it now."
Hannah did not reach for the box. "Don’t you think you’ve done enough? Santa is grateful for the help you gave him this year, I don’t think that you need to be giving me anything more."
"Open it," he commanded. "Now."
She carefully pulled the lid of the box up. Inside it was an expensive hand-held video camera.
"I didn’t see one of those around." Jarod explained. "I thought it would be nice to get some video of Caitlin opening her presents. Then, later, you can record her growing up so I can see, if-"
Hannah didn’t let him finish the sentence, putting a finger over his lips. They both knew what he meant. "Thank you," she whispered, snuggling into his chest, holding the camera to her own. They stood that way for a few minutes, watching the little girl who meant so much to them both.
Jarod finally pulled himself away. "Listen, you start recording her, I have a few more things back in my apartment that I want to bring over."
"More?" Hannah asked, incredulous, but he merely winked at her and headed out the door.
A few minutes later, he returned, his arms filled with two rectangular boxes, one large and one huge. "These are last," he announced. He set them near the tree and sat down next to Caitlin to help her extricate a baby doll from its cardboard cradle.
Together, she and Jarod spent the next hour tearing through the bright packages under the tree while her mother videotaped. At one point, Hannah set the camera down to start on breakfast, and Jarod followed her into the kitchen alcove.
"So," she said, stirring cocoa mix into three mugs. "How did you get the train going, and the lights on the tree? They weren’t on all night."
Jarod reached for a mug. "Motion sensors. I put one at the bottom of Caitlin’s door, I figured that she would be up before you."
"And how did you know when we were up, or was that a lucky guess."
"Another motion detector, connected it to a miniature radio that sent a signal to my place. I put it on your bedroom door yesterday after I put Caitlin in bed."
"You wired my bedroom?!"
He gave her an embarrassed grimace.
"And I imagine you picked my lock?"
"You said yourself that my varied past came in handy. But I did it for a good reason, just look at her."
Hannah rolled her eyes at him, and then reached into the drawer at the end of the counter to pull out a small white box tied in ribbon. "Here. Don’t pick my lock any more."
Jarod pulled the two ends of the ribbon and they fell away from the box. He lifted the top off. Inside, a single key lay nestled in cotton. He pulled it out.
"Does this mean what I think it means?"
She nodded. "If you want. I mean, we can see how it works. Besides, I have one for your place, I thought it was only fair."
Jarod understood that she was using her sarcasm to cover up what had been a very major decision for her. "Thank you," he said solemnly.
Two hours later, the majority of the gifts had been replaced under the tree and the wrappings that they had come in had been collected up. With a bit of bargaining, they had convinced Caitlin to eat breakfast with them at the table.
Jarod rose from his chair as they finished and retrieved the two boxes that he had brought in earlier, placing the larger one on the floor in front of Hannah. He helped the little girl climb down from her booster seat and held the bottom of her box while mother and daughter simultaneously pulled the tops off.
"Oh, Jarod, it’s gorgeous!" Hannah reached into the box and carefully pulled the burgundy velvet material out. It continued to emerge from the box until a full-length coat hung in front of her, complete with a wide hood and fur trim. "It’s like something from a movie!"
Faced with an unknown, Caitlin had watched her mother carefully and imitated her actions. She held a smaller version of the coat up in front of her. "Oh, Mommy, I got one too!"
Hannah carefully pulled the coat on and drew the collar up around her face to luxuriate in the deep pile of the velvet and the softness of the trim. "It’s exquisite. Where in the world did you ever find anything like this?"
Jarod helped Caitlin into her own coat so that she too could snuggle into the hood like her mommy. "I had them made. I wanted you to have something special to wear today."
"Special? I may never take it off." She pulled the hood up over her hair and looked down to where the coat skimmed the top of her shoes. She stepped out into the living room and twirled around, sending the wide skirt of the coat flaring. Caitlin, of course, had to follow suit and almost spun herself into the tree before her mother caught her.
Hannah pulled the hood up on her daughter’s coat. "Aren’t we going to be fancy, sweetie, in our beautiful Christmas coats. Just wait until Gramma sees us, she’ll want to take our picture."
She moved over to the tree and reached behind to pull out a box covered in hand-made paper. She handed it to him. "It’s not quite as fancy as these are, but Caitlin made the wrapping and I made what’s inside."
Carefully, he opened the paper, trying to avoid any rips or tears. Inside, a simple shirt box opened to reveal a thick, navy blue scarf. He pulled it out of the box and hung it around his shoulders, feeling the softness of the yarn. "You made this?"
"I know, it shows. It’s been a long time since I knit anything, and, well, I didn’t have enough time to go back and fix some of the mistakes. Sorry."
"What are you sorry for? It’s perfect." He leaned over to kiss her. "Thank you."
Later that afternoon, Jarod left Caitlin and her mother to a couple of much-needed naps. All three then drove out to Hannah’s parents’ house. The weather was in a holiday mood and sent a light dry snow to cover everything in its white powder, topping off the five inches that had fallen since the week before. The farmland around the Braun house looked like something from a Christmas card. Hannah’s sister Carrie and her husband greeted them at the door and warmly invited them in.
Once inside, Hannah was proved correct. The velvet coats were alternately stroked and ogled over like some kind of new, exotic pet until her mother insisted that they go outside for a picture before the sun had gone down completely. Jarod stood off to the side as Mrs. Braun carefully moved the mother and daughter into just the right position for a perfect picture.
That accomplished, Caitlin went off with her cousins to the playroom upstairs, while Carrie’s husband Al whisked Jarod into the den. Once again, Carrie stroked the luxurious pile of her sister’s coat as Hannah struggled to fit it into the already full hall closet. "That is so beautiful. I don’t think Al would ever even contemplate getting me something like that. It wouldn’t be practical enough."
Hannah carefully closed the closet door. "Jarod told me that it’s a Christmas coat, only for the Holidays, but he does have his practical side. Caitlin’s sleeves unroll so that she can wear hers again next year."
Her sister rolled her eyes. "Romantic, thoughtful, gorgeous. Anything else I should know about? Like where you found him so I can get one?"
"He found me."
Carrie couldn’t help notice the bittersweet tone in her sister’s voice. "Is this the same guy that was giving you trouble when you came down to visit?"
"Yeah, but we worked that out. Things are going really well now."
"Well." Carrie sighed with relief. "At least I know he’s not completely perfect."
Once again, Hannah was correct in her predictions. The dinner table was overfilled with food – Mrs. Braun had spent the last two days merrily puttering in her kitchen, creating culinary delights that dazzled the eye as well as the tastebuds. Jarod was informed that she had been a food photographer for many years, as well as being a more-than-adequate chef. He complemented her on her delectable presentation.
Thoroughly stuffed, the family retired to the living room to sit around the large tree. Jarod insisted on helping Hannah’s mother clear away the food, although she did her best to shoo him away. He contended that he was happy to help, besides, there was a favor he needed to ask of her.
Caitlin was chosen to pass out the presents and she tackled the job with all the gusto of a three-year-old. As the gifts were opened, Jarod noted that each one from Hannah and her daughter was handmade or else a small, meaningful item, reminiscent of special times. He silently complemented her on her ingenuity and the values she was demonstrating to her daughter.
She was not the only one who deemed these values important. Caitlin’s grandparents enjoyed giving, but they dedicated their resources to quality, not quantity. A hand-made wreath twisted from the wild grapevine found in the woods near the farm and decorated with dried apples and oranges for Hannah, a needlepoint pillow for Carrie and hand-made dolls for the three grandchildren were evidence as to where Hannah had inherited her artistic abilities.
Jarod was not expecting the small, square box that Caitlin set in his lap. He looked up at her grandmother. "She’s right," the older woman replied to his questioning glance. "That one’s for you, from William and me and the little one."
Opening the box, he pulled out a short piece of white birch trunk, hollowed through the middle and filled with candle wax. "Caitlin picked out the wood herself," Mrs. Braun went on to explain. "Then her grandpa carved it out and poured the wax. She told me that you liked candles."
"Thank you, I do. And thank you, Caitlin, for all your hard work." He reached over to give the little girl a hug which she gladly reciprocated.
As if on cue, a spirited neighing was heard from outside. While this would not have normally been a strange occurrence at a farmhouse, everyone in the room realized that this particular farmhouse had not seen a horse in many years. Jarod held onto the little girl’s waist. "Now I have a special surprise for you and your mommy. Go get your coat on and we’ll see what it is."
She didn’t need to be told twice. Spurting out of the room, she ran to the hall closet, but could not turn the handle. Before her frustration level came too close to tears, her mother arrived, and quickly pulled both of the long velvet coats off of their hangers. Helping her daughter with her coat first, she donned her own hurriedly as they moved toward the front door where Jarod stood. Hannah’s eyes were as bright with anticipation as her child’s were. When Jarod opened the door, she picked Caitlin up and moved out onto the stoop.
Standing on front lawn, a chestnut mare turned its head to view them. She was outfitted in shiny black tack that led back to a beautiful ebony sleigh, complete with shiny runners and brass lamps on either side of the cheerful driver. Caitlin squealed with delight while her mother stood in awe.
"Shall we go for a ride?" Jarod asked.