As Kristen stood to leave Doctor Paul’s office, he gave her a big grin.
“What was her name?”
“Huh?”
“Your cousin… the one with the long black hair and glasses. Did you give her a name?”
“Brittany,” she replied in a small voice.
“Brittany,” he replied. “That’s a very pretty name, but I like Kristen better, and I think the other kids really like Kristen too. Why not give them a chance, okay?”
She nodded back at the man. It always made her feel good talking to Doctor Jansen.
“Maybe you should think about becoming an actress when you get older.”
“You think I could?”
“I think Kristen Marsh could become anything she wants to be, if she puts her mind to it.”
Kristen worked on taking the advice of Doctor Jansen and, before long, she did actually heal inside. Yes, she would still have the dreams sometimes, but they didn’t really bring harm to her, or to anyone else. And pretty soon she had friends again – especially Katie, and this made all the difference in the world… for both of them.
CHAPTER 3: OFF TO GRANDMA’S HOUSE
The late afternoon of Christmas Eve, Kristen and her parents packed up the SUV and left for her grandparent’s farm in the hills of central Pennsylvania. Traveling by way of the turnpike it took about two hours to get there. Her dad pulled the car into the long driveway at the old brick farmhouse and the three of them jumped out as Grandma and Grandpa came to greet them. They unloaded quickly and went straight to the living room. It was all decorated with holly, red ribbons, and gingerbread people – the kind you could really eat. Over in the corner stood a nine-foot-high Christmas tree; the odor of fresh pine filled the room.
“So Kristen, I understand you are staying with us a few days,” her grandfather Reeves began as he placed a few more logs on the fire in the huge living room fireplace made of red brick.
“Yes, Grandpa.”
The fire made her feel all warm and cozy as she snuggled in beside him.
“Good, because I set up the trains and the Christmas village on a platform in the other room. We’ll have a lot of fun with that.”
“Dad, I hear we’ll be getting some snow by tomorrow evening,” said Kristen’s mother.
“Yep – could be a big one, Andrea,” he replied. “We’d love to have you stay longer but you might want to get back home before it hits.”
“That’s what Kevin thought, too.”
“Well you know your mother and I will take good care of Kristen while you’re gone. So you just go when you need to and take care of that business at home.”
“Thanks, Dad…I know you will. And everything is going to be fine.” Andrea Marsh took hold of her father’s hand for a moment and they gave each other a knowing smile that somehow made even Kristen understand. It made her feel very good inside…so safe and so happy.
“C’mon, kids. Grandma has hot cider and fresh Christmas cookies for you weary travelers. Dig in.”
Pat Reeves put down the tray and the family did exactly as Grandma said. The living room now looked like something from an old Christmas card, with contented folks relaxing around the toasty fire, munching away on their snacks. They did some catching up on what was going on the last few months and then the family settled in for bed. After all, it was Christmas Eve and they needed to be bright-eyed for the festive day ahead.
The girls headed upstairs while the men stayed behind to watch TV. At the top of the stairs Kristen gazed down the long hall at the doors on each side. At the far end there was a white door, the only one closed. She felt a chill as she looked at that door.
“It used to scare me when I was little,” Kristen said, pointing to that single door at the hall’s end.
Her mother looked to Grandma.
“But it just leads to the attic stairway, Kristen. It’s where we store a lot of old stuff we don’t use much. Your mother spent many a day in the winter playing house up there. Right, Andrea?”
“Why yes, I remember pushing big boxes around to make pretend rooms for my house of make-believe friends. Even then I was getting ideas for the people in the stories I wrote later on.”
“Maybe I could go up there and play too. Is that okay, Grandma?”
Grandma looked to Kristen’s mother again before answering, “Certainly you can, my dear – nothing there in the attic to harm you.”
“Nothing to harm you at all,” Kristen’s mother repeated. “I’m sure you could make a playhouse just as you want it, too. Come on now. Let’s get you to bed so we’re rested for Christmas morning – and the presents.”
As Kristen crawled into her soft warm pajamas there in her own special bedroom, her mom and Grandma came around to tuck her in.
“Did you know this was my room when I grew up here, Kristen?”
“Really?”
“Yes, but it looks like Grandma moved out a lot of my big girl stuff to make it a little girl’s room again.”
“Oh, I’m not that little, Mom… but I like it, Grandma. The green-and-yellow stripes make me think of my own room back home, all bright and cheery to make me feel happy.”
“Good… we wanted it that way for you. Sort of a home away from home.”
Kristen’s mother moved around the room, running her hand over the old dresser and nightstand of dark walnut, all polished nice and shiny. “Yes, I think of wonderful times here when I look at this room. This is where I decided to write books, you know.”
“Books for me?” Kristen asked.
“Not back then. That was before I even knew you, silly.” Her mom came over and gave her a little poke in the ribs, making them both laugh. “But I did decide then that I wanted to write and take these ideas in my head about things I wanted to say on paper.”
“That’s all it took to make you a writer?”
“Well, I practiced a lot. And after that I needed to go to college so I could learn how to do it better. And that’s where I met your father - which was a very good thing - for now we have you in our lives.”
“Gee, maybe when I get older I’ll think of stories to write, too.”
“If that’s what you truly want to happen it will become real for you, darling. Until then… you just grow up and think about all the things you can be.”
“Well, you two writers and dreamers talk all you want. But this old granny needs to get her beauty rest. She’s got a big turkey dinner tomorrow. Sleep tight, girls.”
“Your grandmother’s right. Time to get to bed so we can open presents bright and early. See you Christmas morning, Kristen.”
“Goodnight, Mom.”
As her mother turned off the light and left, she rolled over to look out of the window, imagining her mom lying there years ago and thinking about what she will be when she got older. In the moonlight (a moon with a foggy ring around it, actually,) the vast meadow looked beautiful out behind the old farmhouse. Kristen could see the big red barn where Grandpa kept the tractor and that black Ford truck he loved so much. He also took great pride in the barn itself, to keep it so clean-looking