Carl glanced over at Megan, then looked wordlessly back at his son. “It’s Christmas, son. That’s the season of miracles.”
“Wow. Can I play with it now?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Tommy ran back to the center of the room and began assembling all the plastic parts. Carl leaned close to Megan’s ear. “What do you suppose are the odds …”
“I don’t even want to think about it,” she said firmly.
Tommy plunged headfirst into animated play with his new acquisition, and Megan and Carl resettled on the sofa.
“I just can’t get over … how wonderful all this is,” Carl said, his voice choking. “I was so certain I would be spending Christmas alone. And now …” He shook his head in amazement. “I just wish I had something for you. You’ve done so much for us.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Megan answered. “You’ll have plenty of time to make up for it. Like when you start bankrolling my new law firm.”
“Yeah, but in the meantime. I’d like to do something.”
“Fine. In another hour, Jasper’s going to need his suppository.”
Carl laughed. “You know what I mean. Like a present. Today is Christmas, after all.”
She looked away. “Don’t be silly. I’m a grownup. I don’t need Christmas presents.”
“If you say so.” His eyes narrowed a bit. “Then what’s that present under the tree?”
“Present? What?”
“See? Way in the back.” He pointed it out for her.
Megan crossed the room and crawled behind the tree. “I can’t imagine who-” She picked up the hatbox-sized wrapped package and lifted the flap on the card. TO MY MEGAN, it read, FROM YOUR MOMMY.
“Mother?” She felt as if the air had suddenly been sucked out of her lungs. “But-”
She didn’t wait to figure it all out. Moving faster than Tommy had opening the Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter, she ripped off the wrapping paper.
The cardboard box inside was sealed with a strip of packaging tape. She pressed her fingernail into the crease and dragged it across the box.
One flap popped free. Megan pulled open the other.
And examined the contents.
It was a Kewpie doll, just like the dozen in her office, just like all the others her mother had given her every time she was going somewhere. But this one was different. This one was wearing a long white gown. She was holding a harp and had wings sprouting out of her back.
And there was a halo over her head.
Megan fished around inside the box till she found the card:
Megan placed the package on the coffee table and fell into the nearest chair. Tears cascaded down her face.
Carl leaned forward, concerned. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Megan said, biting down on her lip. “Something is right. Very, very right.”
“I-don’t understand.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, and her voice trembled as she spoke. “I–I just realized how wrong I’ve been. About so many things.” She wiped the teardrops from her eyes. “But the biggest mistake was when I thought I was alone. I’m not alone. I was never alone.”
She took his hand and they both sat silently for a long stretch, each quietly contemplating what a ceramic Kewpie doll and a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter could tell them about the season of miracles.
