The Christmas Children

Paul followed her into the kitchen and leaned against a massive wooden post supporting the upstairs balcony that overlooked the living area. The kitchen was as inviting as the great room. Light oak cabinets blended with the pine-paneled ceiling. A food-preparation island filled the center of the kitchen. A round table was arranged in a window nook and four cushioned armchairs were placed around it. Several large, curtained windows blended in with the cabinets, to make the room light and airy in warm weather.

Carissa and Naomi had agreed that they’d put enough food in their refrigerators to last for a few days, but she saw now that the shelves were practically empty. That seemed strange, for in their business association, Carissa had found Naomi to be a woman of her word. There was a carton of orange juice and a gallon of milk in the refrigerator, both of which had been opened.

“We can have juice or milk. I don’t see any sandwich fixin’s, but what about a sweet roll? There are two left in the package. I can warm them in the microwave.”

“I’ll take coffee with the roll,” Paul said, yawning and lounging wearily in one of the chairs at the table. “I haven’t been to bed for about thirty hours. I may have to take a cold shower, too.”

“It’s cold enough outside to wake you up. Maybe you can take a run around the house.”

“Not unless I have to,” Paul said, shivering slightly. “It’ll take a while for me to get used to Adirondack weather again.”

Carissa heated water for coffee before she sat beside him. She said, “You already know my name, but I’ll fill in some more facts. My home is in Tampa, where I’ve run a fashion design business for several years. I’ve never met your sister, but Townsend Textile Mill has manufactured many of my designs. Naomi and I have been in touch by phone and e-mail since she took over running the mill.”

“That was when her husband died.”

Carissa nodded. “I sold my business last month, and, being at loose ends, I decided I wanted to spend Christmas in the north. I was born in Minnesota, and I kept remembering the Christmases we had when I was a kid. By coincidence, Naomi’s doctor suggested that she needed a vacation. He thought relaxation for a while in a warmer climate would ease the pain of her arthritis. A mutual friend arranged for us to exchange houses.”

“I’m happy that Naomi’s taking some time off,” Paul said. “The pain has gotten steadily worse, and the stress of taking over management of the textile mill seemed to aggravate it.”

“That’s what she said. We decided on short notice to make this exchange, and she probably didn’t have time to let you know.”

“We don’t stay in contact very well. Right now, my company’s working on a project in an isolated part of Eastern Europe, and I call her when I get to a city. My cell phone doesn’t work at our present location.”

Paul’s eyes were glazed from lack of sleep, and when his head drooped, Carissa knew she had to keep him talking. “What kind of work do you do?”

“I’ve been with the same construction company for eighteen years. I worked for them part-time in the States while I finished college, but since then I’ve been working overseas. Right now, we’re building an electric power plant in the Czech Republic.”

“How often do you come home?”

“This is the fourth or fifth time I’ve been home since I left Yuletide about twenty years ago. I had an unpleasant experience here, and coming home reminds me of it, so I don’t visit very often.”

He stifled a yawn. Carissa stirred a heaping tablespoon of coffee crystals into a mug of boiled water and handed it to him. He took several sips of the coffee before he continued.

“Last week, we had some equipment failure that will take a month to fix, so the boss told most of us to take a vacation. I usually spend my free time sightseeing in Europe and western Asia, but since it was Christmas, I had a hankering to be with family. Naomi is the only family I have. I’ll have to go to Florida to see her, I reckon—I’ll be returning to Europe sometime between Christmas and the new year.”

“I have a two-bedroom condo, so there’s plenty of room for you. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

“And I want to see her,” Paul agreed. “I had looked forward to spending my vacation in snow country, but I’ve never been to Florida, so this sounds like a great opportunity.”

“There’s a good view of Tampa Bay from my balcony, and the beach isn’t far away.”

“You’ve convinced me,” he said, laughing. “But I’ll rest up a few days before I make any plans.”

It was daylight by the time they finished eating, and Carissa exclaimed in delight as she viewed the frozen lake from the kitchen window.

“I was disappointed last night when I arrived in Yuletide,” she said, “because it didn’t have the Christmas atmosphere I had expected, but this area looks like the winters I used to know. There are lots of lakes in Minnesota, although we don’t have mountains.”

While Paul showered and shaved, Carissa moved the furniture back into place and put the pots and pans she’d scattered on the floor in the dishwasher. She surveyed the room to be sure it looked as it had when she’d arrived. Something seemed to be missing, but she didn’t know what until she realized that the stuffed bear she’d seen on the fireplace ledge wasn’t there. She knew she hadn’t moved it.

Paul returned at that time looking refreshed and more handsome than ever, in spite of his black eye and the bruise on his forehead.

“Did you move a teddy bear off the fireplace ledge?” Carissa asked.

“No,” he said, adding with a mischievous smile, “I stopped playing with toys a long time ago.”

“Surely at forty-five, I’m not having a “senior” moment—as some of my friends say. But I know when I arrived last night there was a stuffed bear lying on the hearth. It isn’t there now.”

“Maybe Justin or the medics moved it out of the way when they came for me.”

“Maybe. But I had the strangest feeling that someone had been in the house before I arrived. That’s why I barricaded the door last night. The house was warm, although Justin told me that Naomi had lowered the thermostat before she left.”

“Maybe Naomi was having a senior moment, too, and forgot to lower the temperature.” He looked out the back door. “I’m going over to check my apartment and put my rental truck in the garage.”

Still brooding over possible intruders, Carissa walked to the wide glass door and stood beside Paul. Behind the house was a three-car garage with an apartment on the floor above it.

“We inherited this property from our parents,” Paul explained. “When Naomi and her husband decided to build the chalet, I built the garage and apartment. I’m never in the States more than two months at a time, but when I’m here, I want my own place to stay in.”

“It’s a nice place.”

“Good enough for what I need,” he agreed. “Want to go with me and check it out?”

“Sure. I’m still your overseer for a few hours.”

She grinned pertly at him, and Paul thought how fetching she looked. Carissa had intense blue eyes fringed by dark lashes, and a spray of freckles across her nose, which only added to the beauty of her delicate oval face. Carissa seemed young and untouched. Paul found it hard to believe that she was forty-five.

“I’ll put on my boots and coat,” Carissa said, wondering at the speculative gleam in her companion’s eyes.

His apartment consisted of a large living room and kitchen combination with a spacious bathroom and bedroom in the rear. The absence of nonessential decorations proclaimed the apartment a man’s. Carissa wondered at his age, judging that he was several years younger than she was. He’d said Naomi was his only family—but had trouble with a woman been the unpleasant experience that had caused him to leave Yuletide?

The apartment was chilly, and Carissa insisted that Paul go back to the house with her. “It’ll be several hours before the apartment gets comfortable. By that time, you’ll be ready to take a long nap.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that. But I wanted to point out the intercom system between my apartment and the house.” He pointed to a speaker on the living room wall. “Just flip the switch and call if you need me. The one in the house is on the wall between the kitchen and the living room.”

He yawned, and Carissa said, “Let’s take a walk before we go back to the house. If you sit down, you’re going to sleep.”

“A good idea, but I’ll need some warmer clothes, and I hardly remember what I have. I haven’t been home during the winter for a long time.” Paul shoved clothing back and forth in the bedroom closet until he found a heavy coat with a hood that still fit him. He changed his light boots for insulated ones.

Sunshine glistened on the newly-fallen snow as Paul and Carissa crossed the road and took the path around the lake. White-throated sparrows and Acadian chickadees darted into the trees, dislodging tufts of snow that settled on Paul’s and Carissa’s shoulders. They observed the ungainly flight of a pileated woodpecker, its red crest conspicuous in the sunlight. Small huts dotted the surface of the frozen lake, now covered with several inches of fresh snow.

“There’s a lot of ice fishing on this lake,” Paul commented. “The huts are rented to fishermen for protection from the wind while they wait for a bite.”

“There’s ice fishing on the lakes in Minnesota, too.”

“I wonder if the lake is frozen enough for skating,” he said. “I learned to skate on Lake Mohawk. We used to have skating parties almost every night. I’ve kept up with skating as much as possible. Many Christmas holidays I’ve spent time in Germany, Austria or Switzerland so I could skate.” He stepped out on the surface of the lake. “Seems pretty solid. Do you skate?”

“Not since I was a child. Skating isn’t a Florida pastime.”

Their footsteps crunched rhythmically on the frozen snow as they walked. “Why did you leave Minnesota and move to Florida? Did your family transfer?” he asked.