Patricia Davids - Amish Christmas Joy

He checked to make sure the slice wasn’t too hot, then carried it into the living room. Valerie’s daughter was sitting upright on the sofa, struggling to keep her eyes open. He handed her the pizza. “I’ll get your milk in a minute, okay?”

She snatched the plate from him and started tearing into the pizza. He went back to put a second slice in the microwave. Clearly, one wasn’t going to be enough.

Valerie was on her feet, pacing the length of the room. “Mom’s old man doesn’t want the kid around anymore. Not that Joy is a problem. She’s not. She’s quiet as a mouse.”

“Joy, is that her name?”

“Yeah, Joy Lynn.”

“Nice.” What else could he say?

“I thought you’d be married by now. I remember how much you wanted kids.”

“I came close, but it didn’t work out. She went back with her ex.” And took her two kids with her. Another painful chapter of his life with a rotten ending. Parenthood didn’t seem to be in the plan for him. The coffee finished dripping. He took a mug out of the cupboard and began to fill it.

Valerie sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “Joy is your daughter. I thought you should know.”

He replaced the coffeepot with great care and set the mug down, amazed that he hadn’t dropped either. “What?”

“I know I should have told you sooner, but she’s your kid.”

“I don’t believe you.” Val always twisted the truth.

“Joy, how old are you?” she asked over her shoulder.

“I’m eight, Mama.”

“When is your birthday, honey?”

“You know that. December twenty-fifth. That is Christmas Day. Nana says I’m her Christmas Joy...only, she has gone to heaven, hasn’t she?” Joy’s voice faded away.

Valerie had left him in early summer. It was actually possible.

Unlike the last woman who claimed he fathered her babe.

He refused to think about that final, painful confrontation with his Amish family. He had to focus on the present problem. Gripping the edge of the counter, he glared at Valerie. “Is this some kind of joke?”

She took a step back. “No. Mom’s death made me realize that Joy should get to know you. You’re all the family she has left.”

“She has you,” he retorted, wondering what kind of mother she was. Hard to imagine the self-absorbed, party-all-night woman he’d known in that role. He glanced toward Joy in the living room and his heart skipped a beat. He had a daughter.

If Val was telling the truth, he’d missed eight precious years of his child’s life. The knowledge made him ache inside. Why had Valerie kept this from him? He would have stood by her. She had to know that.

“Mama, can I have my milk now, please? I remembered to say please. I’m being good.”

Valerie arched one thinly penciled eyebrow. “Can she have some milk, Caleb?”

He wouldn’t get his hopes up. Valerie could be lying. It was nothing new for her. He yanked open the fridge, pulled out a carton and handed it to her.

She took it, filled a glass with milk and carried it into the other room. He moved to the doorway to watch.

“Here you go. Mama left her cigarettes in the car, sweetie. Will you be okay with your daddy while I go get them?”

Joy jerked upright. “I have a daddy?” The kid sounded as surprised as he was by the news.

“Yes, you do. His name is Caleb Mast.”

“A real daddy?” Her wistful tone carried hope and wonder.

“Your real daddy,” Valerie assured her.

Joy’s eyes narrowed. She pulled back and glared at her mother. “Is he another uncle like Jimmy and Keith?”

“No. He’s your father. You’re going to love him.”

“What if I don’t?”

What if she didn’t? He wasn’t a puppy or a kitten, something a kid liked on sight. He scratched at the stubble on his cheek. He was an ex-Amish oil-rig roughneck with few manners and a job that took him away half the year. He wasn’t anyone’s idea of a daddy. He’d given up that dream.

He turned away to get the forgotten pizza from the microwave and heard the front door open and close. He carried the second slice to Joy. She smiled when she saw it and licked the milk mustache from her upper lip.

What if she is my daughter?

Did it change anything? He didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. How much bonding could happen in the short time he spent ashore? Besides, he was about to take a job on one of the rigs off the coast of Brazil. He stood next on the company list to transfer. He expected to get word to pack his bags any day. He’d be gone for a full year when the opening came through.

She finished the milk and handed him the plate with the glass. “I like pizza.”

“No kidding.”

“I like animal crackers the best. I eat all the elephants first.” She rocked as she smiled.

Thunder rumbled, closer now. Her smile vanished. She glanced fearfully at the window. “I don’t like thunder.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be gone soon.”

She gave him a hard look. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Can we have pizza tomorrow?”

Where would she be tomorrow? “You’ll have to ask your mom.”

“Okay.” She yawned widely.

He might as well get her settled. He wasn’t going to send her and her mother out into the storm. Valerie had a lot more explaining to do. He gathered the bedding and soon had Joy tucked up snugly on his sofa. She was asleep in less than a minute. He bent and brushed her hair back from her face.

A special child was given for a special reason. What reason could God have for sending Joy to him?

She was a sweet kid, but was she his sweet kid? There was testing for this kind of situation. He would insist on it. Val was up to something. He settled in his recliner and waited for her to return.

Three hours later, the storm had moved on. Morning sunlight crept in beneath the window shade. Caleb rose from the chair and opened the front door for the umpteenth time. Birds twittered in the dripping trees. The walkway and street out front were glistening wet and deserted.

Valerie hadn’t come back.

He heard a noise behind him. Turning, he saw Joy standing beside the couch. “Where’s my mama?”

“I wish I knew.”

Fear darkened her eyes. “I want my mama.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He started toward her without a clue what to do next.

She backed away. “I gotta find her.”

She darted around him and ran barefoot out the door toward the street, with Caleb close on her heels.

* * *

Leah Belier added a box of crayons to her basket as she shopped with her friend Joann Weaver in the small grocery store in the village of Hope Springs, Ohio.

“Are you taking up art in your spare time?” Joann asked with a grin.

“Nee. I noticed Emmy Chupp borrowing colors from the other students this afternoon. She loves to draw. I think she has used up the ones her mother sent with her at the beginning of the school year. I decided to get her some more.”

“For Christmas?”

“That’s still four weeks away. She needs them now. I’ll get her colored pencils as a Christmas gift.”

“That’s sweet of you. How is her father getting along? I heard he broke his leg.”

“He hasn’t been able to work at the lumberyard for several weeks. Honestly, I’m worried about the family. Emmy didn’t bring any lunch today. She told me she forgot it at home.”

“Knowing you, I expect she ate your lunch, and you went hungry.”

Leah chuckled. “It wouldn’t hurt me to miss a meal or two, but I always bring extra food just in case.”

She had shared her ample sandwich with Emmy and made a mental note to check in on the family tomorrow. As the teacher at the local Amish school, Leah kept a close eye on all her students. She was in a better position than most to see where trouble was brewing.