Paige turned and leaned against the closed door. She steepled her fingers and held them in front of her mouth. Her gaze roamed from carton to box to cooler to the Christmas tree. “Oh, my goodness,” she whispered.

  Although she felt much better after the nap and the painkillers, she certainly didn’t need to go shopping now. She checked her watch again. Another thirty minutes had passed. Jason usually didn’t nap longer than two hours. She probably had about thirty minutes to get things organized. Her lips trembled as she smiled, and she gave silent thanks to Laura and the Wish I May Foundation.

  Unsure of where to start, she looked in on Jason first. He slept peacefully, one arm around his beloved, slightly frayed teddy bear. Paige backed quietly out of his room to get to work. She could hardly wait to see his reaction when he woke up.

  Paige put away the food from the cooler first, then unpacked the gifts. She was surprised to discover that, at the bottom of one of the cartons, there were a few presents with her name on the tags.

  After the gifts were neatly stacked and the cartons collapsed and stored by the apartment door, she put away the nonperishable food. Just as she finished, Jason padded into the living room. He still wore his pajamas and clutched his teddy tightly to his chest. He looked around the room, his eyes wide. “Mom...?”

  Paige held out her hand. When he put his small one in hers, she led him to the tree. “How about we make hot chocolate and decorate our tree?”

  His eyes lit up at the mention of hot chocolate before his face turned serious again. “Mom, where did all this come from?”

  As much as Paige tried to shelter her son, she knew he was astute enough to understand that they couldn’t afford such luxuries. “Santa?” She tried for levity, knowing he hadn’t believed in Santa for a couple of years.

  “Mooom...”

  She thought of Laura and improvised. “A wonderful angel.”

  The little boy in him prevailed, and a smile spread across his face.

  For those precious hours—as they drank hot chocolate, decorated the tree and arranged the presents beneath it—Paige was able to forget about her son’s illness and her financial woes. Jason’s cheerful laughter, something she so seldom heard these days, warmed her right down to her toes.

  At the end of the evening, they were curled up on the sofa together, sipping more hot chocolate and watching A Charlie Brown Christmas—one of Jason’s favorite holiday shows. When the closing credits rolled, it was well past his normal bedtime. Paige turned off the television and took their empty mugs into the kitchen. By the time she returned, Jason’s head had drooped to the side, and he was sound asleep. The glow of the Christmas tree lights—the only illumination in the room—gave his face a rosy tint, masking the paleness of his complexion. In sleep, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; a bit of cocoa was smeared on his upper lip. Jason looked so healthy, happy and normal, Paige wanted that moment never to end. He stirred, seeming to grope for his teddy, before his hand fell limply onto his lap again.

  Paige lowered herself beside him and watched him breathe. Such a simple thing, really, but to see him do it without strain was its own kind of miracle. She rested a hand on his narrow shoulders. When he stirred again and reached for her, she gathered him in her arms, then lifted him up and carried him into his bedroom.

  dpgroup.org

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “MOM? MOM!” JASON stroked Paige’s face.

  Despite their late night, Jason was up early on Christmas morning and clearly eager for Paige to wake up, too.

  Paige yawned and stretched. She rolled over on her side and tucked one arm under her head. “Good morning, sweetie.” He was already dressed in jeans and his favorite blue sweater.

  “Mom! C’mon. It’s Christmas!” He yanked at her other hand. “You have to get up. We have presents to open.”

  Paige stifled another yawn and smiled. “Yes. We do.” She thought of the three beautifully wrapped packages with her name on the gift tags. They were entirely unexpected, as Laura hadn’t said anything about gifts for her. She felt a thrill of anticipation. “Go get a glass of milk, and I’ll be out soon.”

  By the time Paige entered the living room wearing jeans and a pale yellow shirt, Jason had settled by the tree. There were two glasses of milk on the coffee table, one nearly empty, the other full. She surmised that the full one was for her. How sweet of him.

  Jason glanced up as she approached. Scooting around, he tucked his legs under him and sat back on his heels. “Can we open the presents now?”

  Paige bent down beside him. “I don’t see why not. But you have to give me a hug first.”

  “Yay!” he proclaimed as he threw himself in her arms and briefly buried his face in the crook of her neck.

  She stroked his mop of hair as she stood up. “Decide which one you want to start with while I go get a garbage bag for the wrapping paper, okay?”

  When she returned, Jason was bubbling with excitement. In no time at all, most of the presents were open and piled around them. Jason had gotten almost everything on his wish list: a sketch pad, winter clothes, a New England Patriots cap, a picture book about circuses, a stuffed dog and a backpack for school. The only thing missing was a toy train, but he didn’t seem to mind. There were too many other exciting gifts he hadn’t even asked for.

  “Look, Mom!” Grinning, Jason showed her an electronic tablet. “And this!” He held up a kid-size Patriots jacket that came with the cap.

  “I see, sweetie!” She playfully tugged the cap down over his eyes. “Santa’s been good to you, huh?”

  Santa had been good to her, too. The packages with her name on them had contained lovely things she would never have spent money on. She’d received a soft-as-a-cloud fleece bathrobe that would replace her well-worn terry-cloth one and would come in handy with the cool winter temperatures. She’d also received a beautiful lilac wool sweater. She assumed Laura must have thought of her and given their sponsor an accurate guess as to her size, since both the bathrobe and sweater were a perfect fit. The third package contained a fancy coffeemaker. She hadn’t had one since she was married. She’d made do with instant. The coffee machine had come with an ample supply of coffees, teas and hot chocolate that would last a long time.

  They’d each also received a few small gifts from Paige’s parents.

  Now there were only two packages left under the tree: Jason’s gift for Paige, and hers for him. Paige had kept them back on purpose. “Why don’t you open yours first?” she encouraged him.

  She didn’t have to ask him twice. Jason pulled the rectangular box toward him and looked up at her. “It’s heavy.”

  “Uh-huh.” She knew he was trying to figure out what it was. This was the only gift she’d bought herself. She’d purchased it nearly a month ago, when she got a special customer service bonus from her employer. She had wanted Jason’s present to be special, and she hoped he’d like it, especially after all the other gifts he’d received through the Foundation.

  Jason was busy tearing the shiny wrapping paper. He ripped off a piece that revealed the writing on the carton. “Whooaa!” he exclaimed and quickly tore away the rest of the paper. He opened the cardboard container just as quickly and lifted out a wooden artist’s box. Unlatching the top, he examined the paints and pencils and brushes, taking them out and replacing each with great care. Closing the lid, he threw his arms around Paige’s neck.

  “Thanks, Mom!” There was no doubt that this gift was from her.

  Jason reached for the last gift and handed it to Paige. “Now you have to open mine.”

  “Okay.” She started peeling the wrapping paper off very slowly. Jason squirmed impatiently. “C’mon, Mom!”

  Under the wrapping paper, she found a tissue box. “You got me a box of Kleenex—just what I need at this time of year!” she teased.

  “Mooom...” He was bouncing with excitement.

  Paige loved that he was as excited to give gifts as he was to receive them. She pulled of
f the tape and a protective piece of cardboard. Inside the box was a lovely heart-shaped ceramic case. It had a pale-yellow background and was decorated with delicate flowers. She took it out carefully with both hands. “You made this for me?”

  “Uh-huh. The art teacher let me go to a class with the older kids. We were doing pottery, and most of the kids made bowls or mugs and stuff, but I wanted to make you something special. I had to fire it—that’s what they call it when you put the clay in this oven to bake on the colored glazes. I had to do it once for each color. I used yellow as the background, ’cause it’s your favorite.

  “Some kids had their stuff break when they fired them too much, but the teacher helped me, and mine didn’t. I remembered how you used to collect shells and keep them in that box you had. This is so you can collect things again.” Paige recalled the pretty jewelry box she’d had. She’d used it to store all the shells and other bits and pieces she’d collected over the years. She had no idea what had happened to the case, let alone its contents, but it was odd that Jason had remembered it.

  Tears gathered in her eyes. “It’s beautiful.” She leaned forward and slipped her arms around Jason. “And very special. Thank you.”

  *

  AFTER THEY’D PILED all the gifts under the tree, they started preparations for dinner. Paige was standing by the kitchen sink, peeling potatoes. Jason was kneeling on a chair by the counter, basting the huge turkey they’d received through the Wish I May Foundation.

  “It’s too bad Chelsea, Mrs. Bennett and the others aren’t here,” Jason remarked.

  Paige glanced at her son. He had his head bent over the turkey, methodically brushing it with oil. “It’s a little quiet this year, isn’t it? But our friends have their own families to visit.”

  “Yeah.” Jason dipped the brush into the small bowl of oil and continued basting. “I miss Grandma and Gramps, too.”

  Paige wiped her hands, moved to stand beside Jason. “That part we can fix. Why don’t we call them once we’ve finished up in here?”

  After Paige slid the roasting pan with the turkey into the oven, they called her mother and father using the speakerphone. They chatted at length with Charlotte and briefly with Stephen. Jason thanked them for the gifts they’d sent him, and Charlotte praised Jason profusely for the beautiful picture he’d painted for them of Iris sitting on the lawn in front of their house.

  The turkey had been in the oven for hours, filling their apartment with its delicious aroma, by the time Paige and Jason were settled in the living room again. They’d made more hot chocolate and were playing one of Jason’s new games when someone knocked on the door.

  Thinking it might be one of her other neighbors, Paige was surprised to find a tall, attractive man at her door. He was easily over six feet, with an athletic build. He had well-cut, thick black hair, a strong face and friendly, vivid green eyes. He wore black slacks and a weathered black leather bomber jacket over a white shirt. He had a grin on his face and a large, cheerfully wrapped box in his arms.

  Paige held the door ajar but blocked the opening with her body. The man didn’t appear threatening, but she believed in being cautious, especially where Jason was concerned.

  “Are you Ms. Summerville?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He braced the package against the doorframe and held out a hand. “I’m Daniel Kinsley.”

  Paige glanced at his hand but kept her own on the doorknob. The name meant nothing to her. She had no idea who this person was. Just because he was unreasonably attractive and well-dressed didn’t mean he couldn’t be a threat. She remembered hearing about a man who dressed up as Santa Claus with a bag of gifts to get into people’s homes to rob them. “I’m sorry, but should I know you?”

  “No, not directly. I’m your sponsor from the Wish I May Foundation.” He continued to smile.

  The warmth of his smile made it hard to imagine he could be dangerous, but...

  “I asked Laura Andrews for your address,” he explained. “So I could bring Jason a gift.”

  “Oh,” was all Paige could manage, since this did nothing to dispel her unease. They’d already received the delivery, and she knew the Foundation protected the families’ identities.

  Peering into the living room and at a wide-eyed Jason, Daniel waved to him. “And that must be Jason!” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced on Christmas Day. I realize it’s unusual, but these are special circumstances. This is his last Christmas gift. Jason wanted a train, and I ordered this for him.” He nodded at the large package in his arms. “But it didn’t arrive until this morning, too late to deliver it with the rest of the gifts. I wanted to make sure Jason got it.”

  Paige studied the box. “That’s much too big for a toy train.”

  Daniel laughed. “It’s a train, all right. It just happens to be a complete, deluxe electric train set,” he whispered.

  “Oh, Mr. Kinsley—”

  “Daniel. Please.”

  “Okay, Daniel. You didn’t have to do this.” Paige’s unease was subsiding. There was a genuinely disarming quality about the man. Then she felt her eyes go as wide as Jason’s. Her embarrassment at having to accept charity from a stranger warred with her gratitude for all he’d done for them—essentially giving them Christmas. Flustered and a little uncertain, she motioned behind her with her arm. “You mean you are responsible for all of this?”

  He laughed again. “Guilty as charged.” Sobering, he added, “How could I not do it after learning about Jason?”

  His laughter and obvious sincerity further lessened her discomfort. Their eyes held for a long moment. Something warm, something elemental—a shared understanding, perhaps—passed between them.

  With her eyes still on his, Paige broke the silence. “Mr. Kinsley—Daniel,” she corrected herself before he could. “I don’t know how to thank you. Come in, please.”

  As Daniel stepped inside, Jason dashed over. “What’s that?”

  “Jason! This is Mr. Kinsley.”

  “Sorry, Mom. Hello, Mr. Kinsley. Um, what’s that?” he asked again.

  “It’s a gift for you.” Daniel glanced at Paige. “Where should I put it?”

  Paige looked around the living room. “How about here?” she suggested, leading him to the coffee table. When the oven timer dinged, she excused herself.

  She opened the oven door and checked the turkey, which was coming along nicely. She realized that it, too, was courtesy of their Wish I May Foundation sponsor. The person who was currently in their living room. The person who’d already been so generous to them and had come to deliver another gift. It was hard to believe. She tried again to push aside her reservations about receiving charity.

  Not wanting to leave Jason with a stranger for long, regardless of how trustworthy he seemed, Paige rushed back to the living room.

  Colorful wrapping paper was scattered everywhere. The large box was open and stood next to the coffee table. Daniel’s jacket was slung over the back of the sofa. His sleeves were rolled up, and he was removing pieces of the set.

  Jason beckoned to her. “Look, Mom! Look at all these pieces!”

  She joined them. “I see.”

  “Mr. Kinsley is helping me. Is that okay?”

  Paige’s eyes met Daniel’s. She’d never seen eyes that shade of green, and they shone with pleasure. “Sure. We shouldn’t keep him too long, though. I’m certain Mr. Kinsley has plans.”

  “I’ve got time, if you don’t mind me helping Jason put the train set together.”

  Paige hesitated. “All right. I’ll just finish getting dinner ready.” Still cautious of a stranger with her son, she turned back to Jason as she was about to enter the kitchen. “Call if you need anything.”

  Paige prepared the vegetables, got the makings for the salad ready and continued to marvel at Daniel Kinsley. She hadn’t known his name until he introduced himself. All she’d known from her discussions with Laura Andrews was that Jason’s sponsor was a la
wyer with an important firm in Hartford, Connecticut. This had to be highly unusual, a sponsor delivering gifts personally, but Paige was sure Laura wouldn’t have given him her address if she didn’t trust Daniel.

  Paige scooped the cranberry sauce into a small serving dish. She’d made all the dinner preparations she could for the time being. She put the oven mitts back in the drawer next to the stove and stepped through the kitchen doorway into the living room.

  Kelly Clarkson’s melodic voice singing “Silent Night” flowed through the room. All the wrapping paper and packaging from the train set had been cleared up and stuffed inside the box, which stood next to all the other collapsed cartons beside the apartment door. Jason and Daniel were sitting side by side at the coffee table with their backs to her. The top was covered with the discarded cardboard from one of the cartons, and the train set components sat on the cardboard. Daniel and Jason’s heads were bent together as they worked on assembling the pieces.

  Jason suddenly gestured wildly with his arms, and they both laughed. Their laughter was infectious, and Paige couldn’t help grinning.

  They seemed to be having a wonderful time putting the set together, so immersed in the task that they were oblivious to all else. To see her little boy so animated, so joyful, meant the world to her.

  Paige leaned against the doorjamb and folded her arms.

  Working as a team, Jason and Daniel tested the fit of a car on the track before starting to assemble the next one. Daniel sent one car rolling down the track, then turned and said something to Jason. Jason grinned and nodded energetically. As if he sensed her watching him, Daniel twisted his head further toward Paige, a smile on his face.

  Above Jason’s head, their eyes met. Paige felt that odd little connection again, the way she had when she’d first opened the door to him. There was so much warmth and kindness in his eyes.

  Wistfully, Paige wondered what Christmas would’ve been like if Jason had a father who was still part of his life. Part of their lives. Someone they could share Christmas with. Instead, here was Daniel Kinsley, a big-shot lawyer, helping a very excited Jason assemble his train set.