A Gift to Last Page 0,12

involuntary step backward. Alone. That was how she'd felt since Ron's death. It seemed as though she wandered from day to day without purpose, linked to no one, lost, confused. And consumed by a grief so painful it virtually incapacitated her. All she had was the promise that time would eventually ease this ache in her heart.

"The entire situation is horrible," Madeline continued.

"What would you have me do? Scream and shout? Yell at the stationmaster who's done nothing but be as helpful and kind as possible? Is that what you want?"

Her question was followed by Madeline's soft unhappy sigh.

"I feel so incredibly guilty," her daughter confessed after a moment.

"Why in heaven's name should you feel anything of the sort?" It was ludicrous that Madeline was blaming herself for these unfortunate circumstances.

"But, Mother, you're with strangers, instead of family, and I'd hoped - "

"Now stop," Cathy said in her sternest voice. "None of this is your fault. In any case, I'm here in Abbott and perfectly content. I brought my knitting with me and there are plenty of others for company."

"But it's Christmas Eve," Madeline protested.

Cathy closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. "Do you honestly believe any Christmas will ever be the same for me without your father?"

"Oh, Mom." Her daughter's voice fell. "Don't mention Daddy, please. It's so hard without him."

"But life goes on," Cathy said, doing her best to sound brave and optimistic.

"I'd wanted to make everything better for you."

"You have," Cathy told her gently. "I couldn't have stayed at the house alone. I'd rather be in this depot with strangers than spending Christmas with memories I'm not ready to face. And sometime tonight or tomorrow, I'll be with all of you. Now let's stop before we both embarrass ourselves."

"You'll phone as soon as the tracks are repaired?"

"The minute I hear, you'll be the first to know."

"Brian and I and the girls will come down to the depot for you."

"Fine, sweetheart. Now don't you worry, okay?"

Madeline hesitated, then whispered, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too. Now promise me you won't fret."

"I'll try."

"Good." After a few words of farewell, Cathy replaced the receiver and returned to her seat. The depot was warm, thanks to the small stove. Those who'd stayed had taken up residence on the hardwood benches. As Cathy reached for her knitting, she battled back a fresh wave of depression.

Madeline was right. It was a dreadful situation, being stuck in a train depot this day of all the days in the year. She glanced around at the others. They appeared just as miserable as she.

Could this really be Christmas?

CAN THIS BE CHRISTMAS? Chapter Four

"The Most Wonderful Day of the Year"

"H i." A little girl with pigtails and a charming toothless smile sauntered up to Cathy.

"Hello," Cathy said in a friendly voice. Not including the baby, two children remained in the depot. A girl and a boy. The girl bounced about the room like a red rubber ball, but the boy remained glued to his parents' sides.

"What are you doing?" the child asked, slipping onto the wooden bench next to her.

"Knitting. This is a sweater for my granddaughter. She's about your age."

"I'm five."

"So is Lindsay."

"I can read. The kindergarten teacher told Mommy I'm advanced for my age."

"That's wonderful. I'll bet your mother and father are very proud of you." Cathy smiled at the youngster while her fingers continued to work the colorful yarn.

The little girl's head drooped slightly. "My mommy and daddy are divorced now."

Cathy felt the child's confusion and pain. "That's too bad."

She nodded, looking wise beyond her years. "We're going to spend Christmas with my grandma Gibson in Boston."

"Kate." A frazzled young woman approached the little girl. "I hope you weren't bothering this lady."

"Not at all," Cathy assured her.

"My grandma said Santa was coming tonight and bringing me lots of presents." Kate's sweet face lit up with excitement. "Santa'll still come, won't he, even if the train is late?"

"Of course he will," the child's mother told her in a tone that suggested this wasn't the first time she'd reassured her daughter.

"He'll find us even in the storm?"

"He has Rudolph's nose to guide his sleigh, remember?"

Kate nodded.

Cathy let her knitting rest in her lap.

"Can I read to you?" the youngster asked, her eyes huge. "Please?"

"Why, I can't think of anything I'd enjoy more." Cathy could, but it was clear the restless child needed something to take her mind off the situation, and she was happy to listen. Having grandchildren, she could well appreciate the difficulty of keeping