Stuck On You (A Christmas Novella) (6 page)

“My mama wants me to give my sisters my bows,”

Hannah answered, touching the blue Christmas bow on her front paw.

“Oh, how many sisters do you have?”

Hannah answered, “Two.”

“Let me see. You have one, two, three bows,” the ladybug counted. “And they are red, blue, and yellow.”

Hannah smiled. “That’s right.”

“If you hid two of the bows, you wouldn’t have to share them, would you?” the ladybug asked, and then she fluttered away before Hannah could answer.

Hannah picked the blade of grass the ladybug had been sitting on. She thought about hiding the bows. If she did that, which one of the bows would she keep? The red? The blue? Or the yellow? She walked to the water’s edge and looked at her reflection.

 A fish swam up. “I like your bows,” the fish offered sweetly.

“Thank you,” Hannah answered. She tried to see the bow on her head, but it was too far back for her to get a good look at it. So she wiggled around until she could see the one on her back. It was hard to see, too.

“What are you doing?” the fish asked.

“I’m trying to see the bows,” Hannah answered.

The fish twisted its head sideways. “Why?”

Hannah sighed. “Because my sisters want them, and the ladybug told me I should hide two of them and then I wouldn’t have to share them. I’m trying to see the red and the yellow ones because I want to wear the prettiest one home.” Even as she said the words, Hannah felt guilty.

“Oh, if you can’t see all three of them, why don’t you share them, and then you would be able to see all three?”

“I don’t want to share!” Hannah yelled at him.

The fish shook his head and swam away.

She could feel the fish’s disappointment in her, and she felt ashamed.

Sheila read over her words aloud and then muttered, “What should happen to make Hannah change her mind and share with her sisters?” She thumped the pencil gently against her chin. She tried to think of a time with her own sisters that something like this had happened. Growing up, there had been a number of times when she and Samantha had wanted something Sarah had. Why had Sarah given in and shared with them?

A glance at the clock reminded Sheila that Morgan was expecting her at Carly’s Cookie Jar at two o’clock. The face of the grandfather clock read eleven fifteen. She wondered if Sarah had eaten lunch yet. Picking up the phone, she dialed her sister’s number.

Sarah answered on the second ring.

“Have you had lunch yet?” Sheila asked immediately.

Sarah hesitated. “As a matter of fact, I haven’t. Why?”

“Care to have it with me?”

“I don’t know, Sheila. I’d love to, but the baby is fussy, and Little Ears will need a nap soon. It would just be easier for me to stay home and take care of these kiddos.” Her voice sounded tired.

Sheila felt sorry for her sister. “How about this? Have a pizza delivered, and I’ll come over. We’ll feed Little Ears, and I’ll put her down for a nap.”

Sarah laughed. “Only if you’ll bring me a large diet cherry soda.”

“Deal, and I’ll pay for the pizza when I get there.”

“Deal.”

The baby was asleep, and Sheila Lynn was tucked in for a nap. Sarah sipped on the diet cherry soda as if it were honey to a bear. Sheila admired her older sister. Her house was clean, the babies were happy, and Sarah still had her sense of humor.

“So tell me. What made you come running to me today?”

Sarah asked, sitting up in her chair.

Sheila took a deep breath. “I’m stuck in my story, and I’m supposed to meet Morgan in an hour and tell him about myprogress.”

“I’m not a writer, Sheila. I can’t imagine what I can do to help you.” She set her cup down with a sigh.

Sheila smiled at her older sister. “No, but you are an older sister, and I know that when we were growing up, there were a lot of times you had to share with Samantha and me whether you liked it or not.”

Sarah jerked her cup back up as if she thought Sheila was going to ask for some of it. “You got that right.”

“What made you do it?”

“Do what?” Sarah frowned over her straw, not sure what

Sheila was talking about.

“Share.”

“That’s easy.”

Sheila watched her sister’s eyes dance with glee as she sipped her drink. “Well, are you going to tell me?”

“Sure.”

“Today?”

“Mama made me.”

Chapter 8

Two days later, Sheila picked up her pencil and reread the last few paragraphs.

“Oh, if you can’t see all three of them, why don’t you share them, and then you would be able to see all three?”

“I don’t want to share!” Hannah yelled at him.

The fish shook his head and swam away.

She could feel the fish’s disappointment in her, and she felt ashamed.

Sheila tapped the pink eraser on the desk. Sarah had been no help at all. Her sister had simply teased with her about Mama making her always give up her favorite things. But the hug Sarah had given her as she’d left spoke louder than the teasing. The truth was, Sarah shared because she loved her little sisters.

Chrissy leaped from her lap when the phone rang. The sudden noise and movement caused Sheila to jump, too. She took a deep breath then answered the phone.

“May I speak with Sheila Fisher, please?”

Sheila recognized Morgan’s voice, and her pulse did a little flutter. “Speaking,” she answered.

“Sheila, would you mind meeting today instead of tomorrow?”

She wondered why he needed to change the date. Her gaze moved to the unfinished manuscript. “No. When and where do you want to meet?”

“In about a half hour. . .at Carly’s Cookie Jar?” His voice sounded strained.

Sheila laid the pencil down and picked up her purse. “I’ll see you there.”

“Thanks.” He hung up.

Her gaze moved to the irritated cat. “What do you think is wrong, Chrissy?”

As if she understood, Chrissy looked up and meowed.

“Yeah, I don’t know either, but I’m going to find out.” Sheila picked up the cat and carried her out of the office. She put the pet down in the hallway and shut the door.

Morgan set Sheila’s hot chocolate down in front of her. “So how’s the book coming?” He took the seat across from her.

“Pretty good. I’m about halfway through the first draft.”

He watched her take a cautious sip of her drink. “Do you mind telling me about it?”

“’Course not.” She laid the cup down. “I named the hedgehog Hannah. She has two sisters. Her sisters want her to share the pretty bows she’s tumbled upon.” Sheila’s words continued to tumble from her lips.

Morgan enjoyed the way her eyes lit up as she told him about the story.

“Hannah doesn’t want to share her pretty bows. She’s tired of giving her sisters everything. But I haven’t decided yet how I’m going to make her change her mind.” She picked up her cup and took another sip.

“You are what they call a seat-of-the-pants writer, aren’t you?” Morgan asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Sheila smiled. “As a matter of fact, I am.” She bent forward and met him in the middle of the table. “On small books like these, I write strictly seat-of-the-pants. Meaning I don’t bother plotting out the whole story. Now with my larger books, I do plot. I create a synopsis. Using that outline, I write the book.”

With their faces so close together, Morgan felt as if they were in their own cozy corner of the world, even though the rest of the shop was full of mall shoppers.

Two children stood at the table in the back corner, decorating cookies with their mother. “How are you going to make this book Christian?” Morgan asked. He inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume.

“I don’t make them Christian. If I try to put Christianity into the books, they come off sounding preachy. So I write them and pray my faith comes through.” She sat back.

The noise level in the store rose as a group of teenagers entered Carly’s Cookie Jar. “I need to make another trip to the Pet Connection. Would you like to go with me?”

Her gaze moved to the noisy teens, and she nodded.

Morgan took her hand as they walked past the teens. He felt her slim fingers intertwine with his. Walking toward the Pet Connection, he considered releasing her hand, but since she didn’t seem to be in a rush to free his, Morgan decided to enjoy the sensation of feeling like a couple.

They walked around the long line of children and parents waiting to see Santa. Morgan felt her tug on his hand and for a second thought she was trying to remove hers from his. He loosened his fingers from hers. She continued to hold his.

He stopped to find out if she wanted to see something.

“Aren’t they adorable?” Sheila asked, pointing to Santa, who held twin children in his lap.

He looked in the direction she pointed and observed Santa. They were close enough that he could see Santa’s deep, laughter-filled blue eyes surrounded by wire-rimmed glasses. His red outfit seemed quite luxurious and authentic-looking, with thick white fur around the collar, down the front of the coat, and at the cuffs. His pants were tucked into black boots, and he wore a red hat with white fur that was generous enough to hide his hair. His beard could have been real; Morgan wasn’t sure if it was or not. A big tummy and joyful laugh completed the illusion of old St. Nick. Morgan watched as the twins took turns whispering in Santa’s ears. They pointed back to their parents and then returned to whispering. “They are cute. But I’ll bet they’re full of mischief.”

“All children are at that age.” A light pink filled her cheeks. He wondered if she were remembering Sheila Lynn’s visit to Santa.

“True.” He lowered his voice and teased, “I do recall a certain young lady looking for a husband for her beautiful aunt.”

More color joined the pink. She looked up, and a grin touched her face as she added to his playful banter, “And I remember a silly elf who didn’t have nearly the class this one does. Remember him?” Morgan pulled a shocked, wounded face and looked to the other elf in question.

She wore a forest green tunic, tights with one green leg and one red leg, and red pointy-toed boots that had bells. Her hat was red and green striped with red fur. Still trying to look wounded over her comment he said. “Well, some elves wear their bells in all the wrong places.”

Her laughter brightened his day.

They watched the twins return to their parents, and then Sheila returned her attention to him. “What are you getting at the pet store?”

Still she didn’t release his hand. He smiled. “I was given a new puppy for Christmas.”

They continued walking.

“This Christmas?” She tossed her empty hot-chocolate cup into a trash can as they passed.

“There’s Santa!” the cry rang out as a family with several children hurried past them. One of the older children bumped

into Sheila while trying to grab the one running toward Santa and his elf.

Sheila stumbled into Morgan. He held her close and looked down into her upturned face. “Yes. This Christmas.”

“Oh.” The sound came out rushed from between her slightly parted lips.

He fought the urge to kiss her right there in the middle of the mall. Morgan knew he wanted their first kiss to be special. The more he was around Sheila Fisher, the more he knew God had handpicked her just for him. Still, one kiss wouldn’t hurt anything. He leaned forward.

A mother’s voice broke into his thoughts of kissing. “I’m terribly sorry. At this time of year, it is so hard to contain their excitement.”

Sheila stepped away from him and turned her attention to the woman. “No harm done,” she assured her.

The family continued on in their wild dash through the crowded mall.

Morgan continued to hold on to her hand and led her the last few steps to the pet store. Had she realized he was going to kiss her and pulled away? Or had she just been polite and answered the woman, unaware of his intentions?

Sheila followed him into the pet shop. He still grasped her hand tightly as if he were afraid he might lose her in the crowd. She liked the feeling of being a couple and for a moment thought he had been about to kiss her if the woman hadn’t interrupted and reminded her they were standing in the middle of the mall.

He pulled her past the display window filled with colorful birds. “You never did say why we’re here,” she reminded him.

“Noel needs obedience classes.” He answered, stopping by a glass wall that allowed customers to view the various puppies and kittens they had at the store without touching them.

She noted that his voice no longer held the teasing it had earlier. He seemed a little more standoffish, and she wondered if it had anything to do with their run-in with the family. “I’m assuming Noel is the puppy you got for Christmas?”

“Yes. She’s a Great Dane, and according to the book I bought last week, she needs to be trained. So here we are.” He indicated a sign-up sheet resting on a table beside the door that led into the glass room.