They shifted on the couch, turning to look east out the window where the sun's early light was just cresting the tree-line of the park. Nest watched in silence as Bennett drew Harper's small body close to her own and pointed.
"You know what that is, Harper?" she asked softly. "Remember what I told you? That's angel fire. Isn't it beautiful?"
"Bootiful."
"Remember what Mommy told you about angel fire? At the beginning of every day, the angels go all over the world and gather up a little bit of the love that mommies have for their babies. They take bits and pieces, just scraps of it really, because mommies need most of it for themselves, to keep their babies safe. But the angels gather as much as they can, and they bring it all together, before anyone's awake, and they use it to make the sunrise. Sometimes it's really bright and full of colors, like today, because there is more love to spare than usual. But there is always enough to make a sunrise, enough to begin a new day."
She went silent then, lowering her head into Harper's thick hair. Nest slipped past them down the hall to her bedroom. Once inside, she stripped off her running clothes and went into the bathroom. She took a long shower, washed her hair, dressed, and put on makeup, wondering all the while what she was going to say to Bennett. Maybe nothing, she kept thinking. Maybe it was better to just leave things alone.
She was just about to go out and start breakfast when she noticed the message light blinking on her answer machine.
There was one message.
"Hi. It's Paul. I thought I might catch you in, but I guess you're already up and about. Or maybe sleeping, but I bet not. Not you. Anyway, I just wanted to say 'Hi' or maybe 'Merry Christmas.' I've been thinking about you lately. Haven't talked with you for a while, so I decided to call. Hope you're doing okay. Anyway, I'll try again later. Bye."
The machine offered its programmed choices, delete, save, or replay, and she hung up. She stared at the phone, still sitting on the bed. She hadn't heard from Paul in months. Why was he calling her now? Maybe he just wanted to talk, like he said. Maybe it was something else. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.
She went out of her bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen. She was pulling out pots and pans and cooking utensils, trying to decide on a breakfast menu, when Bennett came in and took a seat at the old kitchen table.
Nest glanced over. "Morning."
"Morning," Bennett replied, holding her gaze only a moment before her eyes slid away. She looked a wreck, much worse than Nest had thought earlier. "Can I do something?"
Nest saw Harper playing alone in the living room, content for the moment. "Make yourself some coffee, why don't you?"
Bennett rose and walked over to the machine. She was pulling down the box of filters and opening the coffee tin when her hands began to shake. She couldn't seem to stop them, but continued to try to set the filter in place in the machine, dropping it to the floor in the process.
Nest walked over and took her hands, holding them firmly in her own. "Nobody said this was going to be easy."
Bennett's face turned sullen and stiff. "I'm all right. Leave me alone."
"Where were you last night, Bennett?"
"Out, Nest. Look, I don't want to talk about it, okay? Just leave me alone!"
She wrenched her hands away and threw herself back down at the table, biting her lip. Nest stayed where she was, watching. Then she turned away and began to make the coffee herself.
"You want me to leave?" Bennett asked after a moment, head lowered in the veil of her dark hair. "Just say the word. Harper and I can be gone in a flash. We don't have to stay here."
"I want you to stay," Nest said quietly.
"No, you don't! You want me out! Admit it, okay? Don't lie to me! You want your life back the way it was before I showed up!"
Nest finished with the coffee and walked back to the stove, deciding on pancakes and sausage. "Well, we don't always get what we want in life, and sometimes what we get is better than what we want anyway. Gran used to say that all the time. I think having you and Harper and John and Little John for Christmas is a good example of what she meant. Don't you?"
She waited a minute and then turned around. Bennett was crying, her head buried in her hands, her shoulders hunched and still. Nest walked over and knelt beside her.
"I don't even have a present for her!" Bennett's voice was a whisper of despair and rage. "Not one shitty present! I don't even have the money to buy one! What kind of mother does that make me?"
Nest put her arm around Bennett's shoulders. "Let's make her one, then. You and me. Something really wonderful. I used to do that with Gran, just because Gran liked making presents rather than buying them. She felt they were more special when you made them. Why don't we do that?"
Bennett's nod was barely perceptible. "I'm such a loser, Nest. I can't do anything right. Anything."
Nest leaned closer. "When the holiday is over, Bennett, you and I are going to see a man who works with addicts. He's very good at it. He runs a program out of a group home he supervises. You can live there if you want, but you don't have to. I like him, and I think you will, too. Maybe he can help you get straight."
Bennett shook her head. "Sure, why not?" She didn't sound like she believed it. She sighed and buried her face in her hands, the sobs ending. "God, I hate my life."
Nest left her and went back to the stove. She worked on breakfast until the coffee was ready, then poured a cup and carried it over to Bennett, who hadn't moved from the table. Bennett drank a little, then rose and began setting the dining-room table. After a while, John Ross and Little John appeared, the boy going straight to the couch to kneel facing out the window once more. Harper stared at him for a while from where she sat on the floor, then went back to playing.
They ate breakfast in the dining room with the lights on. The sky clouded over again and the sun disappeared from view until it was only a pale hazy ball, the air turned gray and wintry in its absence. Outside, cars moved on the street like sluggish beetles, the whine of snow tires and the rattle of chains marking their passage. Andy Wilts came by from the Texaco station to plow out the drive with his four-by-four. Bennett talked with Harper about snow angels and icicle lollipops, and Nest talked about driving out to get a Christmas tree, now that she had company for the holiday. Ross ate in silence, and the gypsy morph looked off into space.
When they were clearing off the table and putting the dishes in the dishwasher, there was a knock at the front door. Nest glanced out the curtained window and saw a county sheriff's car parked in the drive. Not again, she thought immediately. Leaving Bennett to finish loading the dishes, she walked down the hall, irritated at the prospect of having to deal with Larry Spence yet again. What could he possibly want this time? Ross was in his room, so maybe she could avoid another confrontation.
"Good morning, Larry," she said on opening the door, fighting down the urge to tell him what she really wanted to say.
Larry Spence stood stiffly in front of her, hat in hand, bundled up in his deputy sheriff's coat. "Morning, Nest. Sorry to have to bother you again."
"That's all right. What can I do for you?"
He cleared his throat. "Well, it might be better if I could come in and we could talk about it there."
She shook her head. "I don't think so. We tried that yesterday, and it didn't work out very well. You better tell me what you want right here on the porch."
His big frame shifted. "All right. We'll do it your way." His tone of voice changed, taking on a slight edge. "It's about the drug dealing in the park. It's still going on. There was a major buy last night. Witnesses saw it going down and called it in. It's possible that someone staying in your house was involved."