Silent Night Read Free

street and opened it and saw the name and address of the owner. She’d walked three blocks to return it even though by then her arthritis was so bad that every step hurt.
    The woman who owned it had looked through it and said that a twenty-dollar bill was missing.
    Grandma had been so upset. “She practically accused me of being a thief.”
    That memory had flooded Cally the minute she touched the wallet. Suppose it did belong to the lady in the rose coat and she thought Cally had picked her pocket or taken money out of it? Suppose a policeman was called? They’d find out she was on probation. They wouldn’t believe her any more than they’d believed her when she lent Jimmy money and her car because he’d told her if he didn’t get out of town right away, a guy in another street gang was going to kill him.
    Oh God, why didn’t I just leave the wallet there? she thought. She considered tossing it in the nearest mailbox. She couldn’t risk that. There were too many undercovercops around midtown during the holidays. Suppose one of them saw her and asked what she was doing? No, she’d get home right away. Aika, who minded Gigi along with her own grandchildren after the day-care center closed, would be bringing her home. It was getting late.
    I’ll put the wallet in an envelope addressed to whoever’s name is in it and drop it in the mailbox later, Cally decided. That’s all I can do.
    Cally reached Grand Central Station. As she had hoped, it was mobbed with people rushing in all directions to trains and subways, hurrying home for Christmas. She shouldered her way across the main terminal, finally making it down the steps to the entrance to the Lexington Avenue subway.
    As she dropped a token in the slot and hurried for the express train to Fourteenth Street, she was unaware of the small boy who had slipped under a turnstile and was dogging her footsteps.

2

    â€œG od rest you merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay . . .” The familiar words seemed to taunt Catherine, reminding her of the forces that threatened the happily complacent life she had assumed would be hers forever. Her husband was in the hospital with leukemia. His enlarged spleen had been removed this morning as a precaution against it rupturing, and while it was too early to tell for sure, he seemed to be doing well. Still, she could not escape the fear that he was not going to live, and the thought of life without him was almost paralyzing.
    Why didn’t I realize Tom was getting sick? she agonized. She remembered how only two weeks ago,when she’d asked him to take groceries from the car, he’d reached into the trunk for the heaviest bag, hesitated, then winced as he picked it up.
    She’d laughed at him. “Play golf yesterday. Act like an old man today. Some athlete.”
    â€œWhere’s Brian?” Michael asked as he returned from dropping the dollar in the singer’s basket.
    Startled from her thoughts, Catherine looked down at her son. “Brian?” she said blankly. “He’s right here.” She glanced down at her side, and then her eyes scanned the area. “He had a dollar. Didn’t he go with you to give it to the singer?”
    â€œNo,” Michael said gruffly. “He probably kept it instead. He’s a dork.”
    â€œStop it,” Catherine said. She looked around, suddenly alarmed. “Brian,” she called “Brian.” The carol was over, the crowd dispersing. Where was Brian? He wouldn’t just walk away, surely. “ Brian ,” she called out again, this time loudly, alarm clear in her voice.
    A few people turned and looked at her curiously. “A little boy,” she said, becoming frightened. “He’s wearing a dark blue ski jacket and a red cap. Did anyone see where he went?”
    She watched as heads shook, as eyes looked around, wanting to help. A woman pointed behind them to the lines of people