The Happiest Season (8 page)

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.  But
just give the man a chance.  Who know?  Maybe he’s the first of many men you’ll
end up dating, but then, he could be the…”

“What?”

“The
one
,” she said simply.  “He could be the one.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied.  “I’ll probably never see him
again.”

Maggie glanced at a clock that hung on a far wall across
from her desk at her workplace.  It was a couple minutes before five.  She
spent the time tidying her desk, and then when the big hand touched the twelve,
she burst out of her seat, grabbed her coat and purse, and charged out of the
office.

She was eager to pick up Rickey, who was waiting for her at
his daycare facility.  Enrolling him in daycare had been difficult for her,
since she hadn’t had to rely on childcare when Shane was alive.  During the
year following his death, Maggie’s mother had watched Rickey for her, so she
could finish up a degree at school, but when that degree had enabled her to
secure a job with the state, it had also required that she make a move.  As
such, she needed childcare for her son.

He seemed to be doing well at the facility she’d chosen, but
she was still having a bit of trouble adjusting to the long hours away from
him.

When she arrived at the daycare and hurried in, she was
greeted by Rickey, who waited for her nearby the main entrance.  A few of his
little friends were waiting along with him for their own parents to arrive.

She smiled at the little ones, and then ooohed and aaahed
over a picture Rickey showed her that he had painted.  After signing him out
for the evening, they walked together to Maggie’s car.

“It’s Friday, right Mama?” Rickey said, as she strapped him
into his booster seat.

“Yes, and I’m very happy the weekend’s here,” she said
smiling.

“Me too!”  His features abruptly went from happy to troubled.

“What’s wrong, honey?”                                         

“I thought Officer John might stop by our house and see us
sometime, only, he didn’t.”

“Sweetie, he works too.  But while I work a day shift, he
works swing shift.”

“Does he get to swing on a swingset?” Rickey asked eagerly. 
“Cuz, if he does, I want to work swing shift.”

Maggie laughed.  “No, honey.  Swing shift means he works
different hours from mine.  For example, I work from eight in the morning until
five in the afternoon, but Officer John works from three in the afternoon until
three in the morning.”

“Wow,” Rickey said, puzzling over his work hours.  “So, he
works a long time, huh?”

“Yes, but then he does get more days off than I do.”

“Well, that’s good for him.” 

As Maggie backed out of the parking space and pulled into
street traffic, she happened a glance in the rearview mirror.  She saw that
Rickey’s mouth was downturned in a pronounced frown.  His eyes appeared
downcast and sad.

“Rickey, are you all right?”

He heaved a sigh.  “I want to see John.  But if he works so
much, how will we ever see him?”

She matched his sigh.  Rickey had gotten really attached to
John in a very short span of time.  Maybe it was better that they not see him
again.  If Rickey became too attached…

Maggie attempted to distract him.  “Hey, how would you like
to pick up burgers and fries from a drive-through?”

“Can I get a milkshake too?”

“May I get a milkshake?” she clarified.

“Sure, we can both get milkshakes!” he said eagerly, as his
melancholy vanished as quickly as it had arrived.

After making a run through the drive-through, they headed
home.  As Maggie carefully pulled into the garage, she spotted something on the
front porch.  Rickey saw it about the same time she did.

“Mama, there’s something on the porch,” he said, narrowing
his eyes in an attempt to see what it was.

Once parked, Maggie climbed out of the car.  Rickey was
unbuckled and out of his booster seat before she could register he was out of
the car.  “Rickey!” she called, but he had already charged out of the garage
and to the porch.

“Mama!” he yelled.  “Look!”

She hurried over to him, surprised to find him holding
tightly to a stuffed camel.  “Is it from Gloria?” she asked.  It wouldn’t
surprise her a bit that Gloria had left a stuffed camel as a reminder of their
unusual visitor a week before.  She chuckled and then noticed a card on the
ground, nearby Rickey’s feet.  She bent to pick it up.  She read it and
couldn’t help smiling.

The camel was from John.  He wrote that some friends had
given it to him as a joke, but that he figured Rickey would enjoy it more than
he would.

“Who’s it from, Mama?” Rickey asked eagerly.  “Is it from
Gloria?”

“No, sweetie.  It’s from John.”

“Officer John!  Really?”

She nodded. 

“He likes us,” he said smugly.  “I knew he liked us.  He’s
just busy, that’s all.  That’s why he hasn’t come over to see me.  So he
brought a camel instead.”

Maggie sighed.  She didn’t respond to her son’s comment. 
She had no idea how to respond.  Who knew if they would ever see John again?

***

Once again, Maggie was uncertain whom to call—the police or
fire department.  She ran a hand through her blonde hair, and spun around
uncertainly—just as she had the last time they had an uninvited, evening
visitor. 

Rickey was currently bouncing around, laughing delightedly,
and Pocomo was howling.  In apparent response, the donkey in her backyard was ‘hee-hawing’
and kicking up clumps of grass.

“Give him a cookie!” Rickey cried, and then clutched his
sides, fell on the couch, and rolled from side to side in glee.  “Yeah, he
probably wants a cookie!”

Maggie gave a rueful shake of her head and dialed the
police.  She should have asked John for the name and phone number of the man who
owned the animals in the live nativity, but really hadn’t thought she would
need his number again.  Hindsight was always twenty-twenty, however, and she
realized that like the Boy Scouts, she would be better prepared next time.

Next time?  Good heavens.

She dialed 911.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” a male voice asked
this time.

Maggie sighed, and sounded almost apologetic when she
answered.  “I’m afraid I have a donkey in my backyard.”

The declaration was met with stony silence.

“I need help,” Maggie prompted.

“Ma’am, this line is for emergency calls only.  We will not
tolerate abusing this line with crank calls.  Please know we have your name and
number on record.  Click.”

Maggie stared at the phone in her hand.  At least the woman
operator from before hadn’t hung up on her.  And hadn’t this guy heard about
the camel last week?  If so, surely he was open to the possibility of donkeys
showing up in local residential neighborhoods.  But then, maybe he had somehow
missed the camel fiasco.

She dialed again. 

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

Attempting to think on her feet, Maggie asked, “Would you
please send Officer John Dutch to 742 Sycamore Lane.  I have a donkey in my
backyard.”

She heard the agitated breathing of the operator, so she
knew he was still on the line.  Before he could hang up on her again, she said
in a rush, “Look, I don’t make crank calls.  Are you aware of the camel that
showed up in my backyard last weekend?  He was an escapee from the live
nativity on display at a church not too far from my house.  Anyway, it seems he
has a friend…”

Maggie heard a tussle of activity, followed by a muffled
sound as if someone had placed a hand over the receiver, and then finally, the
man said in a monotone voice, “I’ll dispatch Officer Dutch.”

“Thank you,” Maggie said crisply, and hung up the phone.

By now, Rickey was back by the sliding door, face to face
with the donkey.  The animal had thankfully stopped kicking at Maggie’s lawn,
and seemed oddly interested in Rickey.  They both stood with their noses
pressed to the slider.  Both were leaving tufts of breath on the formerly clean
glass.

To Maggie’s horror, the animal reared back and bashed its
head against the glass.  Fortunately, Rickey pulled back in the nick of time or
he might have been hurt.

“What does it want?” Maggie cried, alarmed.

“Cookies?” Rickey answered with a shrug.

“Uh, okay, yeah.  We’ll give it a try.”  She dashed over to
the window above the kitchen sink and slid it open.  She glanced back at
Rickey.  “Honey, grab me a few cookies from the cookie jar.”

“Okay, Mama,” he obliged.  He raced into the kitchen, yanked
the lid off the cookie jar, and scooped out a handful of Christmas cookies. 
“Here, Mama!”

She took them from him.  “Here, donkey, donkey, donkey,” she
called.

Rickey ran back to the slider.  “Mama, get ready.  It’s
coming toward you.”

Maggie braced, unsure what to expect.  Would the donkey jam
its upper body through the window, as the camel had done?  Was it tall enough
to reach the window?

Just as it arrived at the window, Maggie tossed the cookies
over its head and out into the yard.  The donkey spun around and charged after
the cookies, letting out an apparently delighted ‘hee-haw’. 

Unfortunately, it polished the cookies off faster than
Maggie had anticipated, and immediately returned for more.  “Oh, good grief,”
she murmured, as she pulled several more cookies out of the jar.  Once again,
she tossed them over the donkey’s head, and once again, it downed them in
record time and returned for more. 

When Maggie didn’t immediately comply with his donkey
demands, he struggled to lift his head high enough to see through the open
window.  He let out a loud, fierce sound.  He was clearly enraged that he
wasn’t receiving cookies fast enough and he began huffing and puffing through
his large nostrils, flinging out what Maggie could only believe to be … donkey
snot.

“Oh, gross!” Rickey bellowed.  “Mama, close the window!”

Thankfully, the doorbell rang.  Both Maggie and Rickey raced
to answer it.  This time, when they found John standing on the porch, he didn’t
waste a second.  After registering Maggie’s alarmed face, he ran past mother
and son and into the kitchen.

They were only a second or two behind him, but in that time,
the donkey had somehow managed to cover John with the remaining contents of its
nose.  They found him, frozen in place, his arms splayed out at his sides. 

He turned toward Maggie and snared her gaze.  “If I shoot
it, will you back me up that it was justifiable homicide?”

She didn’t hesitate to nod, but then burst out laughing when
Rickey rammed a large candy cane into its mouth.  The donkey held it between
its teeth, and like the camel, it seemed to love that candy cane.  It pulled
back from the window and began chomping on the treat. 

John, whose hand was poised above his revolver, seemed
torn.  Maggie laid a reassuring hand on his arm.  “You probably don’t have to
shoot it now.  It seems calmer.”

“It might be, but I’m not,” he groused, still staring down
at his soiled uniform. 

“You’ll need to get your uniform to a drycleaners ASAP,” she
said, stifling a laugh.

He still appeared frozen and didn’t unthaw until Maggie
said, “Do you happen to have the phone number of the guy who owns the…”

“Ass,” he interjected with a smirk.

“You said a bad word, John!” Rickey accused.  “Mama, get the
soap!”

John burst out laughing.  “I need soap all right, and not
just for my mouth.”  With a shoring breath, he pulled a notebook from his back
pocket.  He scanned it and found what he was looking for.  This time, when he
called the owner of the animal, he wasn’t nearly so understanding.

“Come get this a—er, donkey out of Miss Dulane’s yard, or
I’m calling Animal Control.”

He hung up and turned to Maggie
and said sweetly, “He shouldn’t be long.”

“Let’s hope not,” she said, biting back a smile.  “So… 
Would you like a cookie?”

***

“The donkey’s gone,” Rickey declared, as he watched the
beast being led out of the backyard.  “I’m going to miss him,” he said sadly.

“I’m not,” Maggie and John said in unison.  They turned
toward one another and smiled with chagrin.

“Would you like to clean up?” Maggie asked him then, noting
he looked horribly uncomfortable in the soiled uniform.

“I would,” he told her.  “In fact, I’m going to head home
and do just that.  Fortunately, I have another uniform cleaned and pressed.”

“Fortunately,” she agreed, her eyes doing a pass over his
uniform.  She couldn’t help it.  She began laughing.