CHRISTMAS VIGIL

by

CQB

CHAPTER 1

THE CHAPTERS

INTRO

PREFACE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

“B-but I want to go, too!”  

Laura Hardy’s heart broke as she looked at her younger son.  The seven-year-old blond boy sat slouched in the kitchen chair, tears filling his deep blue eyes.  

“Baby,” she said softly, “you know Dr. Bates said you can’t be out for another week.  Your lungs need to heal up more.  The cold air could make you sick again.”  

Joe Hardy didn’t want to get sick again.  He’d had to spend three days in the hospital because a chest cold had turned into pneumonia.  While he was well enough to go home, he was confined to the house and lots of bed-rest for a while.  

“B-but it’s not f-fair!” Joe pouted.  

“I know,” Laura agreed, “but it wouldn’t be fair to Na Na or Frank or Aunt Ethel if we didn’t go, would it?”  

Joe knew his mother was right.  The annual Christmas shopping trip to New York City was something his mom, grandmother and Ethel Radley looked forward to very much.  Last year, the women had decided to take Frank and Joe.  The boys had been thrilled to see the city decked out in all of her Christmas splendor.  

He and Frank had been excited to go again this year, but then Joe got sick.  

Frank had sat silently eating his cereal while his brother ranted.  His emotions were torn.  He had so looked forward to seeing the city again and couldn’t wait for “shopping day” to come, but now he felt like it wouldn’t be fair to Joe.  

“Maybe I should stay here, too,” Frank half-heartedly offered.

“Frank,” Fenton Hardy intervened, “Joe will be fine here with me.  We’re going to help Mom out by baking some of the Christmas cookies.  

“You and Mom won’t be back until late tonight, and Joe needs to get his rest.  I think you should go.”  

Frank looked from his father to his brother.  Joe looked so sad, it almost made Frank want to cry, too.  

“Mommy and Daddy are right,” Joe finally said quietly.  “You should go, Frankie.  It wouldn’t be fair for you to have to stay ‘cause of me bein’ sick.”  

While Frank felt better about going with Joe’s blessing, when it was time to leave, he felt bad about leaving Joe behind.  Reluctantly, he left with his mother.  

* * *

“Joe,” Fenton called upstairs about an hour after Laura and Frank left for the city, “I could really use your help in the kitchen, buddy!”  

Fenton knew his younger son was feeling pretty bad about not getting to go to the city, and he knew that cookie baking with Dad wasn’t going to take the hurt away.  Still, it would be a distraction and it would get Joe’s mind off the missed trip.  

He set about preparing the ingredients and preheating the oven.  From the corner of his eye, he watched Joe slip silently into the kitchen.  

The child’s blond curls were tousled and his blue eyes were rimmed in redness from crying, but he was no longer pouting.  Instead, his little mouth was just slightly smiling.  

“You look silly in Mommy’s apron,” Joe announced a few minutes later.  

“What?” Fenton cried, sounding offended, “I think I look rather dashing in pink ruffles!” Joe giggled and it sounded like music to Fenton’s ears.  

“Can I help?” Joe asked, crawling up on a chair.  

“H-m-m,” Fenton looked at the child appraisingly.  “No, no.  This won’t do at all.”  

Joe bit his lip, wondering what was wrong.  Fenton went to the kitchen drawer beside the oven and pulled out another apron.  

“You can’t get flour all over your clothes, young man,” Fenton admonished.  “This will solve the problem.”  Joe burst into a fit of giggles and tried to squirm out of reach as his father attempted to tie the frilly apron on him.  

Fenton easily overpowered the boy and soon both of them were wearing the ruffled garments over their clothes.  

“Now,” Fenton smiled broadly, “we both look silly enough to do this baking.”  

For the next few hours, Joe delighted in helping Fenton mix and bake sugar cookies.  Fenton enjoyed watching his son, now covered in flour, press the cookie cutters into the soft dough.  

“Are we gonna decorate them, Daddy?”  

“Well, Joe,” Fenton replied, washing the last of the mixing bowls, “we’ll have to wait ‘til they’re all done cooling.  Then, we’ll decorate and maybe taste a few.”  Joe nodded enthusiastically.  

“But, until then,” Fenton continued, turning off the oven and removing the apron from his waist, “we can go watch your ‘Rudolph’ movie and I’ll make us popcorn to munch on.  How’s that sound?”  

“Yeah!” Joe grinned and hopped off the chair.  He waited for Fenton to wash his face and hands and remove the apron from his small body.  Joe ran to the family room.  

“I’ll find the movie,” he announced.  

Fenton laughed softly, “ Mission accomplished.”  He grabbed a bag of microwave popcorn from the pantry and put it in the appliance.  

“Movie’s ready Daddy!”  Joe’s voice carried into the kitchen.  

“I’ll be right there, buddy,” Fenton responded, pouring the hot popcorn into a large bowl.  He was about to get them both a glass of milk when the backdoor bell rang.  

“Sam, what are you…”  

Fenton’s partner and friend, Sam Radley, burst in the kitchen.  

“You and Joey need to get out of the house right now.”  

“Why? What’s going on?” Fenton asked, setting the popcorn bowl down.  

“I saw Lance Mansetti near the Bayport Mall,” Sam announced.  “I remembered his threat to kill you for sending his son to prison at his trial and I heard him asking a security guard about where you live.”  

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