The Christmas Box by Richard Paul Evans Read Free Book Online Page B

eaceful illumination of the Christma s t ree lights. Strands flashed on and of f i n syncopation, casting shadows of different shapes and hues. I held Jenn a i n silence.
    "Dad, is Mary coming home for Christmas?" she asked.
    I ran a hand through my hair. "No, I don't think so. Mary is very sick."
    "Is she going to die?"
    I wondered what that meant to m y l ittle girl.
    "Yes, honey. I think she will die."
    "If she is going to die, I want to giv e h er my present first."
    She ran over to the tree and lifted a s mall, inexpertly wrapped package. "I made her an angel." With excitemen t s he unveiled a petite cardboard ange l c onstructed with tape, glue, and pape r c lips.
    "Dad, I think Mary likes angels."
    I started to sob quietly. "Yeah, I thin k s he likes angels, too."
    In the silence of the lights we face d t he death of a friend.
    In the outer hall I could hear th e r inging of the telephone. Ker i a nswered it, then found us downstairs.
    "Rick, that was the hospital. Mary i s d ying."
    I wrapped Jenna up warmly an d s et her in the car with Keri. We drov e s eparately, so that one of us coul d b ring Jenna home when the tim e c ame. We arrived at the hospital an d t ogether opened the door to Mary' s r oom. The room was dimly illuminated by a single lamp. We coul d h ear Mary's shallow breathing. Mar y w as awake and looked toward us.
    Jenna rushed to the side of th e r eclining bed and, inserting her tin y h and through the side rails, presse d t he little angel into Mary's hand.
    "I brought you something, Mary. It' s y our Christmas present."
    Mary slowly raised the ornament t o h er view, smiled, then squeezed th e l ittle hand tightly.
    "Thank you, darling." She coughe d h eavily. "It's beautiful." Then sh e s miled into the little face. "You're s o b eautiful." She rubbed her han d a cross Jenna's cheek.
    Painfully, she turned to her sid e a nd extended her hand to me.
    I walked to her side and took it gently in mine.
    "How do you feel, Mary?"
    She forced a smile through th e p ain. "Do you know yet, Rick? Do yo u k now what the first Christmas gif t w as?"
    I squeezed her hand tightly.
    "You do understand, don't you?"
    "Yes. I understand now. I kno w w hat you were trying to tell me."
    Tears started to fall down m y c heeks. I took a deep breath to clea r m y throat.
    "Thank you, Mary. Thank you fo r w hat you've given me."
    "You found the letters in the Christmas Box?"
    "Yes. I'm sorry that I read them."
    "No, it's all right. I'm glad the letter s w ere read. They were meant to b e r ead." She fell silent for a moment.
    "I'd like you to have the Christmas Box. It's my Christmas gift to you."
    "Thank you. I will always treasure it."
    The room was quiet.
    "Andrea waits," she said suddenly.
    I smiled. "She has been very close,"
    I said.
    She smiled at me again, then lifte d h er eyes to Keri.
    "Thank you for your friendship , dear. It has meant a lot to me."
    "Merry Christmas, Mary," Keri said.
    "God bless you, child," she sai d b ack lovingly. "Take good care of you r l ittle family." She looked at Ker i t houghtfully. "You'll do fine."
    Mary closed her eyes and lay bac k i nto her pillow. Keri's eyes watered a s s he lifted Jenna and carried her out o f t he room. I stayed behind, caressin g t he smooth, warm hands for the las t t ime.
    "Merry Christmas, Mary," I whispered. "We'll miss you."
    Mary's eyes opened again. Sh e l eaned forward toward the foot of th e b ed. A smile spread across her fac e a s a single tear rolled down he r c heek. She said something too soft t o h ear. I leaned my ear near to he r m outh. "My angel," she repeated. I followed her gaze to the foot of the be d b ut saw only the green cotton hospita l g own draped over the end rail. I looked back at her in sadness. Sh e w as leaving us, I thought. It was the n t hat I heard the music. The gentle , sweet tines of the Christmas Box.
    Softly at first, then as if to fill the entir e r oom, strong and bright and joyful. I looked again at the weary