A Mrs. Miracle Christmas(51)

Helena Joy burst into giggles. “Daddy, stop.”

    “You know how your mama wants a picture of you in front of the tree each Christmas. Cooperate.”

Helena Joy covered her mouth and giggled. “I don’t want to smile without front teeth.”

“Is that what you want for Christmas, Helena Joy?” Zach said teasingly. “There’s a song about that, you know.”

“Yes, Mama played it for me. I want to go to Disneyland more than I want my teeth.”

Laurel lowered the camera. “We’ll have to wait and see what Santa brings. Who knows, you might just get your wish.”

Their daughter’s eyes rounded. “Really?”

Zach chuckled. “You’ll just have to wait and see. Now smile!” Helena Joy announced that she hated waiting, and afterward provided a big grin for her mama.

Laurel snapped the photo and then reached for Bobby, taking him away from Zach, distracting the baby with a fluffy stuffed reindeer.

“Come on, little one, it’s time for your nap,” she said, kissing his pudgy face as he squirmed in her arms.

“I’m too old for naps,” Helena Joy stated proudly. “I go to school now.”

“Can you help your mama and lie down with your brother? He likes it when you’re in the room with him.”

    “Mama.” She groaned.

“Just today,” Laurel pleaded. With all the excitement of the holidays, Helena Joy was extra-tired and had fallen asleep at dinnertime two nights in a row. Yes, she was getting too old for naps, but there were days when she still needed one. If she lay down and was quiet for a few minutes, Laurel knew her daughter would soon be fast asleep right along with her little brother.

“Okay.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. You’re a good helper to your mama.” Helena was on her best behavior right before Christmas, wanting to make sure she was in Santa’s good graces.

“Before we know it, Bobby will be too old for naps, too.” Laurel kissed the top of their adopted son’s head as she carried him into the bedroom. He’d been placed in the local foster-care system as a newborn, and they’d taken another emotional risk to foster him in their home. Laurel and Zach loved this little boy from the start, fully aware of the potential consequences—either one of the parents could’ve claimed the child at any time, if they could prove they were drug-and alcohol-free. It took courage to take in this infant, knowing full well it might result in another loss. Within ten months’ time, the parents made the decision to fully surrender their rights to the boy.

    After Laurel got the two children settled down, Zach went in to read a book to Helena Joy, although she could have read it on her own.

When the little ones had fallen asleep, as Laurel predicted, Zach returned. She was in the kitchen stirring ingredients for a batch of gingerbread cookies. She baked them every year, just as her grandmother Helen had done.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” he said, joining her.

“What won’t I believe?”

He shook his head and she could read the reluctance in him. He wasn’t sure how to explain it himself.

“Just now, while I was reading to the children…”

“Yes?”

“You’re going to think I’m imagining things.”

“You’re not the kind of man who is delusional.” She set aside her spoon and focused her attention on him.

“I felt the oddest sensation that someone was standing at my side. I looked but there was no one there. All at once, I knew who it was. Laurel, I’m convinced your grandmother stood next to me, watching over our little ones.”

“Nana?” Tears instantly filled Laurel’s eyes. From the moment Laurel and Zach had brought the baby home from the hospital, Nana had liked nothing better than to rock the sleeping baby in her arms. Nana’s health had steadily declined after her great-granddaughter was born, and she had slipped peacefully from her life on earth and into heaven three years after Helena Joy’s birth. It was her heart. She’d never complained, never uttered a negative word. She’d accepted that her time was limited. She’d been given all that she had asked of God—to let her live long enough to hold Helena Joy.

    “I know it sounds crazy,” Zach said.

Tears clogged Laurel’s eyes. “No, it doesn’t. You know how much she loved little Helena Joy.”

“I do.”

“I never told you…” Laurel said, struggling to hold back the flow of emotion. She sniffled before she continued. “The day we brought Bobby home, I had the same experience. It was like she was there in his room. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how to explain it, how to put it into words. I guess I was afraid you’d think I was being overly sentimental or that I was just plain losing it.”

“If you’re losing it, then I guess we both are.” Zach gave Laurel a tight squeeze, then returned to the other room to watch college football.

“I miss you, Nana, more than words can say,” Laurel whispered, closing her eyes. “And Mrs. Miracle, if you’re listening, I hope you’re enjoying a cup of tea with my nana.”

    Laurel returned to the bowl of cookie dough, and for just an instant she was convinced she heard soft yet distinctive giggles in the distance—the laughter of her nana and Mrs. Miracle.