The Happiest Season (15 page)

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Authors: Rosemarie Naramore

BOOK: The Happiest Season
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“Rickey,” Maggie said tiredly.  “He doesn’t belong to you.”

 “Mama, he didn’t kick the house, or spit on me, or tear up
the grass, or sneeze on me or
anything
.  He’s really nice.  Please let
him stay.”  He grinned winningly.  “I figure I can take him to school with me. 
Mary did!”

She shook her head, confused.  “
What
?”

“You know!  Mary had a little lamb…  It followed her to
school one day…”

“Oh, heaven help me,” she muttered.  “Ricky, you cannot take
that lamb to school.”

“We have guinea pigs there.  Why not a lamb, too?”

“You’re not taking him anywhere, and you are most definitely
not keeping a lamb in your bed,” she said firmly. 

“Okay!” he said agreeably, “I’ll keep him in the closet.” 

Maggie turned toward John and met his gaze.  His brown eyes
were twinkling with humor.  “Help me here,” she said with frustration.

“Rickey, I’m afraid the lamb needs to go back to his animal
friends,” John said.

The little boy shook his head.  “John, if he wanted them, he
would have stayed with them,” he said, jutting out his lower lip in defiance. 
“He’s mine.”  He draped a protective arm around the little animal.  “He’s my
new friend since you’re not my friend anymore,” he said sadly, with a pronounced
pout on his face. 

“Ah, Rickey…” he sighed, feeling horrible for essentially failing
to keep a promise to the little boy.

“The lamb has to go,” Maggie said firmly, clapping her hands
together.  She gave a nod in John’s direction and he reached for the animal. 

Rickey flew out of the bed.  “Give him back!  He’s mine!  I
love him and he loves me!”

“Rickey,” Maggie warned.  “Stay here.  You and I are going
to have a talk.”

John carried the lamb down the stairs.  He set it on its
feet and quickly dialed the owner.  After hanging up, he turned his attention
to Rickey, who had come downstairs with Maggie.  He bent down at eye level to
the little boy.  “I understand you care about this lamb, but he isn’t meant to
live in a house.”

“Why not?”

“Because he was meant to be outside, with all of his
friends.  That’s why he wears a wool coat.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

When someone knocked on the door, John picked up the lamb
and carried it to the door.  He opened it and passed the lamb to an awaiting
man.  He didn’t bother making small talk with him.  If the guy couldn’t keep
track of his animals, he had no business loaning them to a live nativity
scene.  Rickey was right.  The baby lamb could have been badly hurt.

  John closed the door, and Maggie rejoined him there. 
“Thanks for coming by.  If you hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have found the lamb
until morning.”

He laughed lightly.  “You’ll probably want to change out
Rickey’s bedding.”

“Yep.  That was my first thought,” she admitted, and then
turned to her son.  “Upstairs, young man.”  Almost as an afterthought, she
added, “Change your pajamas and climb into my bed.  I’ll have to change out
your bedding tomorrow.  I’m too tired tonight,” she finished wearily.

He appeared as if he might argue, but then stomped up the
stairs in a huff.  Maggie turned back to John.  “Thanks again.”

He nodded and reached for the doorknob, but paused, and
turned back to catch her gaze.  “How was your week?” he asked.

“Fine,” she answered crisply.

“My, uh, week was busy,” he said.

She nodded.  “I imagine things get more hectic in your line
of work as the holiday approaches.”

He nodded again.  “Yes.”

“Well, all right then…”

“Okay.”  He reached for the doorknob, but once again,
refrained from turning it to allow himself out.  Instead, he turned and looked
into her eyes.  She read a question in the depths of his irises, and couldn’t
for the life of her discern what he was asking.

His gaze lingered for a moment, but when his face came
closer, she didn’t register his intent was to kiss her, until his warm lips
merged with her own.  He pressed with a gentle insistence, deepening the kiss,
until…

Common sense prevailed.  He pulled back, eyes wide with
alarm.  He’d just kissed a woman, and while on the job.  What was happening to
him?

He swallowed hard.  “Maggie, I’m…”

She appeared to take a gulp of air, and then waved her hand
dismissively.  “It’s…  Uh…  Wow.”  Embarrassed that she couldn’t manage a
coherent thought, she only stared at him, mouth agape.

He stared back, as if in a trance.  Finally, he shook his
head to clear it.  “Maggie, I’m sor—“  He abruptly shook his head, his eyes widening
once again, as he realized something of import—something significant.  He
wasn’t sorry he’d kissed her.  And he wanted to do it again.

He leaned in, intending to do just that, when she pulled
back.  She raised a hand to her lips, and he saw a flutter of apprehension in
her eyes.  She appeared so confused, so uncertain, he realized that what he
wanted wasn’t relevant at this moment.  He’d kissed her, without thought as to
how she might feel about it.

Clearly, she wasn’t pleased.

He rose to his full height.  “I’m sorry,” he said, but shook
his head.  “I mean, I’m not sorry I kissed you.”  He gave a bleak smile.  “I’m
sorry that you didn’t want me to.”

She watched him, her brows low and her eyes reflecting
confusion.  She wrung her hands nervously. 

While waiting for her to respond, he acknowledged something
to himself he had been unwilling to before—he had feelings for Maggie and
wanted to explore them further.  He couldn’t run away from them, however, at
this moment, he needed out of her house and back into his patrol car, where he
could think.

“I should go.” 

He turned to do just that, when he felt her hand on his
arm.  “John” she said tentatively, uncertainly, “I think I wanted you to kiss
me.”  She gave a self-conscious smile.  “I mean, in retrospect, I … liked it.”

He smiled widely, clearly relieved.  “I was wondering…”

“Yes?”

“Would you join me for dinner tomorrow?  I can pick you up
around seven.”

She paused only briefly, but nodded.  “I … think so.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied.  “See you tomorrow.”

Chapter
Twelve

 

Rickey stood at the top of the stairs.  He’d just seen John
kiss his mother.  And then he realized with a flash of awareness, God had
answered his prayers!  God had sent him a daddy!

Why hadn’t he figured it out sooner?  Sure, God had sent a
camel, and a donkey, and tonight a lamb, but he’d sent John too.

With a beaming grin, he ran into his mother’s bedroom.  He
knelt down beside the bed.  “Thank you, God!” he prayed.  “I should have
figured it out sooner.  I was giving you a hard time about sending the animals,
and I’m really sorry about that.  I should have realized that you used them to
bring John to me and Mama.”  He glanced heavenward.  “Thanks again!  I like
John.  I was kinda mad at him before, but I’m over it.  You made a good
choice.”  He rose and climbed into bed. 

Maggie found him there a moment later.  He’d already fallen
asleep.

She stared down at his face.  He looked so utterly and
completely serene, his little features angelic.  He almost appeared to be
smiling in his sleep.

If only she was experiencing that same serenity.  She
smoothed a hand across his brow, and then turned to go back downstairs.  It was
still relatively early and she couldn’t sleep now if she wanted to.  The memory
of John’s kiss remained seared in her brain.  She could almost feel the warmth
of his lips on her own.

Downstairs, she dropped onto the loveseat and reached for a
pillow.  She gathered it against her chest.  She relived the kiss again,
acknowledging that she had enjoyed it.  Remembering it, she felt a warmth surge
through her, and discovered something she’d attempted to suppress for the past
two years—she yearned for the comfort of a man’s arms around her.

She sighed.  Was she weak to want the company of a man?  Was
she wrong to miss having someone to turn to when things got difficult?  Or when
she simply wanted to share a laugh with someone she cared about and who cared
about her in return?

She shook her head.  She was getting ahead of herself.  One
date didn’t portend a relationship was imminent.  John might find he didn’t like
her.  She might find she didn’t like him.  She still felt she might not be
ready for dating, let alone a relationship.

Gloria had urged her to give dating a try, and maybe her
friend was right.  Maybe she should go out with him.    

Maggie rose and climbed the stairs to her room.  She smiled
when she found Rickey splayed out across the bed, having tossed the covers
off.  She gently urged him to one side of the bed, noting that Pocomo was lying
between the two pillows at the head of the bed.  She gave the dog a pat on the
head and rounded the foot of the bed and climbed into her side.  She tugged the
covers over her and then lay back, thinking.

Should she keep her date with John? 

 

***

 

“Are you dressed and ready?” Gloria asked.  “I’m only five
minutes away.”

“I am,” Maggie said with a sigh.  “And have I thanked you
for babysitting?”

“Yes, many times.  Don’t mention it.  Rickey and I are going
to have fun.  And you’d be wise to try to do the same.”

“Hey, I’m going, arent’ I?” she said, chuckling uneasily. 

“Everything’s going to be fine.  Deep breaths…” Gloria
urged, demonstrating.  “I’m pulling in front of your place right now.”

“Okay.”

Maggie hurried downstairs to open the door for her friend,
but found Rickey already there.  “Gloria, Mama’s going to let us order pizza!”
he announced.  “I want pepperoni?  What’s your favorite, because we can get
what you like, even if you don’t like pepperoni…”

Gloria smiled at Maggie, and then turned her attention to
the exuberant little boy.  “You’re in luck,” she said eagerly.  “I love
pepperoni too!”

“All right!” he cried, and charged into the family room,
where he had a puzzle waiting.

“What time is John coming?” Gloria asked, as she shed her
coat.

Maggie took it from her.  “He should be here any minute,”
she said, and frowned.  “I hope I’m ready for this.”

“You’re ready,” Gloria assured her. 

Both women startled when the doorbell rang.

“It’s him!” Maggie said shrilly.

Gloria gave her a rueful look.  “Probably.  Answer the
door,” she directed.

“Oh, right.”  Maggie took a deep breath and ran her hands
along the front of her dress.  “Okay, I’m ready,” she said aloud.  “Well, not
really, but…”

“Open the door!” Gloria said, chuckling as she headed for
the family room.

Maggie took a final shoring breath and pulled open the front
door.  John stood on her front porch, holding a bouquet of flowers.  Dressed in
dark slacks and a sweater, he looked crisp and handsome. 

He passed her the flowers and she couldn’t help smiling.  It
had been years since she’d received flowers from anyone, let alone a handsome
man.

“White roses, my favorite,” she said, smiling as she
gestured him inside.  She closed the door behind him and couldn’t help admiring
the bouquet that featured holly berries and baby’s breath along with the
roses.  The effect was stunning.  “Thank you so much,” she said, smiling shyly.

“You’re welcome,” he said, meeting her gaze.  She saw his brown
eyes were sparkling and that he was pleased to have made her happy. 

“John’s here!” Rickey cried, and came running around the
corner and into the foyer.  “Hi, John!  Gloria, John brought Mama flowers!”

“He did,” Maggie said.  “And I need to find a vase.”

“There’s one in the kitchen,” Rickey informed.  “Beneath the
sink.”

Maggie hadn’t remembered she’d stored a vase there.  She
ruffled her son’s already unruly dark hair.  “Thank you, son.”

John followed mother and son into the kitchen, where Maggie
promptly retrieved the vase.  Gloria also joined them at the kitchen island and
watched her fill the vase with water and skillfully arrange the flowers in it. 
“I think you’ve done that before,” Gloria commented with appreciation.

“I worked at a floral shop years ago,” she said, as she
stepped back to admire her handiwork.  “The roses are just gorgeous,” she
gushed.

“Mama has a present for you too, John!” Rickey told him.

John smiled in response, and Maggie turned as red as the
berries on the holiday greenery.

“I baked cookies,” she said self-consciously.  “It isn’t really
a present…”

“Home baked cookies!” John enthused.  “You can’t ask for a
better present than that, eh Rickey?”

The little boy shook his head.  “Well, except for Gloria’s
fudge.”

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