The Happiest Season

The
characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, is purely coincidental.

THE
HAPPIEST SEASON

©
Copyright 2012 by Rosemarie Naramore

All
rights reserved.

For
Gloria Lusk.

You
were truly an angel on earth,

and are
now testing your new wings with our Father in heaven.

I miss
you.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

“
M
ama!” Rickey
shouted.  “Come quick!”

“Honey,” Maggie Dulane said, struggling to keep her voice
even, “I’m really busy.  I have two dozen cookies to bake for the party tonight.”

“Really, Mama, you have to see this!”

Maggie glanced up from her place at the kitchen island.  Her
eyes lit on her five-year-old son’s dark head.  She smiled.  He had such a
vivid imagination, forever calling her away from her chores to see something
interesting or exciting, like a particularly large bug, or a cloud in the shape
of a train.  While she typically indulged his inquisitiveness, she just didn’t
have the time right now.

“Mama, look at this!”

The little boy was standing at the back slider door, staring
into the yard.  It was dusk, freezing cold outside, and almost time to leave
for a holiday party at her coworker’s home.

“Give me a minute, hon.”

Maggie dreaded the upcoming holiday party, but couldn’t bow
out—as much as she wanted to.  This party marked the first she would attend
without her husband at her side.  Shane had passed away two years before and socializing
had been the last thing on Maggie’s mind since his untimely death.  Unfortunately,
she had to attend this party, since her coworker, Gloria, had refused to take
‘no’ for an answer.  She just didn’t have the heart to disappoint her either.

Twenty years her senior, Gloria had quickly taken Maggie
under her wing at work.  After starting her job at the Employment Security
Office, Maggie had soon learned that Gloria purchased holiday gifts for many of
her coworkers’ children, organized birthday, anniversary, and holiday parties
with the finesse of a longtime party planner, and donated her time and energy
to a half-dozen charities.  She was truly the kindest person Maggie had ever
met—the personification of an office angel.

“Mama…” Rickey groaned, turning to catch her gaze.

“What is it, honey?”

“There’s a camel in our backyard.”

She chuckled.  Her son was such a little jokester.   

“No, really.  Come look.  For real,” he insisted.

“Honey, I really need to get these cookies done.  I have to
leave soon, and I haven’t had time to get myself ready—let alone finish baking
these cookies.”

“You
really
need to see this camel,” he said drolly.

She laughed.  “Just tell it ‘hello’ for me, but explain to it
that we can’t let it stay back there.  The yard is small and Pocomo really
won’t appreciate having to share.” 

As if on cue, the tiny
Chihuahua
came
charging off the couch, where he’d been sleeping.  He began howling at the top
of his lungs. 

“Pocomo, stop!” Rickey commanded.  “You’ll scare the camel.”

“We definitely don’t want to scare the camel,” Maggie said
with an indulgent smile.  “I understand they can be testy if they’re frightened.” 
She cocked her head to the side, as if deep in thought.  “Maybe you’d better
not go outside after all.  I don’t want you hanging around angry camels.”

Rickey gave a sigh.  “You’re probably right.  They’re really
big close-up, aren’t they?”

“They’re pretty big,” she acknowledged, without looking up.

“Pocomo!” Rickey cried.  “Mama!  Pocomo ran outside!”

Maggie heard the tiny
Chihuahua
barking,
the high-pitched sound piercing her ears.  The little dog was definitely upset
about something.  And then she heard a sound unlike anything she had ever heard
before—a low groan that morphed into a threatening, rumbling growl.  The sound
was deep, guttural, and unfamiliar—and loud.  She glanced up, her brows
furrowed in a frown.

“Rickey, what was that?” she asked with cautious alarm, as
she reached for a dish towel and wiped her hands.  She began moving toward the
sliding door.

“Pocomo!  Watch out!” Rickey screamed in horror.  “Mama, the
camel is trying to step on Pocomo!”

Maggie dashed to the open door and looked out into the
night.  Suddenly, a large camel face loomed in front of her startled one.  She
instinctively pulled back, grabbing Rickey by the shoulder and shoving him
safely behind her.  “There’s a camel in our backyard!” she shrieked.

Rickey gave her a frustrated glance.  “I told you so!”

Maggie spun around, unsure what to do.  “There’s a camel in
our yard,” she muttered, now spinning like a top.

 “Mama, he’s going to step on Pocomo!”

Her son’s voice penetrated.  If something happened to that
little dog…  

“Okay, okay,” she said, striving to calm herself, but still
unsure what to do.  “Uh, we’ll get Pocomo first, and then we’ll call…”  She
gave a shrug.  “Animal control?”

Rickey shrugged.  “Camel control?”

“Pocomo!” she yelled.  “Come!”  He failed to comply, but
then, what else was new?  He never came when called.

“Pocomo!” she persisted.  To her utter and complete
amazement, the little dog charged into the house. 

“I don’t think he’s ever seen a camel before,” Rickey
commented reasonably.  “It probably scared him a little bit.”

“I think you’re right,” Maggie said, and hurriedly slid the
door closed. 

The instant the door slid into place, a big wad of camel
spit pinged off the glass.  “Oooh, gross!” Rickey cried.  “It spitted at you,
Mama!”

“It spit,” she corrected him. 

“That’s not very polite,” he said, making a face at the
camel.

Darkness was rapidly descending, and they no longer had a
clear view of the gargantuan animal.  Maggie flipped on an outdoor light and
immediately saw the camel’s large face pressed against the glass.  Its massive
nostrils flared, leaving puffs of condensation on the door.

“I think it wants in,” Rickey said.  “Should we let it in?”

“No!  Under no circumstances are you to let the camel inside,”
she said, and began spinning again, still uncertain what to do. 

“Mama, maybe it’s hungry.  Should I give it a cookie?”

“Uh, no.  Please don’t feed the camel.”  She took a shoring
breath, as if centering herself.  “Okay, what to do about the camel…?” she
uttered, and then perked up.  “I’ll call the police.  That’s what I’ll do.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t call the fire department?  They
get cats out of trees.  Maybe they’ll get the camel out of our backyard.”

Maggie paused, considering the suggestion.  “You could be
right, son.  Huh?  Firefighter or police officer?” she said, holding out her
hands palms-up, as if weighing her choices.   She finally blew out a breath. 
“I think I’ll call the police.  They can call for firefighters, if need be.”

Rickey gave a shrug.  “Okay.”

Maggie reached for the phone and was about to dial 911, but
paused.  Did a camel in her backyard qualify as an emergency? 

Yep.

She dialed, and a female voice answered. “Nine-one-one,
what’s your emergency?”

“Uh, well, it seems that I, uh…”

“Yes?  Go on, please.”

“I have a camel in my backyard.”

There was a pause at the end of the phone line, followed by
an impatient sigh.  “Ma’am, this line is for emergency calls only.  I must tell
you we don’t appreciate crank calls and that we do have your address and phone
number on record.  If you continue to...”

Suddenly, a huge, resounding boom rocked the back wall of
the house.  The whole structure seemed to shudder.

“Mama!” Rickey screamed.  “The camel just kicked the side of
our house!”

“Boom!” the sound came again.

“It did it again!” Rickey wailed.  “Why is it doing that?  If
it kicks the glass…”

“Send the POLICE!” Maggie cried into the receiver, and hung
up the phone, just as the camel kicked the wall again.  The whole back of the
house was rocked by the force of the blow.  A picture fell off a kitchen wall,
and a small plate fell over the edge of the island and hit the floor, breaking
into several pieces.  Maggie barely registered the shards of glass, until
Rickey moved a bit too close for comfort.

“Honey, don’t step on the broken glass,” she cautioned, as she
moved to the sliding door and pulled back the curtain.  She saw that the
camel’s hind leg was dangerously close to the glass.  As if sensing she was
watching, it spun around.  If camels were capable of looking angry, this one
was definitely miffed.  It lowered its head and appeared to make eye contact
with her.  Its nostrils flared again, making it look even more menacing.

“What does it want?” Maggie wondered aloud, and then let out
a scream when it turned again and gave another swift kick that landed
precariously close to the glass. 

“Stop!” she cried, and then dashed into the kitchen.  She
hurriedly opened the window above the kitchen sink.  “Here, camel, camel,
camel,” she called.

Rickey ran to the sliding door.  “Mama, it’s going over to
you!”

“Okay, okay, good,” she said, spinning around again.  Her
eyes lit on one batch of cookies cooling on a wire rack.  She grabbed up a
handful and tossed them out the window and into the yard.  The camel lumbered
after them and gobbled them up.

“I told you it was hungry,” Rickey said, giving her a
frustrated glance.  “I guess next time I tell you there’s a hungry camel in the
backyard, you’ll listen.”

“I will definitely listen,” she agreed distractedly, and
then let out a shriek when the camel’s head suddenly jutted through the open
kitchen window.

“It wants another cookie, Mama!”

“Oh, okay.”  She gathered a handful and tossed them just
over its head.  It disappeared for a moment, but soon returned, jamming its
head through the open window again.  It strained to reach the cookies.  “Oh,
good grief,” Maggie said, running a hand through her hair.