A Gift to Last Page 0,10

right now, don't you?"

She didn't answer.

"Amy?" Talking with a lineup of people waiting to use the phone was a little inhibiting.

"I'll get in touch with your parents and let them know," she whispered, and her voice broke.

"I'll call you as soon as I hear anything," he said. Then, despite a dozen people eavesdropping on his conversation, he added, "I love you, Amy."

Unfortunately the line was already dead.

He should phone home, Matt decided, and even waited his turn in the long line that formed outside the telephone booth. He was three people away when he suddenly changed his mind. He had no idea why; then again, maybe he did.

It went without saying that Pam would be furious. He could hear her lambaste him now, and frankly, he wasn't in the mood for it.

He crossed to one of the vacant benches and sat down. These old seats might look picturesque, but they were a far sight from being comfortable. He shifted his position a number of times, crossed and uncrossed his legs.

As bad luck would have it, the couple with the baby sat directly opposite him. Matt didn't understand it. He seemed to attract the very people who irritated him most. Thankfully the infant was peacefully asleep in her mother's arms.

Matt studied the baby, remembering his own children at that age and how happy he and Pam had been in the early years of their marriage. That time seemed distant now. His dissatisfaction with his job didn't help. He felt as if he was struggling against everything that should make life good - his family, his marriage, his work. As if he stood waist-deep in the middle of a fast-flowing stream, fighting the current.

His wife had no comprehension of the stress he experienced day in and day out. According to her, he went out of his way to make her life miserable. Lately all she did was complain. If he went on the road, she complained; if he was home, she found fault with that, too.

The thought had come to him more than once these past few days that maybe they'd be better off living apart. He hadn't voiced it, but it was there in the back of his mind. Unhappy as she was, Pam must be entertaining these same thoughts. He couldn't remember the last time they'd honestly enjoyed each other's company.

Restless now, he stood and walked about. The depot had filled up, and there wasn't room enough for everyone to sit. The stationmaster was on the phone, and Matt watched the old man's facial expressions, hoping to get a hint of what was happening.

The man removed his black hat, frowned, then nodded. Matt couldn't read anything into that. He waited until the old guy had replaced the receiver. No announcement. Apparently there wasn't anything new to report. Matt checked his watch and groaned.

Thinking he might be more comfortable back on the train, he hurried outside, rushing through the bone-chilling wind and snow to the security of the train itself. The conductor and other staff had disappeared, Matt didn't know where. Probably all snug in the comfort of some friend's home. Not so for the passengers. The wind and snow nearly blinded him. He wasn't on board more than twenty minutes when the young father hurried inside and reached for a diaper bag tucked under the seat.

"Your first kid?" Matt asked, bored and miserable. A few minutes of conversation might help pass the time. The answer was fairly obvious. He was no expert when it came to infants, but it was clear to him that this couple was far too high-strung about parenthood. To his way of thinking, once these two relaxed, their baby would, too.

The man nodded, then sat down abruptly. "I had no idea it would be like this."

"Nothing's the same after you have kids," Matt said. The train, now that it'd shut down, wasn't heated, and the piercing cold had quickly permeated the interior.

"Do you have kids?"

"Two," Matt said, and despite his mood, he grinned. "Matt McHugh." He held out his hand.

"Nick Berry."

"This isn't exactly how I expected to spend Christmas Eve."

"Me, neither," Nick said. He lifted his shoulders and rubbed his bare hands. "If it was up to me, we'd never have left Bangor, but Kelly's parents haven't seen the baby yet."

Matt grunted in understanding.

"I'd better get back inside," Nick said. "Kelly's waiting."

"I might as well go in with you." It was obvious that he wouldn't be able to stay on the train much longer. He'd come