She pulls something from the fridge and sets it on the stove before turning back to me.
“You best be careful going out tomorrow, Gwen. They say there’s a snowstorm coming in tomorrow afternoon,” she informs me.
I watch as Kelsey puts down an answer on the crossword puzzle. It’s a word I can’t even pronounce, let alone know the meaning. She may not talk, and keeps to herself, but that hasn’t stopped her from being one of the smartest kids I’ve ever encountered. She’s always been that way though, even before Will passed away.
“I’ll be careful. I plan on going over early in the morning. We’ll be back before the storm hits.” I turn to Daniel. “Hey, kiddo, go make sure you have everything in your bag.”
“Okay, Mom.”
He gets up from the table with the picture and carries it over to the fridge, where he hangs it by a rectangular magnet. Stepping back, he admires his work.
“It definitely makes your fridge look more colorful,” he says nonchalantly.
Mrs. Tanner laughs. “That it does, Daniel boy. But you should know, now that you’ve started putting your pictures up there, you’re going to have to color me more. I want my fridge filled with them.”
He looks over at her and grins toothily. “I’ll color you one every time I come over.”
Mrs. Tanner watches as he walks away to gather his things. “That boy is special.”
I smile in return. “He is.” I look over at Kelsey. “They both are.”
I grab the cups the kids were using and take them to the sink to rinse.
“School’s out for the next few weeks. Any plans for the holidays yet?” Mrs. Tanner asks.
I put the cups in the dishwasher, then walk over to gather Daniel’s crayons.
“Nope. I think we’re going to just stay here. Will’s parents are in California with their daughter, Sophia, for Christmas, and, well… both my parents are gone.”
Her smile turns sad as she walks over to me and lays a hand on my arm. “Why don’t you three come here for Christmas dinner? My two kids, Kenneth and Bethany, will be here with both their families for a few days. Sara is Kelsey’s age and Cody is Daniel’s. Might be nice for them to have kids their age to hang out with.”
I look down and flip the lid closed on the crayon box. It’s the holidays that are always the hardest. This will be the third Christmas we’ll have without Will. It was always his favorite holiday, so it was a big deal for our family. The house, inside and out, was always decorated to the max. All the shelves were filled with nativity scenes, all the doorways had lights and garland, the tree was loaded with ornaments. Per Will’s request, and much to the kids’ delight, we always had some type of Christmas snack the whole month of December. Christmas Eve everyone got a pajama set and got to open one Christmas present to tide us over until the next morning. It was our tradition. I’ve tried to stick with that tradition, to bring the holiday to life for the kids, but it’s just not the same without him.
I look back up at Mrs. Tanner and offer a smile. Maybe being with more people will help distract the kids, and they’ll be able to enjoy the holiday like they are meant to.
“Can we do it the day before Christmas Eve? Emma, my best friend, will be in town and we’re supposed to have Christmas with her grandmother.”
“Absolutely. The kids will be here all of Christmas week.”
“Then we’d love to. But I insist on bringing something.”
Her answering smile makes her seem ten years younger. “You bring whatever you want. As long as you and those two precious kids are here, I’ll be happy.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Tanner. We’d be honored to spend Christmas with you and your family.”
She reaches up and pats my cheek. “Gwen, dear, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Ruth before you actually start calling me that?”
I laugh. “I don’t know. Probably many more times.”
“Well, since you’ll be spending the holiday with me, I insist that you start.”
I smile and scoop up the coloring book and crayons. “I promise I’ll try to remember.”
I walk around the table to Kelsey, just as Daniel comes back in the room with his book bag slung over his small shoulder.
I squat down beside Kelsey. “Hey, honey. You ready to go? You can help me make Mrs. Myers’ pie if you want when we get home.”
She looks at me, and I want to cry when her lips stay closed. She gives me a small nod, but that’s all. I know she’ll help with the pie. She’s a very good child, always doing what I ask without complaint. Sometimes I wish she would throw a tantrum. At least she would be showing some form of emotion. But then I feel terrible for thinking that way, because no matter how Kelsey acts, she’ll always be perfect in my eyes.
I lean over and kiss her cheek before standing. She immediately gets up, her crossword book in hand, and stands beside me. I reach out and grab her hand. It may be odd for a mother to want to hold their eight-year-old daughter’s hand when they are simply walking to the truck, but I steal as much attention as I can from Kelsey, and that includes holding her hand, kissing her head or cheek, hugging her as often as I can—anything I can get. I’m deprived of her voice, if I can help it, I won’t be deprived of anything else.
I thank Ruth once more as she holds the door open for us, promising to stop by in the next few days to have dinner.