"Oh," said Andrew casually. "That's all right, then."

"Andrew," Karen said, "I've been thinking. How would you like to invite Mr. Clausen to join us tonight?"

"You could," Andrew said, licking colored sugar off his fingers, "but I don't think he can come."

"Why not?"

He gave her a patient look, lifted one shoulder and said simply, "It's Christmas Eve."

"Oh, Andrew," Karen said, laughing and shaking her head. It was impossible to be exasperated with a child on Christmas Eve for believing in Santa Claus…

While Andrew was busy with the cookies, Karen wrapped all her presents, including Tony's, and put them under the tree. Then she and Andrew went to deliver the cookies to Mrs. Goldrich and Mr. Clausen.

A man answered Mrs. Goldrich's door and introduced himself as her son, Howard. Through the open door Karen could hear voices and laughter and Christmas music being played on the radio. It made her feel glad to know that Mrs. Goldrich would be happy on Christmas Eve, at least. And somewhat relieved. She'd been feeling guilty about not inviting her landlady to join them, since she was going to invite Mr. Clausen.

But no one was home at Mr. Clausen's. After the second knock, Andrew shrugged and said, "I told you."

"Well," Karen said, "we'll just leave them here, in case he comes back." She ran downstairs and wrote a little note, telling him that he was welcome to join them if he got home in time, then tucked it under the plastic wrapping on the plate of cookies and left everything on the floor in front of his door.

By six o'clock the apartment smelled wonderfully of evergreen and chowder and corn muffins and cranberry tarts, the tree looked festive, dressed in red and white painted sycamore balls and wrapping paper ribbons, the three strings of lights twinkling in the window for all the world to see. The presents were all wrapped and under the tree-except for Andrew's, which were still mysteriously locked away in his room.

Bright with multiple coats of fresh paint, the train waited patiently on its track for the power to send it chugging triumphantly 'round and 'round the Christmas tree…

"Well," Karen said, taking a deep breath and a last look around, "I think we're ready." Good heavens, were there butterflies in her stomach?

"' 'Twas the night before Christmas,'" Andrew quoted, grinning at her as she tried in vain to flatten his cowlick. " 'And all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.'"

Not even a mouse! Karen's heart gave a guilty little bump. Then she laughed out loud and caught her son in a breathless hug. Of course, she thought, it's the night before Christmas! The whole world has butterflies tonight. Wasn't that the magic of Christmas Eve? The suspense, the anticipation, the waiting… the feeling that something wondrous was about to happen.


Tony had butterflies in his stomach when he knocked on Karen's door. The electric train's switch-box was under his arm. He felt like he was seventeen again, standing on Alison Delovitch's front porch with a florist's corsage box under his arm and cold sweat running down his armpits-his junior year, the prom, his first formal date. He'd thought he might die of nervousness that night, but it hadn't been anything compared to this.

He knew how much Karen was counting on his getting that train working in time for Christmas. He'd already taken the engine apart and cleaned and oiled everything, and straightened all the sections of track and checked all the connections. Yesterday he'd taken the box home to work on it where he could concentrate without the distraction of her presence, and he was pretty sure he'd done everything that could be done with it. But until he had a chance to hook it up, he wouldn't know how successful he'd been, and the suspense was just about killing him. He didn't want to disappoint her. He didn't think he could stand it if he let her down.

The door opened, and she was standing there, looking as pretty as he figured it was possible for a woman to look, and suddenly there didn't seem to be enough room inside him for air. So he let it out in a rush and said, "Hi. Merry Christmas."

She smiled and said, "Hi. Come in." She was wearing a long skirt with red in it, and a silky white blouse. There were soft lights shining in her eyes and in her hair. "Let me take your coat."

"Here you go, kid." He handed the switchbox to Andrew. Funny, he thought as he struggled awkwardly out of his coat, in the last week he'd probably spent more of his waking time in this house than he had in his own, and now he felt like a stranger. It was Christmas; that was it. There were too many expectations at Christmastime. Everything was supposed to work out right, nobody was supposed to be disappointed…

"Hey, cool," Andrew said. "Did you get it fixed? Can we hook it up and see if it runs?"

Karen threw him a beseeching look. Tony growled, "Nope, not yet. Not until Christmas Day."

Andrew looked a little let down, but he didn't argue. Karen clasped her hands in front of her like an old-fashioned school teacher and said, "Well, dinner's ready. Is anyone hungry?"

They ate in the kitchen, with the lights out and candles on the table, which was something Tony couldn't remember ever having done before. Everything tasted great, he supposed, although he probably wouldn't have noticed if it had been sawdust and wallpaper paste. Afterward, Karen made him a cup of instant coffee, and she and Andrew took their mugs of hot apple cider, and they all went back to the living room to open presents.

They didn't seem to know quite where to start, so Tony got the big box he'd brought for Karen from, under the tree and gave it to her. He had another box for her, a much smaller one, in his pocket. He meant to give it to her later, in private, if things worked out the way he hoped they would. He would just have to wait and see…

"Oh," Karen said, "it's beautiful!" It was an angel, made of stiffened fabric and lace. She looked up and found Tony smiling at her.

"My sister made it," he said, clearing his throat with an endearingly awkward little cough. "It goes on top of the tree."

"Well," she said softly, "let's put it up right now."

Instead of going outside in the cold to get the ladder, Tony lifted Andrew onto his shoulders and held him steady while he took the crumpled star down and put the angel in its place. Then they all stood back to admire it. The angel seemed to smile down on them, her arms spread wide in blessing and protection. It seemed so symbolic, Karen thought as she laid the star in the nest of tissue in the angel's box, put the lid on it and set it aside. She wouldn't throw the star away any more than she would throw away her memories of Bob. She would pack it away along with the other precious things from her past-things like Andrew's baby clothes and her first prom dress. Things she'd outgrown and left behind her long ago…

Andrew was opening his presents with his usual precision and nail-biting suspense, professing delight with everything, especially the mittens. "Hey, cool- now I can make really good snowballs!"

"Uh-oh," Tony said, "I'm in trouble now."

Tony's gift to Andrew was a big, glossy book about trains. "Oh, cool!" Andrew said when he saw it and was instantly engrossed.

"Ours is in here," Tony said, reaching over his shoulder to turn pages. "Look-right there. Isn't that it?"

"Hey, yeah," Andrew said excitedly. "Look, Mom, we can copy this picture when we do the writing!"

Karen agreed, hiding a smile. Our train? She wondered if Tony knew how much he'd given away with that tiny little slip of the tongue. Tenderness swelled her chest and tightened her throat as she took his present from under the tree and placed it on his lap. She sat down beside him to watch him open it, holding her hands clasped tightly together, vibrating inside with tension.

"It's a humidor," she explained as he lifted the mahogany box out of the tissue paper wrappings. "It belonged to my grandfather. My grandmother gave it to me when I was a little girl, to keep my doll clothes in. I know you don't smoke cigars, but you can keep other things in it, like-"

"It's beautiful," Tony said in a muffled voice, stroking the glossy wood with his fingertips.

"Open it," Karen whispered.

He did, and there were the cookies, wrapped and padded with plastic-green sugar Christmas trees and holly wreaths, blue sugar stars and angels, chocolate-sprinkled bells and reindeer, cinnamon imperial candy canes and funny smiling Santas.

"I told you," she said, husky and breathless with tension. "The prettiest Christmas cookies in the world."

Tony just looked at her. She could see the soft Christmas lights reflected in his eyes, along with all the things that were in her own heart that she couldn't say. The warmth in his eyes drew her; their silence enfolded them both like a web…

"My turn!" Andrew said, and they jumped a little, guiltily, hearts bumping.

He went running off to his room and was back in a moment, hiding something behind his back and commanding, "Close your eyes… okay, now you can open them."

Karen did. A small, wondering "Oh… " escaped her as Andrew placed his gift in her hands.

"I made it," he said, self-conscious and proud. "Mr. Clausen showed me how. But I could only make one, so it's for both of you."

It was Santa's sleigh and nine reindeer, on a base of rough pine bark covered with cotton snow. The sleigh was made from a matchbox, with pipe-cleaner runners, and was filled to overflowing with old-fashioned hard Christmas candy. The reindeer were made of clothespins, with pipe-cleaner antlers. The lead reindeer had a tiny red nose.

"Oh, Andrew," Karen said tearfully, "it's the best present I ever got."