Comfort & Joy

We whisper the word at the same time, Daniel and I. It seems as soft as a love song in the cab, and as sturdy as one of these old trees.

But Bobby wants something more concrete. “If she comes back, can she stay with us?”

Daniel is frowning suddenly. I wonder if, like me, he’s come undone by the single word that somehow joins us, gives us a glimpse of maybe. “Sure. ”

“You promise?” Bobby says.

“I promise,” Daniel answers, still gazing at me. I feel something waken in me, a longing that makes my heart speed up. “All she has to do is say, ‘Open the damn door, Daniel. It’s cold out here,’ and I’ll let her in. ”

Bobby laughs. It is the purest, clearest sound I’ve ever heard. “She doesn’t swear, Dad. ”

For the first time, Daniel and I laugh together.

The best pieces of chocolate in the box are always the last ones. So it is with this second-to-last night I have at the Comfort Fishing Lodge. By the time we get home, the electricity is back on. In no time, the Christmas tree and mantel are pockets of glowing colored lights and there’s a roaring fire in the fireplace.

Bobby and Daniel go to the kitchen for dinner; I go to my room and take a shower. I’m cold to the bone; food is the last thing on my mind.

Rather, I think about tomorrow.

Christmas Eve.

It will be my last night here.

Already I know that my vacation is over. When Stacey gets home—probably from Thom’s office party—she’ll listen to my message and immediately start looking for me. I’ll be “big news. ” The authorities will clamor for answers to questions I don’t want voiced, let alone answered. I don’t believe any of them will understand why I chose to walk away from the crash.

The few who will understand will be those who have been where I was in early December. People who have lost themselves in the dark woods of ordinary life, who have been betrayed by loved ones and forgotten how to be led by dreams.

And Daniel.

For no reason I can articulate, I am sure he will understand my bizarre choice. He is a man who knows about drifting, about betrayal and loss. I’m certain of it. It’s why he bought this place, those years ago when his family lived amid the red brick of Boston. Sometimes a change of scenery can be the answer. Or an answer, anyway.

Stacey, too, will understand, and she will forgive me. The question is: can I forgive her? Even with all that I have learned, I don’t know the answer to that, and truthfully, I don’t want to think about it. I haven’t much time here at the Comfort Lodge. I need to soak up every second and fashion the time into memories. I will need them when I’m home again.

It is the need for more that sends me in search of them again. I go out to the lobby, where Bobby and Daniel are watching Miracle on 34th Street.

“Oh, good,” Bobby says at my arrival. “You didn’t miss anything. ”

He doesn’t yet know how many times we watch Christmas movies in our lives. I take a seat in the red leather chair by the fireplace.

Together—like a family—we watch the movie.

As I watch the scenes unfurl, I can’t help thinking of other Christmases, long ago.

“My mommy loved this part,” Bobby says softly.

Onscreen, a young Natalie Wood is running through her new house, finding the cane that proves a miracle.

“Mine, too,” I say as the screen goes black and the credits roll.

Bobby’s smile dips for a second, then returns. “You wanna play Chutes and Ladders?”

“Of course,” I answer.

Daniel laughs. “It’s better than watching the Grinch again. ”

Bobby laughs at that, and the sound of their braided laughter—Daniel’s throaty and full, his son’s high and childish—finds a soft spot in me.

Bobby runs upstairs and is back in no time. Within minutes, the game is set up on the card table.