Chapter 15
JASON
The night of the children’s choir performances the church was alight with excitement and all decorated for Christmas.
Poinsettias had been arranged in two rows along the altar steps, and an advent wreath hung from a wrought-iron stand at the front of the chancel, four of its five candles already burning.
Fresh garlands had been wrapped around the pulpit, casting their unmistakable Christmas piney scent.
No one could smell that and not believe that God had indeed made the world a beautiful place.
Jason and Mauve had come forty minutes early so they could get a seat in the front row.
Jason had attended this church when he was a child.
He had many fond memories of Sunday school and church potlucks.
He never grew tired of the beautiful stained glass window depicting Jesus as the Good Shepherd carrying a lamb across his shoulders.
The side windows along the nave were smaller and simpler, with a dove descending in pale blue and white, a cross wrapped in grapevines, and Mary holding the infant Jesus.
To him, it was the perfect country church, with its white steeple and red doors. A perfect place for a wedding.
He pushed that thought aside before he got carried away to fantasy land. He had to get her to say yes first.
While they waited, Jason and Mauve talked quietly, heads together, reassuring the other that Ollie would be just fine.
“He’s practiced so much.” Mauve drew in a deep breath and tented her hands under her chin. “I just hope the crowd doesn’t scare him.”
“All those eyes on him,” Jason concurred.
“But maybe he’ll shine. He’s been so animated during our practices.
” They’d had their last one just that morning, with Mary, bless her, on a video call with them.
She’d declared Ollie fully ready and had signed how proud she was of him.
Ollie had signed back that he was proud of Ollie too.
Which had made Mary and Jason laugh. The more comfortable he became, the more his charismatic personality really came out for all to see.
Jason knew he would show everyone how special he was—if he kept his nerves in check.
Please God, make it so, Jason prayed silently.
Jason turned to look behind them just as Reese, Roan, and their boys took seats near the back. He spotted Sarah and Ben on the other side of the aisle, also in the front row with Nadia between them, the little girl on her knees facing backwards to watch people file in and find seats.
They’d saved places for Cynthia and David. They arrived a few minutes before the concert started, apologizing for cutting it so close. They’d been delayed at the inn waiting for their car.
“I’m glad you’re here, Mom,” Mauve said.
“We’re happy to be included. I’m going to try not to cry,” Cynthia said, patting her daughter’s hand. “I’m very proud of you.”
Mauve’s mother had said how proud she was of her a lot in the last few days. Mauve would never tire of hearing it.
“This was all Jason,” Mauve said.
“No, it’s all you,” Jason said. “You’re the one who cared enough to think of ways to bring Ollie out of his shell.”
Lights dimmed—and Mrs. Jones came out to welcome them all. “The children have been working hard to bring you some Christmas spirit through music. We’ll start with our kindergarteners.
The kindergarten kids, wearing reindeer antlers and red sweaters, sang “The First Noel” in close to a dozen different keys. Regardless, the congregation clapped warmly, other than those with phones in their hands, recording sweet memories.
Then the combined first, second, and third grade classes came out, dressed in green instead of red and no antlers. That was a relief. Ollie hadn’t practiced with anything on his head.
The children climbed the risers and arranged themselves in three tiers, the smallest in front.
Ollie took his place to the left where a small chair had been placed between the risers and the piano.
The spotlight above it was already lit. Ollie stood in front of the chair, his hands at his sides.
He looked adorable with his hair combed neatly and a green sweater paired with black trousers.
From what Jason could see, he didn’t appear to be nervous at all.
In fact, he grinned at the audience and waved to his family.
Nadia shouted, “Hi, Ollie! Can you see me?”
A ripple of laughter floated through the room as Ollie waved at his sister.
Mrs. Jones stood just feet away from the children, adjusting her wire-rimmed glasses before lifting a hand toward the piano.
The pianist played the opening notes and then the children started to sing, the first line coming out a little ragged but together. “Frosty the snowman was a jolly happy soul.”
Ollie lifted his hands in time with the line.
“Frosty”—the small shivering motion he'd invented in Mauve's office, hands cupping an imaginary ball of snow at his chest, shoulders hunched and a tiny theatrical shudder.
“Snowman”—both hands loose, palms facing each other, drawn down through the air in the shape of three stacked balls.
Then he brushed his flat hand up his chest for “jolly happy soul,” and his face opened into the cheap-seats grin he and Jason had practiced.
Mauve's hand closed around Jason’s.
“With a corncob pipe and a button nose and two eyes made out of coal.” Ollie's invented corncob pipe, two fingers held to the corner of his mouth and a small flick.
The button sign was a twist of his finger at his cheek.
For eyes he pointed at his own, two quick taps.
For coal he made the sign for black, with his index finger drawn straight across his forehead.
The class kept singing, accompanied by the piano.
Jason had drilled the rhythm for two weeks now, telling him, don't outrun the music, don't lag behind the music, let your hands be the same speed as the words.
Ollie was doing so well, sitting right inside the beat, his face moving with the song.
Sad on the “thumpity-thump-thump” line, where Frosty has to leave.
Bright again when the children come back into the lyric.
He had figured out how to act with his eyebrows, and, from twenty feet away under a single spotlight, it was working perfectly.
The class went into the bridge.
“Thumpity-thump-thump, thumpity-thump-thump, look at Frosty go.” Ollie made small drumming motions with his hands on his thighs for “thumpity-thump-thump,” and then he made the sign for go with both hands traveling out in front of him, palms forward, like he was pushing Frosty out into the world.
Ollie did it with such intention, his palms square, arms straight, whole body angled forward that he looked like a kid earnestly telling his friend the snowman to go and live his life.
The gesture hit Jason hard. He didn’t want to go and live his life without Mauve or Roan and his family. He wanted to live it right here. How did one reconcile that with ambition? There had to be a way.
Then the last verse.
“Frosty the snowman had to hurry on his way.” Ollie signed “hurry” with his hands tipping quickly forward, one then the other. He signed “way” with a flat hand traveling along an invisible road. He came to the last line and Jason’s eyes filled.
But he waved goodbye, saying, ‘Don't you cry, I’ll be back again someday.’”
Ollie lifted his right hand and made a small clean wave.
Then he made the sign for cry, two fingers traced down his cheeks, and shook his head, no, don't. Then he pointed at his chest, I, and signed come back with his hand returning toward himself, and then someday, a gentle small sign with one finger circling forward in the air like a clock hand reaching for tomorrow.
The piano landed on the final chord. For a second the room was quiet before it erupted into clapping and cheering.
Jason turned to look at Ollie’s family just as Nadia stood up, raised both fists over her head, and screamed her brother's name at the top of her four-year-old lungs.
“Ollie! That’s my brother.”
The room laughed. Sarah dabbed at her eyes. Ben simply beamed with pride, his gaze on his son. Mrs. Jones placed a hand against her chest and nodded at Ollie, mouthing, “Well done.”
Ollie bowed like a royal prince, waist deep, with one arm tucked across his stomach and the other arm out behind him. He came up grinning.
Mrs. Jones lifted both hands, and the rest of the class bowed too, although without the flourish of young Ollie.
After the fourth and fifth graders performed and the concert officially ended, the church emptied slowly, with people chatting and congratulating children.
All the elements of a sweet night in Sugarville Grove, Jason thought.
Community. Family. God. A brave little boy who had won the heart of every person there that night.
What a priceless night. Not even the Oscars could feel as good as he felt right now.
He’d done something that actually mattered.
“That was really something,” Cynthia said.
“I’ve never seen anything more adorable,” David said, patting Jason’s shoulder. “Well done.”
“Thank you. It was fun. More of a gift to me than to anyone else,” Jason said, meaning every word.
Sarah Chambers met them at the end of the second pew with her arms already out. She hugged Mauve with a long, hard hug and then did the same to Jason. “Thank you for giving my boy dignity, even though he’s different.”
Ben, behind her, nodded. “You have no idea how much this means to our family.”
“We’re very proud of him,” Mauve said, wiping her eyes. “It was absolutely beautiful.”
Ollie came running up to them, a wide grin still on his face.
“How’s it going, bud?” Jason asked.
Ollie made the sign for happy, brushing his hand up his chest.
“You killed it,” Mauve said.
His throat was tight, but Jason managed to say, “You were a real star tonight, bud. Truly.”
“He was the best one,” Nadia said.
“He was,” Mauve said, laughing. “He was spectacular.”
Cynthia and David had been waiting quietly. Mauve gestured for them to join them, then introduced them to Ben and Sarah and the kids.
“We’re grateful for Mauve in this town,” Sarah said. “She does a lot of good.”
“I can see that.” Cynthia beamed as she glanced at her daughter. “She was always amazing—and still is.”
“We’re going for pizza to celebrate,” Sarah said. “If anyone wants to join us?”
“We would, but we have plans already,” Mauve said. “Thank you.”
“But we’ll be here through Christmas,” Cynthia said. “So maybe another night?”
“We’d love that,” Ben said. “Now let’s go get some grub, Chambers family.”
Nadia cheered. Ollie signed yes. Soon, they were off, a family of four facing life together.
That’s what it was all about. Finding those you love and keeping them close, supporting them in good and bad times. That’s what he wanted. A family. With Mauve. A life here where he could be part of something bigger than himself.
“I’ll tell you what,” David said as they made their way out of the church. “I’m ready to buy a second home here.”
“Really?” Mauve asked.
“We want to be with family, especially since I plan to retire and enjoy life with your mom. We could spend part of the year here. Christmas. Summertime. Or whenever.”
Cynthia was watching Mauve’s face. “What do you think, honey?”
Mauve looked down at her feet, clearly trying to control her emotions. Her voice shook when she said, “I’m not sure. Things are kind of up in the air for me right now.”
Mother and daughter locked gazes. Cynthia gave a little nod. “Yes, well, you get that sorted out and then we’ll talk some more.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Jason turned to Mauve, and, to his horror, she had started to cry. Cynthia wrapped her arms around her daughter as the rest of them looked away. Except for Jason. He watched it unfold in front of him, helpless, and wondered what in the world was going through Mauve’s mind.
David put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go wait outside. Give them a moment.”
Jason nodded, following David out to the parking lot. They stood under the stars near David’s car, not saying anything for a moment. Jason buttoned his jacket against the cold.
“You want some advice?” David asked.
“Sure.” He held his breath, waiting for whatever judgment was about to come out of the man’s mouth.
“Don’t take Mauve away from here. She’s part of a community. She belongs here. You know that, I think.”
“I do.” He reached into his coat pocket and brought out the box with the ring hidden inside its tufts.
“I’m going to ask her tomorrow. And I’m going to show her plans for a house I’m going to build for her on my family’s property.
And I’m going to turn down jobs and be super picky about what I do so I can make a family right here with the woman I love. ”
“I’ve spent most of my life working,” David said. “I missed a lot. I’m glad you’re not going to make the same mistakes I made.”
Jason looked up at the stars, wondering if his mother was up there watching over him. “I know it’s rare to find what Mauve and I have. I’m finally getting that through my thick head. I’ve decided, there’s nothing I won’t do to keep her.”
“Good man.”
Mauve and Cynthia were making their way toward them. Jason peered closely at Mauve. She seemed lighter. Less emotional. Whatever her mother had said had dried up the tears at least. It was now his job to make sure she didn’t cry again. Ever.
On the way home, under that vast Vermont sky, Jason reached over to take Mauve’s hand. “Can I have you all to myself tomorrow? I have a surprise for you.”
She looked over at him, her eyes glittering in the light of a passing car. “I have a surprise for you too.”
“I’ll pick you up at noon.”
“I’ll be ready.” She turned to gaze out the window, a little sigh making the glass foggy, as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
He would fix it. Tomorrow.