My Kind of Christmas

son to raise, a little boy who looks just like his dad and is smart as the devil. I’m not going to raise him in a gray cloud of longing. I want to tell him about Uncle Paddy and the things you and his dad used to do. I’d like you to be there at his high school graduation. But not as a replacement for his father. We need you for who you really are. Daniel’s godfather. Jake’s best friend. My best friend.”
    He was quiet for a moment. “You sound fierce. I’ve never heard you sound like that before.”
    She laughed, but there was a hitch in her laugh. “I guess Jake grew very perfect in your memory. But then, you weren’t usually around for the fights....”
    “Fights?”
    “Paddy, you were with him at the bar while I was in labor! He kept telling me to hang in there.”
    Patrick ran a hand around the back of his neck; he hung his head. “Yeah, poor form…”
    “If you hadn’t gotten him out of there, you might’ve been the one having to say ‘breathe’ and ‘push.’”
    “God,” he muttered, remembering. “I haven’t been thinking clearly.”
    “I know. All this talk of taking me back to Charleston to live there in your house with you… Please. No. Maintaining a good relationship is hard enough when you actually marry someone you’re crazy in love with—why would I risk my future to a friend who means well? That’s not the recipe for a happily-ever-after. Paddy, please, let go and find your own girl. Jake’s girl is moving on as best she can.”
    Again, he was very quiet.
    “Well, to be honest, I did meet a girl....”
    “Thank God.”
    “She’s amazing. I said goodbye to her this morning so I could catch my flight to Oklahoma. But I’ve never met anyone like her—she doesn’t let anything stop her. She’s so young, but still unbelievably brave and determined. Kind of like Jake and I used to be back in those Academy days—even though we were scared to death, we tried not to let it show. She’s powerful like that. Full of love and goodwill and a desire to make a difference, to live a positive and authentic life. And she’s also beautiful and funny. She’s small and looks like she could be fragile, but don’t be fooled—she’s strong. Stronger than I am.”
    “The girl who made the operation happen.”
    “Yeah, that’s her. She took it on without being asked and she did it. She’s good to the marrow of her bones. Kind and loving.”
    “Exactly what you need,” she said, but her voice had grown thick.
    “Marie? Are you crying?”
    In a voice so soft he could barely hear, she said, “He used to say things like that about me.... Go get her, Paddy. It’ll be worth it. I promise you.”
    * * *
    Angie allowed herself to cry once Paddy had left, but she knew that wallowing wasn’t going to make this any easier. So she showered and dressed and just before noon, she called her uncle Jack’s house and her aunt Brie answered.
    “What are you doing there?” Angie asked.
    “Your mom and I are whipping together an early dinner while Mel cleans up after us. Jack’s going to be here this afternoon, but he and Mike are going to work the bar at around six—that tree keeps it hopping until late. Are you okay?”
    “Yes, I’m fine.”
    “Did Patrick leave?”
    “This morning.”
    “Will you come over? Join us?” Brie asked.
    “Sure. But I’m coming back here to sleep, so let’s not even argue about it.”
    “I thought it was pretty clear, you’re on your own,” Brie said. “Come on, baby. Come to your auntie Brie. I’ll let you try on my clothes and wear my makeup,” she said, bringing to memory the days when Angie was a little girl and Brie a young woman.
    Angie laughed, but there was a lump in her throat. “See you, then,” she said. But she wasn’t sure she could hold it together with her family. If they felt sorry for her, she might crumble.
    When she got to Jack and Mel’s, she let herself in. There was lots of activity in the kitchen and dining room; Emma and Ness were running through the house. Grandpa was tucked away in the recliner in the corner, dozing, the newspaper spread over him like a blanket. Angie’s sisters were sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace and they instantly shot to their feet and stared. Tall, lean, nineteen-year-old Jenna had her hands in the back pockets of her jeans; twenty-one-year-old Beth crossed her arms protectively over her chest and hugged herself. Both of them looked as though they’d just witnessed an