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Authors: Rosemarie Naramore

The Happiest Season (9 page)

BOOK: The Happiest Season
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“You think this is funny?” he asked in a mock-stern voice.

She shook her head, but the action morphed into an up and
down motion.  “I can’t lie,” she said, still laughing.  “It’s kind of funny.”

“You think?”

She nodded.

“You really think?”

She nodded again.  And as had happened in her kitchen
before, their eyes locked.  A silent communication passed between them.  When
he reached toward her and took a lock of her hair, she wasn’t certain what his
intent was.  Was he going to fondle her hair?  Was this an unexpected romantic
gesture?  Because, if so, it needed to stop and it needed to stop now. 

She attempted to take a step back, but he held onto her
hair.  It wasn’t until he tugged at the strand, studied it and made a face, and
then wiped his hand on his already soiled uniform that she realized what he was
showing her.  She had donkey snot on her head!

He registered the look of disgust, and then anger, on her
face.  “Not so funny now,” he whispered into her ear, and then reached for
another clump of her gooey hair.  He shook his head and moved to the sink and
washed his hands.  When he turned back, he smiled.  “You really need to wash
your hair.”

Now she stood frozen, contemplating the goo on her head.  “I
don’t like donkeys,” she muttered forlornly.

“Me neither,” he agreed.

“We’ll get a camel instead,” Rickey said reasonably.

 

***

 

“Wasn’t it great that Officer John could come see us again,”
Rickey said cheerfully, as he climbed into bed.  He’d already said his prayers
and was relatively agreeable about bedtime.  Maggie realized he must really be
tired to be so accommodating.

“Honey, Officer John’s visit wasn’t a social call.”

“Social call?  What is that?”

“Never mind,” she said, smiling.  “You’re right.  It was
nice of him to come by.  It was especially nice of him to remove that awful
donkey from our backyard.”  She gave a shudder at the memory.  She’d already
taken a long shower, had washed her hair four times, but she still felt filthy.

“The donkey wasn’t so bad.  I think he just had a cold.”

Maggie chuckled.  “Could be.”

“And at least he didn’t kick the back of our house.”

“You make a good point.”

“And he didn’t
spit
at you.”

Maggie conceded the point with a nod.  “That’s true.”

“I wonder how he got in our yard,” he said.  “Officer John
made sure to latch the gate after the camel left.  I saw him do it.”

Maggie sighed.  “I don’t know.  But I do hope we don’t have
any other unwanted visitors.”

“I like visitors,” Rickey said.  “I hope John comes over
tomorrow.”

Maggie gave him a speculative glance.  “Do you have a reason
for thinking John might come over tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he said smartly.  “I asked him to.”

“Oh, son,” she sighed.  “You didn’t, did you?”

“Yep.”

“And what did he say?”

He cocked his head in thought.  “He said…”  He appeared to
be searching his brain.  “Oh, I remember!  Wait, no, no, I don’t.  I’m sorry, Mama.”

“That’s okay, sweetie.”  She tucked him in tight and then
sat down on the edge of his bed.  “You know how much I love you, right?”

He nodded.  “I love you too.”

She kissed the top of his head and padded from the room,
certain he would be asleep in no time. 

 

***

 

Rickey climbed out of bed, careful not to make any noise. 
He tiptoed to his door and peered out.  His mother was nowhere to be seen, but
he heard her downstairs, tinkering around in the kitchen.  He was relieved.

He tiptoed to the window of his room and looked out across
the park and to the field, where he imagined the animals were hunkering down
for the night.  He had to imagine, because he hadn’t seen them.  Well, not all
of them, and not together anyway.

He’d seen the camel and the donkey, but he knew there had to
be others.  If he remembered correctly, he’d heard Gloria tell his mom that
there were sheep too—and even a baby lamb.

Boy, that donkey stopping by tonight had been a surprise. 
He wished it could have stayed longer, but then, it wasn’t a very polite
guest.  It shouldn’t have blown its nose on John or his mother.  They would
have probably liked it a lot better if it hadn’t done that.  But then, maybe
its mama hadn’t taught it good manners.

He sighed, wishing he could see the live nativity scene from
his window.  He felt a certain kinship with those animals.  He wondered what
was bringing them to his house.  But then he figured he might have a pretty good
idea why they were coming.

He gave a sheepish laugh, but promptly covered his mouth.  Yeah,
he just might have some idea why they were coming.  He figured it had something
to do with a miscommunication between him and God.

God.

It was time for another private prayer.  He padded to his
bed and knelt down beside it.  He brought his hands together and glanced
heavenward, before dropping his eyes in reverence.  He began praying.  “Dear
God, I just wanted to talk to you again.  I hope that’s all right with you.  I
know how busy you are.  Well, um, you know, God, like I said before, I would
never
tell you how to do your job or nothin’, but…” 

He glanced heavenward, but then dropped his head again,
resting his chin on his hands.  “Um, well, God, it’s just…”  He gave a sigh. 
“Okay, well, I’ll just come out and say it again.  God, I asked you for a daddy
and…”  He shook his head.  “And you sent me a
donkey
!”

Chapter
Seven

 

Maggie rose early the next morning, intending to do a
thorough cleaning of her kitchen.   She’d wiped it down the evening before, but
just knew she’d missed something.  She realized that at this point, she
probably wouldn’t rest easy about the cleanliness of her kitchen if a hazmat
team donned suits, came in, disinfected the entire space, and hosed it down.

As she glanced around the small, and usually tidy space, she
suddenly felt overwhelmed.  She felt compelled to scrub every inch of every
surface.  It would probably take her all morning to regard her kitchen as
relatively germ-free again. 

With a sigh, she grabbed a sponge, dipped it in a bleach
solution, and started on the cabinet doors.  She began wiping with a vengeance,
determined to rid them of donkey residue.  Finally, she wiped them down a
second time and then stood back to assess her work.  She followed by stripping
the kitchen of knick-knacks and wiping them down, before scrubbing all the
counters and tabletops.  She ended with a thorough mopping of the floor.

Finally, she stood back to assess her work.  When her eyes
lit on the wall opposite the kitchen window, she decided not to take any
chances.  She began wiping down the entire wall.  She was nearly done when the
doorbell rang.

She hurried to answer it.  Rickey was blessedly sleeping in
late, and she was grateful for the quiet time to complete her tasks.  She hoped
the doorbell hadn’t awakened him.

She tossed open the door.  John stood on the stoop, his
mouth curved into a smile.  “Hi,” he said.  “How are you?”

“Oh, uh, fine,” she told him, swiping an arm across her
brow.  “I’ve been cleaning up after the camel, er ... I mean, donkey.”

He gave her a commiserating smile.  “Yeah, I don’t blame
you.”  He shuffled awkwardly.  “Do you … need any help?”

“Oh, I’m almost done,” she told him, forcing a smile.  She
too felt awkward, certain she looked unkempt from doing housework.  “Was there
something…?”  She raised her shoulders in question.

“Uh, yeah.  Have you…?”  He blew out a breath.  “Have you
had a chance to take a look at your … backyard?”

“No…  I’ve been cleaning.”  She narrowed her eyes.  “What’d
the donkey do to my yard?  I mean, I know it was kicking a bit but…”

He winced and to her surprise, strode past her and into the
house.  She closed the door behind him and followed.  She found him in the
backyard, assessing the damage left by the donkey.

She gasped at the sight of the torn-up sod.  There was so
much of it.

“I had no idea!” she cried.  “How could one donkey do so
much damage?”  She shook her head and smoothed a hand through her hair.  The
entire lawn, formerly manicured, was a muddy patch.  A narrow pathway across
the lawn, which had been lined with decorative pavers, was now indiscernible
from the rest of the lawn, and the pavers were strewn about. 

Maggie shook her head, unable to look at it any longer.  She
turned and walked into the house.

John followed soon after, and found her on her hands and
knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor with a vengeance.  She’d already mopped, but
needed to exert some energy, to tamp down her anger. 

“It looks pretty good,” he said softly.  “The floor, I
mean.  The lawn…”  He gave a sigh.  “Not so much.”

Maggie glanced up and met his gaze.  He didn’t miss the single
tear that ran down her right cheek. 

“Oh, Maggie, I’m sorry,” he groaned, as he crossed the
distance between them and gently took her arm.  He helped her to stand, and
then, to her surprise, pulled her into a hug.  “It’s going to be all right,” he
soothed.  “I’ll call the animals’ owner, and then the pastor at the church, if
need be.  We’ll get this settled.  It’s going to be all right.”

Her first impulse was to pull away from him.  She hadn’t
been this physically close to a man since Shane.  She told herself she didn’t
want another man’s arms around her, but…  It felt so … good.  That simply
didn’t compute.  Only Shane’s arms around her felt right.  She felt traitorous,
as if she were betraying her beloved husband.  A sob escaped her lips.

John had no way of knowing she was grappling with her
conscience, and pulled her closer.  She felt his warmth, the beating of his
heart against her ear, the strength of his arms around her… 

With a sigh, she surrendered to him, letting him hold her
and likewise, hold her up.  If only for a few brief moments, she was going to
relinquish the stalwart control that had enabled her to cope during the months
and now years, since Shane’s passing.

Finally, finally, she pulled away from John and forced a
tremulous smile.  “I’m sorry, but…  Thank you for…  Well, you know.”

She turned away from him then, to regain her composure.  He
seemed to understand she needed a moment, since he didn’t make a move, or
speak. 

When she turned toward him again, he sensed that she had
regained control.  “I’ll call the owner of the donkey,” she said.  “You’ve
already done enough.”

He shook his head.  “I’ll take care of it,” he said firmly. 
“It’s one thing for a single animal to escape from the field, but a second… 
No.  This needs to stop.  I’ll call him now, but I also intend to stop by and
speak with him Tuesday, when I get back to work.”

Maggie nodded.  She understood what he was saying.  If those
animals ended up in the wrong yard, there was no telling what might happen.  If
a person happened to be out and one of the animals startled, either the person
or animal could end up badly hurt. 

  John pulled his cell phone from his pocket and with a nod,
stepped out back.  Maggie discreetly watched him as he dialed a number, spoke
briefly, hung up, and then dialed again.  She watched as he paced the lawn,
kicking at a clod of dirt or two, his expression hard and unyielding.  She
could see he was speaking harshly, but eventually, his expression changed.  Was
she wrong, or did she see resignation on his face?  He walked back into the
house.

Maggie gave him a questioning look.  “Okay, here’s what’s
going to happen,” he said.  “I’m going to go over to the nursery on fifth,
purchase the sod and lay it, and the animals’ owner is going to reimburse me. 
We’ll just have to be sure to keep all our receipts.”

Maggie’s jaw dropped.  How did her problem and the animals’
owner’s problem become John’s problem?  She shook her head, her expression now
unyielding.  “Uh uh.  No.  None of this is your responsibility.  You’ve already
re-sided my house.  I’m not going to let you replant my lawn.”  She shook her
head again.  “No way.  You have a life of your own, for Pete’s sake.  You have
a job.  This is your day off!  You are
not
going to spend your day off
worrying about my backyard.”

She took a breath, but barely skipped a beat when she began
speaking again.  “You’re going to rue the day you met me, that’s for sure,” she
said, nodding her head up and down in measured intervals.  “You’re going to
wish you’d never laid eyes on Maggie Dulane.  This is too much, John!  Run
away!  I would if I could!”  She abruptly threw her hands in the air and let
out a frustrated cry.  When she dropped her arms to her side, John saw her
shoulders droop again.

It broke his heart to see her looking so defeated.  He
didn’t know her well, but he knew she’d been through a lot.  He wanted to ease
her burdens—for reasons he could not yet fathom.

BOOK: The Happiest Season
11.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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