Father and daughter went off to the living room after that, and Alice and the two boys stayed in the kitchen to clean up. The threesome were talking softly, but Charlotte could still hear her mother from the other room.

"She talks to herself all the time now," Charlotte confided to Jim, looking worried. Like her mother, she had noticed that her father wasn't drinking again that night, but she didn't comment on it.

"I think she talks to Bobby," he said with a sigh. "I don't know how she can. It's hard talking to someone who can't answer. I don't know what to say to him," he confided to her, and she felt a pang of sympathy for him.

"Bobby lets you know what he's thinking, if you pay attention to him," Charlotte said quietly. It was odd, but she felt as though she were making a connection with her father, for the first time in her life. She actually believed he liked and approved of her now that he'd watched her play "Do you suppose he'll ever talk again?" It was odd asking her, but she seemed unusually wise to him now, for her fourteen years.

"Mom thinks he will one day. She says it takes time." Five years. And how much more? Jim thought to himself. "Johnny used to talk to him a lot. You should shoot some baskets with him sometime, Dad."

"Does he like that?" Jim looked surprised. He had no idea what his youngest son did and didn't like, and never tried to find out.

She nodded. "He's pretty good for a kid."

"So are you," he smiled, and then he put an arm around her as they sat on the couch. He turned the television on after a while, and they watched a football game. And a little later, Bobby came and sat next to them. Johnny was in a chair, sprawled out and enjoying the scene with his siblings, and from time to time Bobby smiled at him. It was as though having Johnny there encouraged him to try his wings.

And when Alice emerged from the kitchen, and looked at them, she smiled too. In spite of her anger at her husband, she had to admit that things seemed to have improved. Ever since his accident with Charlotte, Jim had stopped drinking. It hadn't gone unnoticed, and she was afraid to mention it to him. But she was well aware that he hadn't had a drink since. And the atmosphere of the whole house seemed to have changed. She was thinking about it that night when she went upstairs to their room, and again the next day when she dropped Bobby off at school.

She was singing to herself and doing some sewing when the phone rang, and she wondered if it was Jim. He was usually the only person who called her during the day. Everyone else she knew was working. But he hadn't called her in months. Ever since Johnny died, he had been shut off from everyone, and feeling isolated, even from her.

But when she answered the phone, it wasn't Jim, but Bobby's school. He had fallen off the swing at school, and broken his wrist. The teacher was at the emergency room with him, and she said she'd be bringing him home soon. Alice was upset they hadn't called her sooner, but the teacher said they hadn't had time before they went to the hospital, and it distressed Alice not to have been with him at the hospital. But he came home ten minutes later, with a slightly groggy look. They had given him medicine for the pain. And she put him on his bed, and left him with Johnny, while the teacher waited for her.

"The doctor at the emergency room said he'd be fine soon. He has to keep the cast on for four weeks." She seemed to hesitate then, and looked as though she had something else to say. "I don't want to get your hopes up, and I could be wrong," the teacher ventured slowly into unfamiliar waters with her, "but I thought I heard him say 'ow' when he fell." Had Alice not known that he'd started talking, she would have been ecstatic, but now she just looked pensive, and told the teacher she might have misheard him. She said she had often imagined him speaking simply because she wished he would. She was not yet ready to share with the world the fact that he could speak. She wanted to protect him for as long as she could, until he was completely confident again.

"I could have imagined it." The teacher nodded. "But I don't think I did." Johnny had been insistent that Bobby go slow, and that they not tell anyone yet. And Alice wanted Jim to know before they told the world. "Maybe you should have him tested again," the teacher suggested, and Alice thanked her, and offered the woman a cup of tea before she left.

Alice had both children at home now, Charlotte with her concussion and Bobby with his broken wrist, and when Jim came home that night, late as usual, he made a fuss over both of them. He still wasn't drinking, and finally, when the kids went upstairs, Alice looked at him.

"Where have you been going after work these days?" she asked with eyes filled with suspicion. He seemed healthier, in better spirits, and more sober than he had been in years. But he was coming home later than usual every night.

"Nowhere," he said vaguely, and then he saw in her eyes everything she feared, and he felt sorry for her. "I've just been going to some meetings after work."

"What kind of meetings?" she asked, looking for clues in his eyes, and he didn't answer her for a long time. But finally his eyes met hers more honestly than they had in a long time.

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me. A lot. Are you seeing someone else?" Her breath caught as she asked the question.

He reached out and touched her hand as he shook his head. "I wouldn't do that to you, Alice. I love you. I'm sorry everything has gotten so screwed up ... with Johnny ... and Bobby's accident... and now Charlotte getting hurt.... Things sure got messed up here. And no, I'm not seeing another woman. I've been going to AA meetings. I got it, after hitting that truck the other night. It was time to stop drinking."

As she looked at him, Alice's eyes filled with tears, and he leaned over and kissed her. It was a dream come true.

"Thank you" was all she could say. And when they went to their room that night, they locked the door when they went to bed, so the children wouldn't disturb them. Johnny was nowhere in sight, and was asleep, curled up on the foot of Bobby's bed.

Chapter 10.

December was a busy month for all of them. Jim's business was taking off. He had three new clients in addition to the two he'd gotten a few months before, and his workload seemed to have increased tenfold. Alice wasn't sure if his giving up drinking had anything to do with it, but he seemed to be working harder, and earning more. And he was more relaxed than he had been in years. He was even taking some afternoons off, or leaving work early at least, to go to some of Charlotte's games. He had become her chief adviser on what he was convinced was a promising athletic career. And now he bragged about her at least as much as, if not more than, he had about Johnny. for all of them. Jim's business was taking off. He had three new clients in addition to the two he'd gotten a few months before, and his workload seemed to have increased tenfold. Alice wasn't sure if his giving up drinking had anything to do with it, but he seemed to be working harder, and earning more. And he was more relaxed than he had been in years. He was even taking some afternoons off, or leaving work early at least, to go to some of Charlotte's games. He had become her chief adviser on what he was convinced was a promising athletic career. And now he bragged about her at least as much as, if not more than, he had about Johnny.

Charlotte was basking in the warmth of it. She had just turned fifteen, and the local paper had run her photograph on the sports page. Boys were suddenly of more interest to her, and there was one in particular she liked on a local boys' team. But it was her father's company and approval she craved these days, as though she were making up for all the lost years when he had virtually ignored her. He had talked about it in his AA meetings, and even made amends to her in his Ninth Step, and Charlotte had been startled when he cried when he apologized. He had explained that it had never dawned on him that she could be the fine athlete she was, even though she was a girl. But even if she hadn't been, he would have loved her. He had just been numb for so long that he had lost her. He apologized for all the times he had dismissed her, ignored her, and celebrated Johnny's accomplishments, and never hers. His apology led to a bond between them stronger than any they'd ever had before. And when he was making amends to her, he wished that he could have made amends to Bobby too. But he still felt strange talking to him, and just looking at the child brought back waves of guilt over the accident they'd had because he had been drinking at the time.

Alice was enjoying watching the relationship develop between Charlotte and Jim. She and Johnny talked about it, and the miracle that had come into their life when Jim joined AA. Alice knew without asking him that Johnny had prodded him to it, just as he had opened his father's heart to Charlotte after all these years.

"That was quite an accomplishment," she said to Johnny while he was helping her do laundry one day. "A miracle actually. Two miracles." He had stopped drinking, and he had come to love and appreciate Charlotte in all the ways he never had.

And Bobby speaking again was another miracle Johnny could take credit for, although Bobby still wouldn't speak to anyone but Johnny and his mother. But Johnny said that when he was ready to, he would. He thought he should get more sure of himself first. But that moment seemed to be approaching daily. He smiled a lot more now, ventured out of his room more frequently, seemed more present in the family, and was doing really well in school. And when he was with Johnny and his mother, he chattered constantly, and seemed to have a million things to say, and stories to tell.

"What about you, Mom?" Johnny asked her as she started an apple pie for dinner that night. "What do you really want?" She never seemed to ask for anything.

"You," she said, as she turned to him. "I wish you could come back for good." But they both knew that was impossible, and he would have if he could. "I'm so glad you've been here for a while." He had been back for two months, but as Alice looked around at her family, she saw that he was accomplishing all the miracles for which he had come, and inevitably it worried her. Once his work was done, he would have to leave them again. They had never talked about it, but she sensed now that his work here was almost finished. "You won't just disappear, will you?" she asked, with worried eyes, as she rolled out the crust for the pie she was baking for dinner.

"No, Mom. You'll know," he said quietly. "I wouldn't do that to you." It had been hard enough surviving the shock and suddenness when he died. She couldn't bear the thought of going through that again. "You'll be ready this time," he said, reading her mind, and answering her.

"I'll never be ready for you to go," she said stubbornly, with tears in her eyes. "I wish you could stay here, just like this, forever."

"You know I would if I could, Mom," Johnny said, coming to put an arm around her. "But I promise, you'll be ready by the time I have to go. It won't ever be like last time." The memory of it, the sheer horror and agony of losing him, made her shudder, remembering those first days.

"We're lucky we've had the last two months with you," she said softly, trying to remind herself to count her blessings. "Have you already done everything you came to do here?"

"I don't think so," he said, sounding a little uncertain. It had never been absolutely clear to him what he had come for, but as things unfolded, it was easy to see all the good he'd been doing. And he himself had a sense that one by one he was accomplishing the appointed tasks. His a.s.signment had never been spelled out to him. But he could sense what was needed day by day. "I think we'll both know when that happens." But they both had a sense that it wasn't far away. Watching him she had become more intuitive too.

"And will you just vanish into thin air then?" she asked him with a look of panic.

"I told you, Mom," he said, looking far beyond his years suddenly, "I won't do that to you. They wouldn't expect it of me." He had been sent to heal, not to hurt.

"Good," she said, sounding relieved, "it would be nice to have some warning."

"I think when the time comes, we'll both know." But she was already getting that feeling, even if he wasn't. Jim had stopped drinking after years of alcoholism, he and Charlotte had bonded as never before, he was an integral part now of her athletic activities, and went to every game he could get to. And Bobby was talking, even if only in secret. "I think I still have some fine-tuning to do here."

"Well, don't rush anything," she said with a grin, and he laughed at her. "Maybe you could drag your feet just a little bit."

"I'll go real slow, Mom. I promise."

"I love you," she whispered into his neck as he hugged her. And that afternoon he went to see Becky. Things were going well at her house too.

She had been seeing a lot of Buzz, and she seemed very happy whenever Alice saw her. She no longer looked as devastated as she had in the months before. She laughed a lot more now, and she seemed more relaxed, just as Pam did. Her romance with Gavin had blossomed over the holidays, and he was talking about moving, to be closer to her.

Alice was tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the tree with Johnny late one afternoon, playing CDs of Christmas carols and singing with him, when Jim came home from work early. He had forgotten some papers at home, and decided to work on them there, and he smiled when he saw Alice tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the Christmas tree, and heard her singing.

"How did you manage the star on the top all by yourself this year?" It was a tough one to explain to him, and she just said that when the mailman came, he helped her. And Jim seemed satisfied with the story. Johnny chuckled as he listened to her and smiled broadly. He had put all the decorations on the top branches for her, as he always had.

"That was creative," Johnny teased her, and she laughed, and then said something to him when she thought Jim wasn't listening, but when he came back into the living room again, he was frowning.

"We're going to have to do something about your talking to yourself. Maybe you should go to 'Talking-to-yourself Anonymous,'" he teased. "Charlotte worries about you. She thinks it's because of Johnny."

"I guess it is, sort of. I'll get over it." All too soon, she feared. When Johnny left again, there would be no one to talk to. Not like that anyway. There was Jim, of course, and the children. But her oldest child had always been her soul mate, and still was. More than ever now. "I guess it's just become a habit," she said to her husband, as he disappeared again with his briefcase and a stack of papers.

He was still working on them when Charlotte came home from school, and Alice went to pick up Bobby, and took Johnny with her. They chatted easily all the way to Bobby's school, and he laughed at what his father had said about her talking to him.

"By the time you leave, everyone will be convinced I'm crazy," his mother complained with a rueful smile.

"That's not such a bad thing," Johnny said, lying across the backseat, and hanging his feet out the window. He was a lot taller than his father. "You can do anything you want then. 'Crazy Mrs. Peterson.' It could be very liberating, Mom. It sounds like fun."

"Not to me. I don't want people thinking I'm loony." But it was a good kind of "crazy," and such a good feeling being with him, a constant blend of seriousness and laughter and joy In the last few months, Johnny had developed even greater insight and astonishing wisdom about people and sensitive situations. He understood his father better than he ever had, and he seemed to sense Bobby's feelings and needs without even trying. He could see right into Charlotte's heart, and know everything she thought and worried about. And he was closer than ever to his mother. Sometimes they each knew what the other was thinking, without even talking. They always had been able to do that, but it was even stronger now. Theirs was a tie that defied what had happened to them, and could never be severed. And she knew that even when he left again, she would never lose him now. It was comforting knowing that, and they both smiled in precisely the same way as Bobby came bounding out of school with a box of handmade Christmas decorations he'd made in art cla.s.s.

"Perfect timing!" she said as she kissed her youngest child, and he piled into the backseat with Johnny. "Johnny and I decorated the tree today."

"How does it look?" Bobby asked, beaming at them.

"Pretty good. But it'll look better now with all your beautiful decorations." She smiled lovingly at him. He was as precious to her as Johnny was, he was just different. And she adored Charlotte too. But Johnny was part of her soul forevermore.

"Do you like 'em, Mom?" Bobby asked, holding up his favorites to her.

"Yes, I do, sweetheart. We'll put them on the tree the minute we get home." It was still another two weeks until Christmas. And everyone in the family had a lot to do. Jim was organizing an office Christmas party, and had a lot of year-end tax work to do for his many clients. Charlotte was wrapping up her basketball season, and was in the play-offs and an all-star game that she and her father were really looking forward to. And Bobby was going to be an angel in his school play All he had to do was flap his wings and walk across the stage several times. He didn't have a speaking part, for obvious reasons, but he was very much a part of it anyway. And Alice had made his costume, and finished it that week.

She and Jim weren't giving a party this year, but they had invited the Adamses to join them on Christmas Eve. Pam was bringing Gavin too. He was planning to take a week off and spend the holidays with her and the children.

And when they actually appeared on Christmas Eve, everyone was in high spirits. Alice had made homemade eggnog for them, with alcohol in theirs, and none in Jim's. And he was so jovial that Pam said she hardly recognized him. He and Gavin hit it off immediately, and within minutes, Jim was bragging about Charlotte just the way he once had about Johnny. Alice couldn't help but think of it, as she listened to him. It was just what Charlotte had always longed for, and wanted from him. For her, life had improved immeasurably since the first game her father had finally come to.

The only one who still seemed left out was Bobby. Jim still could not bring himself to deal with him easily. And Bobby only came to life when he was alone with his mother and Johnny, and chattering away with them a mile a minute, as though to make up for lost time.

Becky looked particularly pretty that night in a black velvet dress and high heels that Gavin had bought for her. He was extremely generous with Pam, and took great pleasure in helping her with the children. He enjoyed buying things for them, and doing things with them. With no children of his own, they were the instant family he had always dreamed of and never had.

He and Pam waited until after dinner to make an announcement. Gavin had just raised his gla.s.s to all of them, Adamses and Petersons alike, and he wished them all a beautiful Christmas, as Becky's youngest brother guffawed and said that was really corny. But he said it in a good-natured way that indicated they were good friends. All of the Adams children really liked him. And so did Pam. She loved him. Maybe not as much as she'd loved Mike after so many years and five kids, but more than enough to want to share her life with him. They told the a.s.sembled company over coffee and dessert that they were getting married in June. They wanted some time to find a house, and he had offered to put the kids in better schools and pay for it. He wanted the very best for them, and for Pam, or the best he could do for them at least. He was a very generous person. And all of the Petersons congratulated them, as Alice noticed out of the corner of her eye that Johnny was sitting on the floor, near the Christmas tree, and watching them. As usual, he couldn't keep his eyes off Becky. She looked lovelier than ever, and like her old self again, although there was a nostalgic look in her eye each time she talked about the things she had done with Johnny. But she was still very young and had a lifetime ahead of her. Johnny knew it, and sensed that she would be happy now without him.

"What about you?" Alice asked Becky. "You're not getting married, are you?" She was only half-teasing.

"I should hope not! She's too young!" Johnny shouted from the living room, and Bobby burst out laughing. The others looked at him, surprised, and he immediately fell back into silence, while Alice shot him a warning look, and a few minutes later, stepped into the living room to scold Johnny.

"Have you gotten into the eggnog? What are you doing shouting like that?"

"No one can hear me, Mom, except you and Bobby. I can shout all I want, and sing, and do cartwheels," he said, demonstrating one for her, and nearly crashing into the coffee table.

"I think you need some exercise or something."

"I'm just having fun," he smiled at her as she shook her head and went back to the others. Johnny was doing push-ups next to the Christmas tree when she left him, and singing as loud as he could.

"What were you doing in there?" Jim asked gently. Pam had commented while she was gone that she was still talking to herself a lot of the time. And Charlotte said she always did now, when she was in the kitchen alone or in their bedroom before Jim came up at night. She sounded just like she was talking to a friend or something. "I think she imagines she's talking to your brother," he said softly, but even more than the others, he worried about her. She seemed so well balanced and sane, but it was obvious to all of them that she hadn't recovered from her son's death, and maybe never would, particularly not if she was "talking" to him. It was particularly poignant as it was their first Christmas without him.

"I was just making sure the Christmas tree lights were on," Alice said, looking unconcerned, when Jim asked her what she'd been doing. It sounded like a reasonable explanation, but didn't explain the whispered conversation that Jim had heard when he stood in the doorway and listened to her. He just hoped she'd get over it eventually, and regain her balance again. He was feeling closer to her than he had in a long time.

They talked about Pam and Gavin's wedding after that, and all their plans. They knew exactly what kind of house they wanted. And once they found it, and got it ready for themselves, they were going to put Pam's house and his in L.A. on the market. The children said they'd be sad to leave their old house, but they were excited about everything Gavin had said to them. He had even promised to buy a boat to use on the lake next summer.

And then Pam turned to Becky, and told her to share her news with them. She blushed for a minute, and Johnny panicked as he watched her. He had come back to the table to sit in one of the chairs Becky's siblings had vacated. They had all gone upstairs with Bobby and Charlotte, to watch videos in Charlotte's bedroom.

"She's not getting married, is she, Mom?" he asked with a terrified expression, not that he could stop her now, or even wanted to, but in some ways, he still hated her being with someone else, and he knew he had to get over it. He wanted her happiness, but he still felt a pang when he thought of bowing out of her life. He had introduced Buzz to her, and he didn't begrudge her her happiness, and yet all he wanted when he looked at her was to put his arms around her one last time. But since she couldn't see him, he couldn't. He held her hand sometimes, but she had no sense of it. The only people he could hug and kiss and touch were Bobby and his mother. And he couldn't help wondering what would have happened if Becky had been able to see him the way they did. Maybe that was why that hadn't been allowed to happen. If it had, it would have been even harder for him to leave when the time came.

"What's your news, Becky?" Alice prodded. Johnny looked as though he were about to explode as he waited.

"I got a scholarship," she said, sounding very modest about it. "At UCLA. I'm starting in January. And Buzz is going back to school then too. He really helped me get it," she said, looking very happy.

"No, he didn't," Johnny said petulantly, as his mother looked at him, "I did." Alice nodded, as though agreeing with him, but she couldn't say anything with all the others watching her.

"That's wonderful, dear," she said, knowing how proud Pam must be of her. She had gotten a full scholarship, and was planning to be an art major. Alice had collected at least a dozen sketches of Johnny from her over the years, and she was very good. She said she wanted to take art history cla.s.ses too, and be an art teacher when she graduated. Johnny had always thought it would be a great career for her. And she was on her way now.

After dinner, Pam went out to the kitchen to help Alice clean up, and the two men went into the living room to discuss business, and taxes, politics, and sports, while Johnny sat with them. It wasn't a conversation that interested him much, but he was afraid he would make his mother seem odd if he went out to the kitchen with her, and made too many comments to her that she would be tempted to respond to. It seemed better to stay away from her, so he sat in a chair and listened to his father and Gavin talk, and then he saw Becky going upstairs to join the others, and instinctively he followed her. But she didn't turn toward Charlotte's room, where the others were watching videos. Instead, she walked soundlessly to Johnny's room, opened the door, and slipped quietly inside before anyone could notice. She shut the door behind her, and stood there for a long moment, breathing in his familiar smell, and she lay down on his bed in the moonlight and closed her eyes. He was standing right next to her, and he gently touched her hand, but she couldn't feel it, except in her heart. She could feel his presence in the room with her, and a strange peace seemed to fill her.

She knew his room so well, and him, and his life, all his dreams, and the things he had once hoped for, all the secrets they'd shared with each other.

"I love you, Johnny," she whispered, and closed her eyes, as he looked at her.

"I love you too, Becky. I always will." And then as though a force greater than him made him say it, "I want you to be happy. You're going to have a great time in college ... and if you want to be with Buzz, and he makes you happy," he nearly choked on the words but knew he had to say them anyway, "I just want you to have a good life, with him, or someone else. You deserve it, Becky. You know I'll always love you." She nodded, as though she could hear him, in her head, in her heart, in the dreams they had once shared. She felt peaceful and warm, and after a long time, she got up, and wandered around the room, touching his photographs and treasures and trophies. She stood for a long time, looking at her favorite photograph of him. She had the same one next to her bed at home, but there was one of Buzz there now too. But as she looked at Johnny's picture now, it was as though she could really see him.

"I'll always love you, Johnny," she whispered, and there were tears in his eyes when he answered her.

"I will too, Becky. Have a great life now," he told her, and meant it, and she nodded and then wandered to the door of the room, and stood there for a long time. And then, without another word, she left the room, and closed the door silently behind her. She had a sense of peace and freedom and joy that she hadn't had since he died, and when she went to find the others in Charlotte's room, she was smiling as she wiped her eyes. In an odd way, she felt as though she had just said goodbye to Johnny, in a way she could live with. Not with the wrenching agony of six months before, but with a sense of love and peace and letting go. She knew that she would always take him with her now. But she was ready to move on.

The Adamses left at eleven-thirty, just as the Petersons were getting ready to go to midnight ma.s.s, and they all hugged and kissed and wished each other a Merry Christmas. The Adams troop drove off in the van Gavin had bought to chauffeur them, and the Petersons waved as they drove off. There were only four of them now. To Charlotte and Jim, it was so obvious that someone was missing. But Johnny was sitting between Charlie and Bobby in the backseat, as his parents chatted, and Jim put on a tape of Christmas carols. In a way, the holidays were painful for all of them this year, but they had to count their blessings too, and lately there had been a lot of them.

Jim dozed through part of the service, and Charlotte fidgeted, as Alice closed her eyes and listened to the music. Every now and then she opened them, and smiled at Bobby and Johnny and Charlie. They were her real Christmas gifts, as Jim was now. She had never been happier with them.

The only thing that marred the day for her was that on the way home she complained to Jim that she had indigestion.

"It's not your ulcer again?" he asked, looking worried. She had been so desperately sick in October that he had nearly lost her, and the memory of that filled him with terror now, but she was quick to rea.s.sure him.

"I just ate too much turkey," she said easily, and Pam's mince pie had been a little heavy. But she forgot about it as they got back to the house, and she started to usher Bobby up to bed. He was wide awake, and he hesitated as she took his hand, and he looked up at her, as though to ask her a question. And she wasn't entirely sure what he meant by it. He just stood there, staring at her, and then at his father, and suddenly she wondered. She looked over at Johnny and he was smiling as he nodded at Bobby. And suddenly Alice understood, as tears filled her eyes, and she looked tenderly at her husband. "I think Bobby has something to say to you," she said as Jim and Charlotte watched him. Bobby's eyes never left his father's. It was as though it was something he owed him, and had for a long time, and now he was going to give it to him. It was the Christmas gift that would mean more to Jim than any other for the rest of his life.

"Merry Christmas, Dad," Bobby said softly, as Jim stared at him and then choked on a sob, as he reached his arms out to him, and held him tight, as the others watched them.

"What happened to you?" Jim asked hoa.r.s.ely. "How did this happen?" He looked from his son to his wife, as Charlotte cried, and Johnny smiled benevolently on them. He was so proud of all of them, his brother, his dad, Charlie for all she'd done and accomplished, and his mom for all she had endured and believed in, and given.

"I just started talking to..." Bobby caught his mother's eye, which warned him to be careful, and not give away their secret,"... to myself.... I've been practicing since Thanksgiving."

"And you waited all this time to tell me?"

"I had to," Bobby said with a smile, "you weren't ready." Jim pondered the meaning of his words for a moment, and then nodded agreement.

"Maybe I wasn't. But I am now." It was as though the last five painfully silent years had vanished in a single moment.

"I love you, Dad," Bobby whispered as his father held him.

"I love you too, son," Jim said, taking his hand, and the two walked up the stairs, hand in hand, and Alice watched them, feeling the true wonder of Christmas.