The shadow of Santa's sleigh passed over Lydia's family's home unnoticed that year. The Christmas tree stayed bare, and the whole family refrained from exchanging gifts despite having already bought them.

At around 6 p.m. on Christmas Day, Lydia dolled up, put on her best green velvet dress, and left for Robin's Christmas party with nothing but a clutch purse and an armful of wrapped presents. Her parents saw her leave but didn't say anything. Lydia didn't feel much like celebrating. But she did feel like getting out of the house and maintaining some sense of normalcy.

Lydia smiled through the greetings she received. Clusters of her peers swarmed about her like flies around a sugar hill, wondering why the popular girl had run away. Apparently rumors had circulated that her parents had kicked her out of the house because of the whole situation with Harvey and she'd been shipped off to go stay with relatives in the country. The second Lydia dispelled those rumors, people began asking her if she'd run away with a boy. They speculated that she'd run off with everyone from Harvey to the Star Trek obsessed sophomore boy who she'd kissed once on a dare.

It wasn't until Donna, Robin, and Janice got Lydia alone in the corner of the room with newly-unwrapped gifts in their laps, that Robin finally said.

"Honey, we need to talk."

Lydia looked around at the three concerned faces staring at her.

"And I know it's Christmas and all," said Donna. "But this doesn't feel like something that can wait."

"What is it?"

"Why did you run off with the cowboy from the country bar?" Robin finally asked.

"I wasn't…" Lydia began. "It's not what it looks like. I just needed a ride somewhere that he happened to be going."

"So, there's absolutely nothing going on between you and him?" asked Donna.

Lydia looked down at her lap, full of makeup and earrings.

"Nothing that means anything," she lied, and then instantly hated herself for it.

"I hope so," said Robin. "Because come on, Lydia. I know that Harvey broke your heart and ruined your Christmas break, but you of all people know that there's no excuse for falling for a dime store cowboy."

"Hey," said Lydia. "Jimmy may be a sarcastic jackass, but he's actually a good guy. And when he realized how badly I needed to find what I was looking for, he dropped everything to try to help me. That's more than we can say for most of the boys that we've dated in the past six months."

"But he's a cowboy, Lyd," said Donna, her face scrunching with concern. "We have standards. Your words, remember?"

It was true. Lydia had said that.

And she knew now that she couldn't have been more wrong.

"Excuse me," said Lydia. "I need to get some air."

She set all of her Christmas presents from her friends on the floor next to Donna's purse. Then she got up and walked away with just her clutch.

Out in the common room, Donna's older sister was singing a slow, gentle version of Winter Wonderland that all of the couples in the room were holding each other and swaying to. Lydia sighed and began navigating her way around the dance floor. When she rounded the corner at the edge, she came face to face with none other than the cowboy she'd said goodbye to so recently.

"Hey!" said Lydia. Without even thinking about it, she leaned over and hugged Jimmy, letting her face rest on his shoulder. He held her there for a minute. He smelled like aftershave and fabric softener and was wearing a white shirt and black pants. Once Lydia stopped hugging him, he took her hand and gently pulled her out on the dance floor. They began slow dancing and holding each other close, faces just inches apart.

"What are you doing here?" Lydia asked. "What about spending Christmas with your Mama?"

"I did spend some time with her this morning," said Jimmy. "We exchanged presents, and sang songs, and tortured Bob with some catnip for a little while before Mama told me that I needed to leave because it was time for her to take her afternoon nap and it was time for me to call the pretty girl from Nashville and tell her how I really felt about her. And when I told her that we never exchanged numbers, she told me that I had no choice but to come back here."

"You spent all day driving here from North Carolina just to talk to me?" said Lydia.

"I was also kind of hoping I could kiss you again. That is, if that's something you'd be okay with."

Lydia kissed Jimmy again as he spun her around in a long, slow, circle.

"I never got to know another boy as well as I got to know you these past few days," said Lydia.

Jimmy smiled. "I'm glad I got to know you too, Princess."

Lydia looked down and let Jimmy kiss her again.

"There's just one problem," said Jimmy. "I had to leave for here right from the hospital, you see, and it wasn't like I could just leave Bob for Mama and the nurses to deal with. So he's in the truck waiting for me."

"Oh, well," said Lydia. "I guess we'll just have to take this outside."

As Lydia took Jimmy's hand and walked around the corner to where Loretta was parked, she paid no mind to the stares of the few classmates who noticed them passing by. One girl even gasped and whispered. "Oh my God, Lydia's lost it."

They found Bob perched on the driver's seat of the truck, ready to greet them. Lydia scratched him for a moment while Jimmy cleared off the bench and closed the doors behind them. Then Jimmy turned on the heater and the radio while Lydia took off her high heels and shoved them under the seats. Then he kissed her again, this time holding on longer than they ever had before, but still not long enough.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

"I've been sure ever since you bought me that box of doughnuts at the gas station," said Lydia. "You?"

"I've been sure ever since the first time Bob jumped up on your lap."

Seeing that there was soon to be no room for him on the bench, Bob leapt down underneath the dashboard and curled up next to the nearest heating vent. He gave both Lydia and Jimmy a look of contempt.

So much for Bob outranking me, Lydia thought as a few plucks of a guitar string came through the radio followed by Bob Dylan's voice.

Well, it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
Even you don't know by now

Jimmy and Lydia's lips made contact again as he reached to undo the zipper of her dress.

And it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
It'll never do somehow

Lydia's dress came down, exposing her shoulders, then the upper half of her torso. One by one, assorted garments fell down on the floor of the truck. Green dress. Emerald earrings. Plaid shirt. Undershirt. Cowboy boots. Brassiere. Jeans and belt. Underpants. Boxer shorts.

I'm a-thinking and a-wonderin' walking down the road
I once loved a woman, a child I am told
I gave her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don't think twice, it's all right.

Country music was wonderful.

Jimmy held Lydia's hand all the way up to the door of her house this time.

"The light is still on in the living room," Lydia remarked. "That either means they're fighting or they're waiting for me."

"Hope I didn't get you into too much trouble." Jimmy nudged Lydia's shoulder.

"Don't even say that," said Lydia. "We were careful enough."

Lydia stopped on the welcome mat. She didn't want to go in. Not only because she wanted to avoid her family, but because she wasn't ready to say goodbye to Jimmy.

"I'll write to you," she finally said.

"I'll write back," Jimmy replied. "And I'll get a phone once I'm settled in an apartment in Charlotte."

"Good."

"I guess you'd better be the one to call me. It might be a little awkward if one of your parents answered."

"Of course," Lydia agreed.

They exchanged a kiss, then a hug, and then another kiss before they at last managed to tear themselves away from each other. When Lydia finally opened the door, her parents were standing right there.

"What's the matter?" asked Lydia. "Were you worried that I'd gone off to visit Frankie again? Or do I have any other missing siblings that I don't know about?"

Daddy sighed and stepped out of the way so that Lydia could come into the house. Mom shot a sideways glance at Jimmy's disappearing back and his truck before following suit.

"Am I grounded again?" asked Lydia.

"No," said Daddy. "We're just glad you're home safe."

"But we do need to have a talk with you," said Mom. "Why don't you go upstairs and get ready for bed and then join us in the living room?"

"Fine." Lydia went upstairs and disappeared. Mom took notice of the broken clasp that hung just above the zipper on her dress and Lydia's disheveled hair. She shot a glance at her husband.

"Who was that boy who just dropped her off?"

"I have no idea," said Daddy. "I've never seen him before."

Both of them heard when Lydia entered her bathroom and began whistling to the tune of I Can't Help Falling In Love With You to herself as she turned on the shower.

"I don't think I like this guy," said Daddy.

"Me, neither," said Mom.

It was the first thing that Marshall and Josephine Brigard had agreed upon in eighteen years.

When Lydia came back downstairs dressed in her pajamas, Mom and Daddy were both waiting for her in the living room as promised. They gestured for her to sit down on the couch opposite them. Lydia perched herself on the edge of her seat and waited for them to speak.

"Your mother has asked me to move out of the house," Daddy finally said.

"We're still going to be married," Mom added. "And we're still going to be a family. We just won't all be together most of the time."

"We weren't a family before," Lydia responded.

Neither one of her parents acknowledged the statement.

"Are you okay with staying here with me?" Mom asked. "At least until you graduate from high school."

"Whatever," said Lydia. "Guess I could do worse."

Daddy sighed. Mom, as usual, betrayed no emotion at all.

"When do you leave?" Lydia asked.

"Tomorrow morning," said Daddy.

Lydia nodded.

"It's late," Mom said. "Let's all get some sleep."

"All right."

Daddy went into his study, presumably both to pack and to sleep, and Mom and Lydia went upstairs.

"Can we go to North Carolina to visit Frankie next weekend?" Mom suddenly asked.

Lydia glanced behind her in surprise. Why was Mom asking her?

"You know where he is," Mom explained.

"Sure," said Lydia. In fact, nothing would make her happier. Right now Jimmy and Frankie were the only people who she felt like she wanted to see ever again.

"Is he well?"

Lydia shrugged. "He was safe and all. The nurses seem to care about him and look after him, but it's not the same thing as having a family."

"Did he seem happy?"

"Why wouldn't he be happy? He doesn't realize that he could be living any other way."

"With all of his brain cells intact?"

Lydia shook her head. "Outside of the institution."

Lydia turned to depart for her own bedroom, but Mom stopped her.

"Lydia, wait."

Lydia sighed and turned around. Her mother was unable to hide the tears that had formed in her eyes.

"You were right," Mom began. "I am a hypocrite. But you have to understand, all the charity work I do is because of what I've been through. All these years, I've been powerless to do anything for my own child. So I thought maybe I might at least be able to help someone else instead."

"That's just it," said Lydia. Her tone was somber. She was tired of arguing. "You say you had no way to help Frankie, but you've never even tried."

"Lydia, I've thought about going down to North Carolina to visit Frankie more times than you could imagine. I even thought about telling you everything and taking you with me, once you were older. But then I realized that in the end, I'd just be hurting my son even more than I already have. Right now, I'm just a wisp of a memory and a voice behind a few letters to him, if that. If he'd physically seen me and been around me, I would have become someone who loved him and kept walking away. He wouldn't have been able to understand that, Lydia. He either would have hated me or wondered what he did wrong, both of which would have hurt him more than my simply staying away. As for your father institutionalizing him after Auntie passed away, that is something that I will never forgive him for. But there's nothing that either of us would have been able to do about it. He's the father. The law recognizes that as his decision."

"That's not fair."

"I know it's not," Mom agreed. "None of it was fair." She hesitated. "And I am so sorry that I've put such a distance between you and me. When you were three years old, I learned just how terrible love can feel. And it destroyed me for ever being close to anyone again. But none of that was your fault. I'm sorry."

In spite of the mixed feelings that were swirling around in her brain that moment, Lydia stepped over to her Mom and gave her a hug. Just for a few seconds.

"And by the way," said Mom. "If you ever run away again, you're grounded until the end of the century."

Lydia smiled. "Okay."

That night, Lydia fell asleep with the thought that perhaps, in a very different way than how she'd hoped, she'd found a way to bring her family back together after all.