A Baxter Family Christmas

  Her knees trembled. Next through the door came . . .

  “Bailey!” Maddie took a few steps forward. “Bailey Paul? You’re . . . you’re part of the Flanigan family? My Aunt Ashley’s friends? I was so young back then . . . And I guess my family missed a lot of those parties. I can’t believe this.”

  “Maddie West?” Bailey hurried over to her. “This is crazy! I had no idea you were part of the Baxter family! I haven’t been to Ashley Baxter’s house in years.”

  “Makes sense.” Maddie laughed. “There’s a ton of us Baxter grandkids.”

  The two hugged and just then Brandon, Bailey’s parents, and finally Connor entered the house.

  He saw her and immediately froze. For what seemed like ten minutes, Maddie felt as if they were the only ones in the room. He was carrying another dessert, and slowly he set it on a nearby end table. “Maddie?”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  Their parents and families were oblivious to what was happening between them. Only Bailey and Brandon stood by, grinning at what they were witnessing. Maddie heard Bailey say something about none of them knowing she was part of the Baxter family.

  But Maddie couldn’t concentrate on anything or anyone but Connor.

  He crossed the room to her. “I . . . can’t believe you’re here.” He hugged her and took a step back. “No wonder you looked familiar.”

  “How come I didn’t figure this out?” She still felt dizzy, as if she couldn’t quite get the details to add up. “I forgot my aunt’s friends were the Flanigans. Until just now as she was answering the door.”

  They hugged again and at that point Connor’s parents joined them by the tree. Connor’s cheeks were red, as if he, too, couldn’t believe what had just happened. “Mom . . . Dad . . . this is Maddie West.”

  His mom smiled. “We’ve known Maddie since she was a little girl.”

  “Maddie and her sister, Hayley.” Connor’s dad grinned. “It’s been a few years.”

  “At least a few.” Maddie laughed. And for the next several minutes they worked to figure out the last time they were all together. Three years ago at the annual Fourth of July picnic, Connor had been on a camping trip with his church’s high school group. And the year before that, Maddie had stayed home sick with her dad.

  “So the last time we were both at one of these parties was six years ago.” Connor looked at Maddie. “You were twelve and I was thirteen.”

  “I had braces.” Maddie giggled.

  “Me, too.” Connor squinted at her, as if he were looking back through the years. “Was your hair dark back then?”

  “Darker, for sure.” She was still laughing. “I highlight it.”

  “It all makes sense now.” Connor hugged her again, and this time he whispered near her face, “Let’s talk later.”

  “Definitely,” she whispered back.

  They joined the others headed to the dining room, and after introductions everyone gathered at the two tables and ate dessert. The Flanigans shared about their question game and everyone took a turn answering the one Cole thought up.

  “If you could have one gift that couldn’t be wrapped, what would it be?”

  Kendra Bryant went last. Her answer brought tears to almost everyone’s eyes. “I’d have Erin and the rest of her family here with us.” She looked around the room. “Because I think we would’ve been friends.”

  The time was poignant and beautiful, a perfect ending to a perfect Christmas Eve. And later, when people started to pack up their things and leave, Maddie asked her mom and dad if they could stay a little longer. So she and Connor could have a few minutes together.

  “Looks like you and I need to talk, too.” Her mom brushed her knuckles against Maddie’s cheek. “Wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes.” Maddie hugged her. “I have a lot to tell you.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” Her mom smiled. “Take your time, honey.”

  “Thanks.” Maddie returned the smile and then found Connor hanging out with her boy cousins. All of them seemed to remember him. Maybe that was part of the reason Maddie hadn’t recognized him. He had probably hung out with her boy cousins whenever they were all together. She would’ve been with the girls. When she was twelve, the last thing she was thinking about was boys.

  “You have a few minutes?” She grinned at him, and immediately he was on his feet.

  “We’ll plan that fishing trip later.” He grinned at the guys. “Gotta run.”

  “Wait.” Cole stood and looked from Maddie back to Connor. “You two know each other?”

  “We worked the Christmas play together.” Maddie shot Cole a look that said he’d better not make any funny comments. “We need to catch up.”

  Cole nodded slowly. “Got it.” He winked at Connor and then turned to the other boys. “I say we plan the fishing trip in March. As soon as the snow starts to melt. That’s when trout bite the best.”

  They were still talking about fishing as Maddie and Connor walked into the next room, with the Christmas tree. They were the only ones there, and Maddie was thankful. She still couldn’t believe that Connor was here, and that the conversation she’d been wanting was finally going to happen. Here.

  On Christmas Eve.

  They sat next to each other in the dark, with just the glow of the tree to light the moment. “I didn’t think we’d have time for this till next week.” Connor turned so he could see her better. “I never would’ve dreamed you were part of the Baxter family. I forget that most of you have different last names.”

  “And you . . . I should’ve put the pieces together. But Bailey and I were too many years apart when we were younger. She was either off with one of her friends or hanging out with your mom. Anyway, I don’t think of her as from around here. Because of Brandon, I guess.”

  For a few seconds Connor only looked at her. “So . . . about you and me.” He allowed a soft laugh and his eyes found the tree. “It seemed like we were great, like we had something special. And then you pulled away.”

  “I know . . .” Maddie wanted to get to the truth as quickly as possible. “It was all my fault.”

  “Maybe it was mine. I kept thinking, I must’ve said something that offended you. Or maybe there was something about the way I acted that you didn’t like.” He looked at her, the tree lights reflecting in his eyes. “I just couldn’t think what it was.”

  “No. That wasn’t it.” Her voice was quiet, meant for him alone. In the next room they could hear the others laughing and sharing stories. But here it was just the two of them. Exactly how Maddie wanted it. “I was keeping the truth from you, Connor. I had to. But now . . . now I know I was wrong to do that.”

  “The truth?”

  “Yes.” She sighed. God, help me find a way to tell him everything. I want to be honest. A new sense of strength filled her heart. Maddie took a deep breath. “Do you remember I told you that my sister had health issues?”

  “Yes.” Connor narrowed his eyes, as if he were seeing back through the years. “Was she . . . did she drown? When she was really little? Was that your sister?”

  “It was.” The pain of what had happened never dimmed. Maddie was sure it never would. “She was three and I was five. I was supposed to be watching her.”

  “At your house?” Connor searched her eyes. “Maddie, that could never be your fault.”

  “We were at a birthday party. My dad was there because my mom was on call at the hospital that day.” She could see it all again, smell the flowers on the birthday table and the sugary sweet of the icing on the chocolate cake.

  “They had a pool?” Connor was completely engaged, listening to every word.

  “Yes.” She felt sick to her stomach recounting the story, but she had to. She’d stuffed the details to the bottom of her heart for too many years. “It was a swim party. Everyone had life jackets, but then it was time to eat cake and we all took them off. Hayley was the youngest there. And my dad . . . he told me to watch her. To make sure she di
dn’t go near the pool with her life jacket off.”

  Connor groaned, as if the story was causing him physical pain. “Maddie . . .”

  “And then . . .” Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to give in to them. “. . . I remember Hayley running past me, heading out back with a few other kids. And . . . she didn’t have her life jacket on.” Maddie hung her head. Two tears slid down her cheeks.

  “Hey . . . it’s okay. You were little, Maddie.” Connor took hold of her hand.

  “I yelled at her, ‘Get your life jacket, Hayley. You have to wear it.’ ” Maddie shook her head, trapped in that day all over again. “She didn’t stop, didn’t answer me. And then . . . she was gone out back.” Maddie lifted her eyes to Connor. “I could’ve stopped her, but . . . I didn’t. I just . . . let her go.”

  Connor didn’t say anything. He ran his thumb slowly over her hand and listened.

  “A little while later I knew something was wrong. Hayley wasn’t anywhere. She was just . . . she was gone. And I started calling her name. Over and over again.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “He was up right away, calling for her, too. Shouting her name. Then everyone was calling for her.”

  Without saying a word, Connor reached out and put his hand alongside her face.

  The gesture was enough to melt Maddie’s heart. It was the last thing she’d expected him to do. Show her grace and understanding. All her life she thought that if she was honest about Hayley, people would turn and run.

  But not Connor.

  She blinked and a few tears ran down her cheeks. “Sorry. Every day I think about what happened to Hayley. How I could’ve stopped her. I watched her go outside. Without her life jacket. So it was my fault. But I’ve never . . . told anyone.”

  “You were too little, Maddie. You couldn’t have known what would happen.” Connor ran his thumb along the side of her hand again. “I’m here, Maddie. It’s okay.”

  “Anyway . . .” She stared at the tree, at the ornament of all the cousins together. “We ran out back and she was there . . . at the bottom of the pool. She . . . wasn’t moving.”

  Connor gave her hand the most gentle squeeze. “I wish you hadn’t had to see that.”

  “I wish it hadn’t happened.” She took a quick breath and finished the story. “My dad dove in right away and brought her to the top.”

  “She was breathing?” Connor’s voice was quiet.

  “Not at first. The doctors didn’t get her breathing until she was at the hospital. I guess they told my parents she’d never walk or talk. That she’d be blind the rest of her life.” She paused. “I didn’t know that until recently.”

  Connor looked surprised. “They were wrong, obviously.”

  “Yes.” Maddie was beyond thankful for the ways God had answered their prayers. “But she’s still not . . . the same. You know?”

  Maddie realized that Connor hadn’t been around Hayley enough to notice. But even so he nodded. “Yeah. She sat across from us during dessert. I could tell something was different. But it’s nothing really major, Maddie. At least it didn’t seem like it tonight.”

  “She’s still improving. That’s another miracle.” Maddie felt the sadness in her smile. “So . . . that’s the part I never told you.”

  Connor was still holding her hand, and now he looked long into her eyes. “I hate that you had to go through that. When you were so little.” She had never seen anyone look at her with such compassion. “But why . . . why did that make you pull away from me these last few weeks?”

  This was the hardest part, the part she wasn’t sure he’d understand. She exhaled, searching for the right words. “I’ve always known it was my fault. What happened to Hayley. Sure, I was little. And maybe it was too much responsibility for someone my age.” Her voice broke. “But still, it was my fault. So if Hayley could never have a normal life, then I didn’t deserve one either.”

  Confusion clouded Connor’s eyes. “A normal life?”

  “Like . . . if Hayley could never fall in love”—Maddie’s voice fell to little more than a whisper—“I couldn’t either.”

  Suddenly what she was saying must’ve become clear to Connor. The look on his face shifted and she could see just how much he cared. How much he liked her. “So you pulled away from me.”

  “Yes.” She looked at him, all the way through to his soul. “Does that make sense?”

  Connor looked deep into her eyes. “First . . . you were five years old, Maddie. What happened to Hayley wasn’t your fault.”

  “I can still hear my dad telling me to watch her. ‘Maddie, keep an eye on your little sister . . . Don’t take your eyes off her.’ ” She looked down for several seconds before lifting her gaze back to his. “I watched her go outside, Connor. I watched her and I didn’t stop her.” She sighed. It felt better to finally tell the truth about what happened. Even if it didn’t change things.

  “You have to let it go. You didn’t know what would happen.”

  “I guess.” Her heart felt free, even though the weight of her actions remained. “I know God doesn’t want me to feel guilty anymore. But still . . . it was my fault.”

  “You were five.” Connor didn’t break eye contact, not even for a moment. “Maddie, can you tell me something? Did you blame your father for what happened?”

  “No.” She was quick to answer. “Not at all. It was my job to look after her.”

  “He was the adult. He was the one in charge.” Connor’s tone was full of kindness and understanding. “I’m sure he blames himself every day. The same way you’ve been doing. Your mother, too. She was at work instead of spending the afternoon with you and Hayley at the party.”

  Connor’s words made sense. They were a balm that soothed the pain Maddie had carried since that awful day so many years ago. He wasn’t finished. “What about the person who owned the home? Or the girl having the birthday party? They could blame themselves, too. If only one of the moms had been out back watching the pool. Or if they would’ve had a different sort of birthday party—maybe one at the park or at a pizza place.”

  Maddie couldn’t imagine blaming any of them. “It wasn’t their fault.”

  “But I bet there are times when they all wonder. Don’t you think?”

  The possibility filled Maddie’s heart and hurt her at the same time. “I guess . . . I never imagined that. Up until now, I’ve always seen what happened through my eyes. My guilt over it.”

  “And you know what the truth is?” Connor didn’t waver, didn’t hesitate. “The truth is, accidents happen.” He pulled out his phone and opened his Bible app. “I was reading John 16 in my devotions today.”

  Maddie felt herself falling for him. What college guy actually had devotion time with God?

  He pulled up a section of Scripture. “Here, in verse thirty-three. It says, ‘In this world you will have trouble. But be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world.’ ” He put his phone down and clicked it off. “See, Maddie? Bad things happen. Period.”

  She nodded. She was so choked up over his kindness that she couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “It wasn’t your fault or anyone else’s fault. That’s not where God wants you to put your focus.”

  “Meaning what?”

  Connor allowed the hint of a smile. “He wants you to focus on Him. How He got your family through that time. How He healed Hayley . . . how He’s still healing her.”

  The idea felt so freeing, Maddie couldn’t stop the tears. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands. All this time . . . every day since Hayley’s accident, she had refused to let herself feel too good or too happy or too caught up in a boy like Connor Flanigan.

  All because she had blamed herself.

  But now . . . maybe Connor was right. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who had been feeling guilty about Hayley. And if that was true, maybe all of them were wrong to carry the blame. Especially when God had worked a miracle to heal her, to g
ive her sight and speech and the ability to attend school. Hayley was walking proof of God’s love and faithfulness.

  Before this Maddie had chosen only to see her sister’s broken parts. The missing parts. But not anymore.

  “Hey . . .” He crooked his finger and lifted her chin so their eyes met. “I only wish you would’ve told me back at the beginning.”

  A smile started in her heart and made its way to her face. “Wanna hear something amazing?”

  “Yes.” He leaned against the arm of the sofa, his eyes deep. “Always.”

  “At the Christmas play, Hayley brought a friend. A boy.” She grinned, feeling all over again the happiness she’d felt for her sister that night. “His name is Patrick. He has some special needs, but he’s highly functional. Same as her.”

  Connor smiled, the mood lighter between them. “So she’s getting ahead of you. Is that what you’re saying?”

  Laughter tickled Maddie’s throat. “I guess. But I promised myself I was finished comparing her life to mine. God has good plans for both of us.” She felt her eyes light up. “Remember the Christmas miracle I was praying for?”

  “We were praying for.” His look was more flirty and fun. The heaviness gone.

  “Yes, that’s right. You were praying, too.” She loved how he made her feel. How could she have pulled away from him? “Well, Patrick was the miracle. If Hayley can have love one day, then I know God is here and He’s real.”

  “And tonight . . . your uncle Luke and aunt Reagan’s story about being stuck in the snow?”

  “Yes, another one.” She softened her voice again. “And you should’ve seen my cousin Amy meeting Kendra Bryant, the woman who has her mother’s heart.”

  “What?” Connor looked amazed. “That’s definitely another story.”

  “Yes. And another miracle.”

  Connor met her eyes again and it felt like the two of them were the only ones in the house. “And this, Maddie . . . seeing you here.” His eyes shone again, as if there was more he wanted to say. Words that would have to wait for the right time.