Thomas knocked on the partially closed bedroom door. He heard his mother say “Yeah?” and he walked in. She’d changed into her sweatpants and sweatshirt after a day of interviews that didn’t go particularly well.

“You still up?” Mom asked him.

“I wanted to make sure Sara didn’t bother us.”

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to give you something.”

“Thomas—”

“Here.”

He handed her the box.

“No,” Mom said.

“What?”

“If that’s what I think it is, then no. Absolutely not.”

“Mom.”

“Sara told me what you did. You gave her one of your Christmas gifts?”

“Just open it.”

She stood there, holding the box, shaking her head.

“Thomas—I don’t know—”

“You’re not going to get all emotional, are you?”

She shook her head, laughed, and then wiped at the tears in her eyes.

“I just don’t get you,” she said.

“What?”

“I can’t . . . I mean, where’d you get that? Where?”

He looked at her, confused, then turned his gaze to the bed squished into the corner of the small room, his gift resting on top of it. Thomas felt embarrassed and nervous, like he’d done something wrong.

“What?” he asked.

“Where’d you get that heart of yours? I just—it sure wasn’t from your father. Or me.”

“Just open it.”

She shook her head and then lifted the card attached to the present.

And that was when the tears really flowed.

“Thomas,” she said after reading it.

“Keep going.”

After she opened the present to find the digital camera, Mom placed both the card and camera onto the bed and gave him a hug.

“It’s true,” he said.

Mom hugged him harder than she’d ever hugged him before. She held on to him and began to sob. He wasn’t sure if she was happy or sad.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not sad, Thomas. I’m not sad. I’m just awestruck.”

She let go of him eventually and picked up the card again.

“Was this your intent all along? When you asked for all of these things?”

“No. Not at first. But I just—it seemed like a good thing to do.”

She read the card again as if she hadn’t read it quite right the first time.

Just like Sara’s card, this one was short and sweet.

To Mom:

Merry Christmas to the prettiest girl

I’ve ever known.

Love,

Thomas

It was late and Kevin was returning from making sure Gregory was tucked in at Aunt Becky’s house. She would be watching him again while Kevin stayed at the hospital one final night with Jenny. He parked in the familiar parking lot at the hospital. Then he sighed as the cold wind blew against him. For a moment, before opening his car door, he thought about the gifts he finally delivered to the Salvation Army yesterday, then he looked up to the dark heavens.

Sometimes You make us wait too, don’t You?