When Tomorrow Comes by Janette Oke

Laray talked easily about Henry and his work at the RCMP office. Christine found herself listening carefully to all the compliments paid to her older brother.
    “He’s always been like that,” she found herself saying.
    “Conscientious and caring.”
    Laray hung up the dish towel. “I’d add another ‘c’ word.
    Confident. Not . . . not arrogant. But confident. It makes a big difference when your boss is sure of himself. I’ve never seen him in a flap yet. Delaney—Henry just calmly goes about doing whatever it is that needs to be done.”
    Christine wrung out the dishcloth, thinking about what Laray had said. She knew that traditionally the Mounties called each other by their last names. She briefly wondered if “Laray” was his first or last name. Then she said, “I’ve never really thought about Henry that way—but you’re right. Maybe he learned that from Dad. That’s the way Dad has always been.”
    “You have great folks.”
    Christine nodded. “They are.”
    “I lost my dad when I was six.” It was said without emotion, yet the statement tore at Christine’s heart. An image of little Danny flashed through her mind. What he had lost—and now had found.
    “What happened?”
    “He was a logger. Got caught in a jam.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “Mom married again—when I was seven.”
    Christine waited. Was the new father good—or bad— news?
    “He was a good guy. Even saw that we got to church.”
    Relieved, she moved to place the dried dishes back in the cupboard.
    “We got along okay—but it wasn’t the same as having my dad. He fed us and clothed us and never mistreated us—but he didn’t give us much attention. Guess that would have been too much to expect. Eventually there were five more kids added to the family. That’s about as thin as love can spread.”
    Christine wished to argue, but she didn’t know what to say or how to say it.
    “Anyway, we made out okay. I’ve got two older sisters and an older brother and another two sisters younger than me. That was in the first family. We all turned out all right.”
    “That’s a big family,” commented Christine, mentally doing the arithmetic. “Eleven children. Wow!”
    “It was a houseful.”
    Danny returned with a picture book. “Did you see this big truck? It hauls logs and stuff.” He thrust the book toward Laray.
    “Let’s take a look.”
    They left the kitchen together, and Christine finished putting away the dishes and slowly removed her apron. She wondered what they were going to do with the rest of the evening. Surely Laray was not expecting to be entertained. She could hear him now adding another log to the fire. With a deep breath she steeled herself and walked in to join them.
    She was surprised when he asked, “Anything you want to do? I’d be glad to look after Danny if you want to step out for some fresh air—or anything.”
    Christine thought quickly. She would welcome this unexpected “time off ”—but she had no idea how she might use the opportunity. The stores were by now all closed for the day. There was really no one she knew here whom she wished to visit. It seemed foolish to just go for a walk in the dark. She finally shook her head.
    “Then maybe we should all go for a ride. The roads are good. We could drive to the outlook point and show Danny the stars. I used to be a real nut about the night sky when I was growing up. I spent hours looking for the different constellations. No northern lights here, but we can see some stars—like you could reach up and touch them.”
    Christine started to decline, but Danny was already cheering. What good excuse did she have for disappointing him?
    She nodded, and Danny ran for his coat and boots.
    It turned out to be a pleasant enough evening. Once they left the lights of the town, the stars seemed to pop out of the blackness. The farther they traveled, the brighter the stars became.
    “Wow,” said Danny, leaning back to gaze upward out his window.