Chapter 13
As Fred twirled his guitar pick and watched Esther make her way down the right-hand aisle towards the front, his phone pinged. That should have been set to silent before now. Normally, he turned it off before he even got into the auditorium, but tonight, his mind was a bit jumbled.
He peeked at the message that had come in as he toggled the sound to silent. It was just three words: You’ve got this, but they were words he needed to hear. Of course, Eddie would know that. He gave a small thumbs up as he looked to where his twin was sitting behind the sound board.
Ava was seated in the row closest to the sound booth with her whole family next to her, and Fred wondered if Eddie would even be here for this service next year, or if he’d be off visiting Ava’s family at their church in Wilson’s Crossing.
As it was, Eddie was headed to the Johnstons’ house afterward for a get-together, instead of home with him and his brothers, parents, and Gran.
Things were changing. And it felt weird. Unsettling. Messed up. Like his brain.
“Merry Christmas,” Esther said as she reached him, “and my dad said to tell you the same thing, so Merry Christmas, again.”
Fred smiled. “Back atcha both.”
She held out a gift bag to him. “I got you a little something.”
That’s what she said each year.
“And I got you something, too.” He picked up his own gift bag from the front row.
“Tell Steve I bought this before you guys were a thing.” That wasn’t what he had planned to say, but for some reason he felt nervous and as if it needed to be said.
He took her gift as she took his. “And, um, I know this might be the last time we do this.” He looked at the bag in his hand because that was easier than looking at her.
“Even though I wish it wasn’t.” There. That was a start.
That should hint to her that he wanted her to still be his best friend and so much more.
“Yeah, me, too.”
That made his eyes turn towards hers. “Why?”
She shrugged and looked as close to tears as he felt. “Change.”
He blew out an audible breath. Who knew one word could knock the wind out of a guy?
He nodded. “Right. You hate change.” And he was beginning to understand why.
He was hating it, too, at the moment. But for him, this was new.
For her it wasn’t. “It’s nothing else. Never has been for you.
” He shook his head as anger or frustration or the noisy grief of rejection or some combination of those swirled inside him.
“Well, I hope you enjoy that,” he nodded to her gift.
Preferably alone and not with Steve. He wanted to say it.
How he wanted to say it, but he wouldn’t.
It was a gift. She could share it with whomever she wanted – even Steve.
Ugh. He was beginning to despise that name.
Not because the guy was bad or anything.
He seemed nice enough. It was what he represented. The final loss of Esther.
Her hand landed on his arm before he could scoot away to the safety of the platform. “What do you mean it’s never been anything more than change for me? That makes no sense.”
Okay. So this was happening. He was going to have to give her the whole picture and not just a hint. He glanced at the clock at the back of the auditorium. It had to be quick. There wasn’t too much longer until he had to be playing.
“You never wanted our friendship to change. I believe those were your words back in grade eleven.”
“I didn’t want to ruin it,” she protested softly.
He shrugged. “It’s kind of late for that now, isn’t it?”
Those were not kind words, and he knew it.
Eddie was wrong. He so didn’t have this. All he had was a jumble of angry, painful feelings churning inside of him and wanting to spew forth. This gift exchange marked an end – unless Esther chose him over Steve, which she didn’t seem to want to do.
She gasped. “I didn’t ruin our friendship. It’s just changing.”
He nodded. “Maybe. But it sure feels like it’s ending –”
Pain etched her features, and he looked away. Stating the obvious was excruciating enough without seeing the hurt in her eyes, too.
“— because I won’t come between you and what you want, which is Steve.”
He placed his gift from Esther on the chair where his gift to her had been sitting. They never opened them at church. They waited until Christmas morning. Then, they’d let each other know how much they liked it.
“So, is it okay if I send you a text tomorrow morning like we usually do? Just to let you know I like the present?” he asked. “If Steve would rather that I didn’t, just let me know.”
“He doesn’t control me,” she hissed.
Great. He hadn’t just caused her pain. He had made her mad.
“I didn’t say he did. I’m just trying to be considerate of the guy.
I mean, if I were dating you and some guy was giving you gifts and had a long history with you, I’d probably be wary of him, wondering if he still liked you and if you liked him.
That sort of thing. That’s all I’m saying. ”
Her arms were crossed. As if she were cutting herself off from him, even if only by a gate of arms. “Of course, I want to know if you liked my gift. He’ll understand that. He’s very understanding. He’s really great about everything.”
And now she was getting defensive. He didn’t need her to defend Steve to him. That wasn’t the point of this.
“Look. I hate this change as much as you do. Maybe more, since I still want to take you on that hayride.” He shook his head.
“But I won’t come between you and what you want.
That’s why you’ll get an email next week telling you that I’m stepping down from the worship team at the end of January.
I don’t want to cause an issue between you and Steve if he’s who God has for you. ”
He blew out a breath. Tears were threatening again – just like they had been when he was talking to Henry and Eddie in the kitchen. His brothers were right. He had to do it. He had to leave her with a choice. A clear choice.
“However,” he continued, “if things don’t work out there, if he isn’t God’s plan for you, maybe then you’d be willing to consider me.”
Her mouth was hanging open, and he doubted that he had ever seen her eyes as wide as they were right now.
“I have to start playing.” And he needed his heart to stop hammering in his ears and his hands to stop shaking like they were.
“You can’t say that and just walk away,” she whispered.
“I have to. Trust me, I don’t want to walk away from you or music or exchanging gifts or any of it, but I have to.
” He glanced at the clock on the back wall again.
“It’s five minutes until the service starts.
I need to play, and you need to take your seat.
” He turned to the platform and then, back to her. “Merry Christmas, Esther.”
I love you. Those three words were on the tip of his tongue.
He wanted to share them with her, but he didn’t.
He kept them right there, sitting unspoken on his tongue.
He had said enough tonight. If she didn’t know that he was a choice she could make, it wasn’t his fault. The rest was up to Esther and God.
He picked up his guitar and settling onto his stool, strummed a few chords as he offered up a silent prayer for the service as well as Esther and his own heart.
Eddie was waving his phone at the back of the auditorium when he opened his eyes at the end of his prayer, so before he began the first song, he pulled out his phone and peeked at the message from his brother.
That looked painful. You okay?
Fred shook his head and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.
He wasn’t okay. He hadn’t been okay since the day he found out Esther liked Steve.
He shook his head again. Until then, he had thought he might have a chance to convince her that their friendship could be more than just a friendship.
That it could be the kind of love that endured the trials of life until death parted them.
He flicked to the music on his tablet for “In the Bleak Midwinter.” It wasn’t the first song on the set list. But it was the song that seemed to fit with how he was feeling.
He’d get to “Oh, Come All Ye Faithful” next.
He’d make it fit. He just needed this song.
He needed to let all the troubled thoughts and emotions inside of him out somehow, and this seemed like the perfect way to do it.
“Uh, Fred?” Grant whispered as he joined him on stage to play keyboard. “Did I get the wrong set of songs?”
“Nah, I just felt like starting with this one.”
“So we’ll do a shorter version of the next one?”
Fred nodded. “One less verse.”
“Got it. And I’ll tell the others.”
Fred gave him another nod and then closed his eyes and let his whole being feel the melody of the song he played.
It was soothing. Cathartic, even. Just what he needed.
Unfortunately, it was too short to remove all the pain in his heart.
But then, he supposed there wasn’t a song long enough to do that.
This was just a start. A welcome release of some of the pain. A small balm to his troubled soul.
He drew and released a breath as the last note faded. Then, he flicked back to the scheduled songs and with a nod to Grant they launched into the song that would draw everyone into the sanctuary to begin the service.
Carefully, so that he wouldn’t see Esther, he allowed his eyes to roam most of the room, taking in the sea of green, red, black, and gold with a bright burst of blue here and a bit of pink there.
These were the hues that usually coloured the evening.
It reminded him of the wrapping paper used on the presents found under the tree on Christmas morning.
The thought brought a smile to his lips.
It was fitting that the room looked like giftwrap since tonight they celebrated the greatest gift of all – Immanuel, God with us.
“Welcome one and all to our Christmas Eve service,” Fred’s dad said when “Oh, Come All Ye Faithful” had ended.
“Whether you are here in this room with us, listening over the airwaves, or watching on a live stream, we are so glad to have you here for this evening of celebration. Before I pray and get us started on our worship time, I want to let you know that after the service, there will be cupcakes in the fellowship hall to take home with you. Stop by and get yours. Children, you will not be allowed to take one without your parent standing right next to you.”
Everyone laughed.
“And those aren’t my orders, they come from Cari and Emma who are the bakers behind the special gift. Okay, now, shall we thank the Lord for the true gift of Christmas?”
Fred tried to listen to and join with the words his father was praying.
But he couldn’t. Instead, his heart cried out to God.
Not in words, but in a moan of unutterable longing as he allowed his eyes to surreptitiously seek out Esther.
“Please, God,” he silently prayed, finding the only words that came to mind, “don’t let this be our last Christmas. ”