1225 Christmas Tree Lane

Grace had felt it was time to check on the rest of her family.

“It’s certainly been a full and busy night,” Cliff said.

“Fuller than either of us could’ve imagined,” Grace murmured.

A car pulled into the yard. “Isn’t that Jack’s?” Cliff asked, squinting into the lights.

“Yes—it’s Olivia and Jack.” Grace should’ve known Olivia wouldn’t just go home after Christmas Eve services. She’d briefly told Olivia what was happening before she’d hurried out of the church, fearing she’d caused enough of a distraction as it was.

Jack parked next to Cliff’s vehicle. Before he’d even turned off the engine, Olivia had opened her door. “How’s everything?” she asked anxiously as she stepped out of the car.

“We have a baby girl.”

Olivia brought her hands together and pressed them to her heart. “I’m so pleased. And Mary Jo?”

“Was incredible.”

“You delivered the baby?”

“Not exactly. But I was there.”

Being with Mary Jo had brought back so many memories of her own children’s births. Memories that were clear and vivid. The wonder of seeing that beautiful, perfectly formed child. The elation. The feeling of womanly power. She remembered it all.

“If not you, then who?” Olivia asked.

“Mack McAfee. The other EMT, Brandon, was there, too, but it was Mack who stayed with Mary Jo, who helped her through the worst of it. By the time I arrived, the baby was ready to be born.”

“I’m sure she was happy to see you.”

Mary Jo had been, but she hadn’t really needed Grace; she and Mack had worked together with a sense of ease and mutual trust.

Grace almost felt as if she’d intruded on something very private. The communication between Mack and Mary Jo had been—she hesitated to use this word—spiritual. It was focused entirely on the birth, on what each needed to do to get that baby born. Grace felt moved to tears, even now, as she thought about it.

“Grandma, listen!” Tyler shouted. He pounded on his drum, making an excruciating racket.

Grace covered her ears. “Gently, Tyler, gently.”

Tyler frowned as he looked up at her. “I was playing my best for you.”

“Remember the song about the little drummer boy?” Olivia asked him.

Tyler nodded eagerly. “It’s my favorite.”

“It says in the song that he went pa-rum-pum-pum-pum, right?”

Tyler nodded again.

“It doesn’t say he beat the drum like crazy until baby Jesus’s mother put her hands over her ears and asked him to go next door and play.”

Tyler laughed. “No.”

“Okay, try it more slowly now,” Grace said.

Tyler did, tapping on the drum in a soft rhythm that was pleasing to the ear.

“Lovely,” Grace told her grandson.

“Can I play for the ox and the lamb?” he asked.

“In the song they kept time, remember?”

Grinning, Tyler raced away to show his cousins what he’d learned and to serenade the animals.

“Come in for a cup of coffee,” Cliff suggested to Olivia and Jack.

“We should head home,” Jack said. His arm rested protectively on Olivia’s shoulders.

“I just wanted to make sure everything turned out well,” Olivia explained. “Do you think I could see Mary Jo and the baby for a few minutes?”

“I don’t see why not,” Grace said with a smile.

The two women left the men outside to chat while Grace led the way up to the small apartment. Brandon Hutton sat on the top step with his medical equipment, filling out paperwork. He shifted aside and they skirted around him.

“Mary Jo?” Grace asked, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. “Would it be okay if Olivia came in to see the baby?”

“Of course. That would be fine,” Mary Jo said.

When they walked into the bedroom, they found Mary Jo sitting up, holding her baby in her arms.

“Oh, my,” Olivia whispered as she reached the bed.

“She’s so tiny.”