The two girls arrived in the family room. It seemed the same as it had an hour ago when Katie sat drinking her diet soda. Yet, it was different somehow.

Glancing around the room, Katie noticed that the CD player was gone. In its place was the old Sears record player her father had thrown out two years before when he bought the new sound system. Also, the drapes were different. Then it came back to her: her mother changed them when Katie was twelve.

“Look,” whispered Moira in Katie’s ear, her arm extended and pointing to someone on the other side of the Christmas tree. Katie hadn’t noticed the four bracelets dangling on Moira’s wrists before now. They were plastic, gaudy, and like the rest of her outfit, matched nothing.

Her eyes following Moira’s delicate finger, Katie spied her father bent over on his knees. In front of him were a half-dozen pieces of a bicycle. Spread out on an empty carton was a page of assembly instructions the size of a full sheet of newsprint. She heard her father mumbling.

“Wing nut A. Where in the hell is wing nut A? Damn!” He dug through a pile of hardware spilled haphazardly on the floor.

“Now, John,” a voice behind Katie said, “watch your language, son. It’s Christmas after all.”

Katie knew that voice. She turned quickly and there, coming through the door was Grandma O’Houllihan. She was carrying a cup of coffee on a saucer. Katie let out a small cry, bringing her hand to her mouth at the sight of the elderly woman. “I’ve brought a little something to relax you.”

“Thanks, mom. A break is just what I need. I swear, a Ph.D. in engineering couldn’t put this damn thing together.” The older woman chuckled as she sat in a chair next to the Christmas tree.

“You just keep at it, son. You’ll get it. Think how excited Katie will be when she comes down in the morning. She wants that bike more than anything.”

Tears welled in Katie’s eyes. She turned to Moira. “This can’t be, Moira. Grandma O’Houllihan died right after the Christmas I got that bike. She died on New Year’s Day the very next week. Her heart.”

“I know,” said Moira. “I’ve met her – a lovely lady. She loved you very much.”

“She did,” agreed Katie. And then under her breath she mumbled, “And I loved her so much, too.”

“What?” asked Moira. “I didn’t get that. What’d you say?”

“Nothing. I want to go talk to her. I want her to hold me like she used to.”

“Sorry, Kate, but you can’t. These are just shadows of things from your past. You can’t talk to a shadow.”

“No!” shouted Katie taking a step forward. “She’s there. She’s right there!” Katie broke away from Moira and dashed over to her grandmother. “Grandma!” she said, dropping to one knee in front of the old woman’s chair. “It’s me. Katie. Oh, grandma, I’m so glad to see you!” Suddenly, a smile spread across her grandmother’s lips as she stared down at Katie. Katie’s face lit up in a grin from ear to ear.

“Oh, grandma,” she started to say when the old woman spoke.

“John, I think that part you’re looking for is behind you. It must have rolled on the floor.”

“What?” said her father. He turned around and, sure enough, by the edge of the carpet in front of the fireplace lay wing nut A.

Katie glanced back at Moira. The little spirit had a sad smile on her face. Katie looked back into the old blue eyes of her beloved grandmother. “Grandma? Please. It’s me. Katie.” But Grandma O’Houllihan said nothing. She continued to gaze through Katie watching her son work on the bike. Katie stood up and walked sadly back to Moira.

“She really can’t see me, can she?” Moira shook her head. “I really loved that bike, you know.”

“Yes, I know. And you thought Father Christm—excuse me, Santa carried it down th’ chimney in his sack and put it under th’ tree, neat and simple as that. You didn’t know that your father spent almost three hours and every last rag of profanity he owned puttin’ it together for you, did you?”

Katie shook her head.

“Well, Kate, I could show you at least a dozen Christmases when your father stayed up all night assemblin’ things for you and your sister. I could show you half a dozen Christmases when he and your mother did without so you could have what you wanted. This here Christmas, for example, your parents were wantin’ a new microwave oven, but couldn’t get it – something about their credit cards being ‘maxed out,’ whatever that is.”

“I never knew.”

“Of course you didn’t. You weren’t supposed to. Parents never discuss such things with their young’uns.” Moira turned and faced Katie squarely. “Now do you believe that I am who I say I am?”

Katie looked at her for a long, hard moment. Then her faced softened. Slowly, she nodded her head.

“Sorry about me costume, though. I sort of hoped you’d like it”

“It’s okay,” said Katie.

“Well, never mind that now. Come on. I want to show you something else. Touch me arm again.”

Katie did so and almost immediately the two of them were flying. The dark, snow-draped countryside was passing below them at a dizzying speed.