The Christmas Train Read Free

be there,” she added. “Don’t worry about that. He’s expecting her.”
    Anna held her breath. If the woman said no, what would her mother do? Apparently the conductors didn’t let children get on the train by themselves, which was good because Anna didn’t want to go live with her father. He was a complete stranger to her. She’d never even seen a picture of him. All she knew was his name, Tom Thurston.
    But she hated it here, too, living with her mother.
    At first Carrie had seemed okay living with Anna in Nana Rose’s house in an old neighborhood in Texarkana. But once she’d collected Nana Rose’s life-insurance money and sold the little house to the next-door neighbors for their son, she was ready to get back to her own life with her boyfriend, Eddie. She had big plans for her money, and obviously Anna didn’t fit into those plans. That’s when her mother had come up with the idea to send Anna to live with her father.
    The fact was, her mother hated being stuck with Anna again after all these years. Anna could tell. She didn’t like being a mother. Anna cramped her style, she’d said. One way or another her mother meant to get rid of her. If the old woman said yes, Anna would be put on the train, sent like a returned package back to someone else who didn’t want her.
    Neither her mother nor her father had ever wanted her.
    But Nana Rose had.
    Anna didn’t mean to cry. She hardly ever cried, especially on account of her pitiful excuse for a mother. But she was definitely leaking tears. She turned her face away, blinking hard but refusing to swipe her wet cheek with her cuff. Maybe the old lady hadn’t seen her tears. Didn’t old people have bad eyes? Nana Rose wore bifocals, and she’d had cataract surgery the year before she died.
    But Nana Rose had seen everything when it came to Anna: when she was sad; when she was scared. And now, when the old lady in the embroidered coat spoke— before she actually spoke—when she took a slow breath before the words began to come out, Anna knew she had seen the tears.
    â€œI would be happy to have her for a traveling companion,” the woman said in a faintly accented voice, as if she used to live in another country. “Traveling alone is so . . . well, so lonely.” Then she looked straight at Anna, deep into her eyes. “Is that all right with you, child? Traveling with me?”
    Anna stared back at her a long, breathless moment. There were no good choices for her here. Stay with her mother who didn’t want her, or go to her father, who also did not want her. The only adult who seemed eager for her company was this old woman, a complete stranger to her.
    â€œOf course she’s good with it.” Anna’s mother stood up, the unlit cigarette tight between her fingers. “Well, if that’s settled, I need to get going.”
    â€œ Nein . You will wait one moment while I speak to your daughter.”
    Anna blinked at the woman’s firm tone. Nein . That was German, wasn’t it?
    She peered up at her mother, who’d frozen with the unlit cigarette halfway to her mouth. The old woman had a soft look about her, but she had a steely core. Like Nana Rose.
    â€œNo problem. No problem,” Anna’s mother repeated, digging in her pocket for her lighter. “Anna, tell the nice lady. Go on, tell her you’ll be a good, what did you say? Oh, yeah, a good traveling companion.”
    Slowly Anna stood. The old lady stared right at her. Not unkindly. More . . . expectantly. Like she cared only about what Anna had to say, not Anna’s mother.
    â€œShe’s got lunch with her. I packed it myself.”
    Did not. But Anna ignored her mother, as did the old German lady.
    â€œWell, Liebchen ? Shall we travel together?”
    Anna clutched her bulging backpack to her chest. It was all she had left in the world. That and a one-way