Ian’s eyes narrowed as he quizzed Marcie wordlessly. “They’re going to light the tree,” she said. “I’d love to see it.”
“Whatever jingles your bells,” he said.
“You’re not coming?”
“I’m pretty comfortable right here.”
She leveled him with her gaze. “Suit yourself,” she finally said. And she got off her stool to follow the people in the bar as they headed outside.
There was a formidable gathering there—cars and trucks double-parked all up and down the street. People were murmuring, laughing, greeting each other. There were lots of excited children running around.
Marcie found herself at the back of the crowd, not out of shyness but because she wanted to see the entire height of the tree and get the full effect. She felt a longing to have Ian at her side, but his reluctance was easy to understand—nothing like the holidays to bring back dark memories of loved ones lost, families in unstable places, loneliness, bittersweet memories.
Mel was suddenly at her side, jiggling the baby.
“I thought you were expecting your first,” Marcie said with a bit of melancholy. There had been a time she’d seen a family in her future, but when Bobby was injured, everything went away—all the hopes and dreams and fantasies.
“This is David, my son. I wasn’t expecting to be expecting so soon again, but it is what it is. I’m knocked up.” She laughed. “You’d think a midwife would have a better handle on things.”
“I assume you’re happy about it?” Marcie asked boldly.
“It took a little getting used to, but the baby moves now. That seems to change even the most reluctant mommy. How’s it going? I see you got Ian into town. Did you finally speak with your sister?”
“I’m doing fine, and yes, I talked to Erin. She’s over-protective, but she can’t help it. She’s seven years older than me, nine years older than my little brother, and when we lost our parents, she took over. Since I was fifteen, she’s raised me. Got me through every rough patch of my life. Really, it kills me to defy her like this—but I’m not sorry I did this. Now that Bobby’s gone, she’d like me to snap out of it, sense the freedom, do all the things she feels were denied me—go back to school, get a career, marry one of her successful friends or something. She’s so conservative—I’m a little too crazy for her. This thing I’m doing—she thinks I’m nuts.”
“But do you think you’re nuts?” Mel asked.
“Sometimes,” she admitted. “But every day that passes, I learn more about myself. I don’t want to get all gooey, but this is a spiritual journey. I thought it was about Ian, but it might be that Ian is right where he should be and I’m the one who needs to face a few things about my life.”
“Aw, honey,” Mel said. “That’s not gooey. If we had time, I’d tell you about some of the crazy things I’ve done to try to get myself grounded.”
“That would be nice,” she said, reaching out to run a knuckle along David’s pink cheek.
“Oh, look! It’s going to happen,” Mel whispered. “David, look,” she said, turning the baby’s head. “Look at the tree!”
Marcie noticed that Jack was crouched behind the huge tree, a couple of extension cords in his hands. He connected them and the most amazing tree in the world came to life. It was adorned in red, white and blue streamers that ran from the top to the bottom; red, white and blue balls glittered amid white lights—a million white lights. And between them were the gold stars. And patches, visible only by the sparkling gold trim that illuminated them, representing hundreds of military units who stood the watch. But the thing that mesmerized Marcie was the star on top.
It wasn’t the typical gold star that often topped Christmas trees—it was a white beacon. And it was powerful. It actually cast a glow, as though it was a real star in the heavens. It created a path of light.
Her hand went to her throat to catch the tightness there. It was glorious. “That star,” she whispered in sheer awe.
“I know,” Mel said. “I had everyone in town looking for something like that. I hope it lights their way home.”
“All of them,” she whispered. “All of them.” And she thought of Bobby, finally home after his struggle. And Ian? Could it light Ian’s way home, too?
“How did you get all the unit patches?” Marcie asked.
“Jack and the boys contacted all their old friends. We made phone calls, wrote letters and faxed them. The tree was a sudden decision. Boys from around here have gone into the military—one very close to Jack and me not so long ago. And Vanni’s husband, lost to us in Baghdad…He was in Jack’s squad several years ago. This is for him, too. And his wife. This just couldn’t wait. We had to hurry to get it done, and we did. The whole town pitched in. Doc’s clinic was a disaster.” She laughed. “He groused, but I think it made him secretly happy.”