Chapter 1 -December 23rd

Mark McCormick sat at the dining table in the Gatehouse staring at the 18 inch high tree in front of him. He had just finished draping a popcorn chain and a string of lights around it. It was all he could afford, and he had been staring at it and thinking for several minutes.

"Hey, McCormick," the gruff voice of Milton C. Hardcastle reached McCormick's ears before the door was thrust open and the man entered. It was enough of a warning for Mark to push his thoughts aside and arrange his face in a neutral gaze before he turned his head.

"I'm right here judge, you don't have to shout."

Hardcastle paused and glanced at the tree on the table as he watched his newest rehab project hastily rise.

"A pretty pathetic tree," he commented with a hard edge to his voice.

The ex-con looked away briefly, then turned back with a smile.

"I know you must've come in here for something judge, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"I've got a new job for ya, come on out and I'll explain it to you."

Mark sighed and followed him outside and across the lawn toward the sea wall.

H&M

It looked to Mark as if the debris that had littered the outside of the sea wall had been collecting for many years. Why the judge needed him to start cleaning it up today was a mystery. In fact, he admitted, quite a few things about the judge were a mystery to him. As he worked, and thought about things, he began muttering to himself, secretly glad that Hardcastle wasn't there to hear.

H&M

Supper had been quiet and uncomfortable. There was no invitation to watch a movie, and McCormick thought that was just as well. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and he just couldn't keep acting like this was just like every other day. The way the judge was acting seemed like Christmas was something to be suffered through, not something to enjoy. In fact, as the big day approached, he realized that Hardcastle seemed to be totally ignoring it.

H&M

Milton C. Hardcastle trudged up the stairs later that evening, after watching the only non holiday movie he could find. He'd sent McCormick packing after supper, half afraid that he'd want to watch one of the classic Christmas movies that were showing this evening. There was something about having the ex-con around during the holiday that scared him. He couldn't quite put his finger on why he felt so uncomfortable. Since McCormick had come to live here, he'd slid into Hardcastle's life like no other person had ever done, except Nancy, his beloved wife. McCormick had become someone the judge could count on. Someone he trusted and wanted to spend time with. Almost like a… friend.

McCormick was someone he could think about spending a real Christmas with, but his thoughts could get no further than that. He couldn't even entertain the idea of sharing his Christmas traditions with anyone but Nancy and Tommy.

And there was no reason the kid should think otherwise. After all, he was McCormick's parole officer, and you just didn't celebrate Christmas with your parole officer. Let Mark have his Christmas traditions with his own family… wherever they were, and he'd have his… in his heart… and alone.

He thought back over the events of the day and reflected that he really hadn't intended to give McCormick a hard time. The truth was, he'd spent most of the day either complaining about the work he'd done or the food he'd made for supper. Between the complaints, even in normal conversation, he knew his tone had been harsh and nasty.

It had really begun at Thanksgiving though. That was when he'd realized that McCormick was very different from all the other ex-cons he'd shared the past 10 holidays with. He'd let him make a turkey and had enjoyed the meal, and the leftovers, but afterward, he'd been angry.

Up until now, Hardcastle hadn't understood the anger, but it had been building up as Christmas approached. Now, with the big holiday just 2 days away, things had come to a head. Now he knew what the problem was. McCormick had slowly been displacing his family. He'd been making the holidays mean something again, and Milt had decided he needed to put a stop to it.

He had told the kid in no uncertain terms, more than 2 weeks ago, that there would be no Christmas tree and no decorations. He would not be celebrating Christmas. This year would be like every other since he'd lost his family.

His heart ached as he thought back to that last Christmas. First, the day after Thanksgiving, the news had come. His only child, his beloved son, had been killed in Vietnam. Then, Nancy's turn for the worse the week after Tommy's burial. By Christmas, she was gone. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas that year, he'd lost his whole world, and nothing would ever be the same.

He sat down heavily on the bed and sighed, his heart aching. He tried to shut out the feelings, but it seemed to hurt more this year, and it was somehow connected with McCormick. The pain hadn't been this acute for a long time.

He'd been surprised to see the small tree on the table when he'd gone to the gatehouse. More surprised that the only decorations were a string of popcorn and some lights. He shouldn't have made fun of it, and he might not have, except that when he saw the tiny manger scene beside it, something seemed to snap.

With a long sigh that seemed to come from deep inside him, he lay down, determined not to think about McCormick or the Christmas holiday. He would think about fishing, and maybe, he would be able to get some sleep.