Dashing Through the Mall: Santa, BabyAssignment HumbugDeck the Halls

by Sherryl Woods

  Her respect for the man shot even higher, if that was possible.

  “We should get her something special,” Tim murmured.

  “Something that will let her know we miss her, but don’t blame her,” Jake added.

  “Hey, Joy, what do girls like?” T.J. asked.

  “Women,” Ed corrected.

  “Hey, I’ve reached an age that being thought of as a girl is rather flattering,” Joy said. “And as for what we like, that’s hard to say. You want something that will let your mother know you’re thinking about her, that you miss her, that you know that this move is as hard for her as it is for you.”

  “Jewelry,” Jake said. “She’s got that ring she wears all the time, the one that her grandmother gave her. She says she wears it because it reminds her of Grandma and reminds her she was loved. We could get her something to remind her we…” He let the sentence trail off.

  Ed had said Jake was sixteen. That was probably too old to go around spouting off in public how much he loved his mother and how much he missed her, but he did both—Joy could see it. Just as she could see echoes of those two emotions in Jake’s brothers’ eyes, as well.

  “I think that’s a lovely idea. We’ll head over to the jewelry counter when we go back, but first things first. Our lunch isn’t complete without dessert.”

  “Are you sure you have time?” Ed asked.

  “Yeah, we don’t need it,” Jake assured her, though the two younger boys were already arguing over sundaes or pies.

  Joy smiled at Ed. “I have time.” To Jake she added, “This is Christmas Eve lunch. And everyone knows you can’t have any holiday meal and not have dessert.”

  Jake didn’t need a second invitation. He was already discussing the dessert possibilities with his brothers.

  “After lunch, we’ll go to the jewelry counter,” she told Ed. “It won’t take us long to finish.”

  That should have been a welcome thought. Instead, it left Joy feeling… She searched for the right word.

  Lonely.

  As odd as it felt, she knew she was going to miss the Halls when they left.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ED’S CELL PHONE RANG as they were wending their way through the crowds.

  He fell behind and Joy was left with the boys.

  She’d started the day with a definite bias against boys, believing all males should be ignored until well into their twenties. But as the three young men talked about holidays past, she had to admit they had a certain amount of charm, albeit a deeply buried, you-really-had-to-dig-for-it sort of charm.

  “…and remember that year T.J. didn’t want that oozy stuff that was all over his favorite TV show. He asked Mom what to do if he got it, and she said, just say thank you and set it aside,” Jake said.

  The other two boys laughed, and Joy felt as if she’d missed something important. “So did he get some?”

  “Yeah,” Tim said. “And we didn’t even buy it for him. My grandmother thought she was being so smart when she got it for all of us. When he opened his—”

  “I said thank you,” T.J. protested.

  “But he didn’t just set it aside and open his next present,” Jake told Joy. “He threw it. It hit the wall with a splat, and blew open, sending green ooze flying all over the room, a big old glob of it in Grandma’s hair.”

  “She screamed,” Tim added.

  “Turns out she thought she was being cool buying it, but she wasn’t cool enough to want to play with it,” T.J. said. “And definitely not cool enough to want to wear it.”

  Jake laughed. “She wanted to do something different from her usual grandma box.”

  “Grandma box?” Joy asked.

  Jake nodded. “She always gets us pajamas—”

  “Even though we tell her we sleep in shorts,” Tim added.

  “And a toothbrush, even—” T.J. said.

  Jake cut him off. “Even though we tell her the dentist always gives us one.”

  “But she hasn’t brought us any cool toys since that Christmas,” T.J. continued. “We’re back to plain old grandma boxes.”

  “Joy, you could pick out old lady pajamas, right?” Jake asked.

  “That’s Ms. O’Connell, Jake,” Ed said, rejoining the group. “And who is she buying old lady pajamas for?”

  “Grandma. We thought we’d give her back a Christmas box. Pajamas, a toothbrush and some of that green ooze stuff. They had it in the toy section. She’d think that was funny, wouldn’t she?”

  Ed smiled. “Yes, your grandma would think it was funny. Remember that Christmas she bought you all the ooze?”

  “We just told Joy,” T.J. said, then quickly corrected himself. “Ms. O’Connell.”

  “Joy’s fine. It’s a lot less of a mouthful.”

  The three boys looked at their dad. “If Joy prefers being Joy, then let’s compromise on Ms. Joy.”

  “Why don’t you three see if there’s anything that you think your mom would like,” Joy prompted.

  As they raced around the jewelry counter, she noticed that Ed was practically radiating pleasure.

  “A good call?”

  “Good news for one of my patients. That’s what took so long. I’d brought their number from the office, just in case I got the results, so I called. There’s nothing like delivering good news on Christmas Eve. We thought it might be cancer, but it wasn’t.”

  Without thinking, Joy reached out and took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “That’s wonderful.”

  He squeezed hers in return. “Yes, it is.”

  She realized what she’d done and pulled her hand back. What was with her? She didn’t seem able to keep her hands off Ed Hall, and that wasn’t like her at all. She’d just met the man.

  Enough was enough. She was just going to help them finish, then forget all about this weird attraction to Dr. Hall.

  “Uh, let’s check on the boys’ progress.”

  “Ms. Joy,” Tim called excitedly from the far end of the case. “Come see.”

  He pointed through the glass to a group of necklaces. “That one.”

  It was a beautiful locket. Three small flowers were etched on the front, anchored with three small diamond chips.

  “She could put our pictures in it and wear it, so that even if we’re not there, we’ll sort of be there.” Jake looked embarrassed, as if that were too mushy a sentiment for a sixteen-year-old boy to have.

  Joy’s throat felt clogged with emotion but she swallowed hard and nodded to a clerk. “That one,” she told the girl, pointing at the locket.

  The girl laid it on a piece of felted board and the boys oohed and aahed over it.

  “How much?” Jake asked the clerk.

  Joy had known it was expensive and well out of the shopping-spree price range the boys had been given, but even she had to gasp at how much out of that range. Seventy-five dollars didn’t buy much in the jewelry department. The store had some moderately priced jewelry, but the locket wasn’t one of those pieces.

  “How about with an employee discount?” she asked.

  The girl did some calculations and gave them another slightly lower quote, but not nearly low enough.

  “Okay, how about at the after-Christmas sale price, plus the employee discount?” Joy tried.

  It was better yet, but still too much.

  “Sorry, boys.” She turned to the clerk, trying to remember the girl’s name. “Aubrey,” she said, finally managing it. “Could you find us something more in keeping with the boys’ budget? Something under one hundred dollars?”

  “Sure, Ms. O’Connell.” The girl started studying items on the shelf and began to set out a selection.

  The boys drew back, whispering among themselves.

  “Ms. O’Connell?” Jake asked. “Could we take our present allowance for each other? We each got seventy-five dollars, and if we add that to our allowance for Mom’s gift? I did the math, and we’re close. We could take the rest from our account, if Dad would loan it to us for today.”
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  “No problem, and not a loan. I’ll pitch in the rest.” Ed’s voice sounded thick with emotion.

  Joy could only nod. To talk, to try and say anything would allow the tears that had formed to escape.

  She struggled a minute and finally said, “Aubrey, would you wrap that up for the gentlemen?”

  “And,” Jake said to his brothers, “you can’t tell her that we gave up our game, guys. Because sometimes just knowing you did something nice has to be enough, right Joy?” He corrected himself, “Ms. Joy?”

  “Right,” she said, amazed that she got the word out.

  She took back every horrible boy-thought she’d ever had. Boys were wonderful. Sweet. At least these ones were. They were—

  “Thirteen,” Ed barked.

  As if they’d used up all their good behavior on that one very nice act, the three of them had started a noogie war that had escalated. T.J. was upside down again, held between his two older brothers.

  “We’ll be back, Aubrey,” Joy said, deciding it would be safer to keep the boys moving. “Come on, guys. Let’s see about finishing off your shopping.”

  * * *

  ED LOVED HIS BOYS, and knew he was probably biased in thinking they were just a bit above the ordinary. But today, they’d shown just a bit wasn’t quite enough. They were extraordinary.

  He looked at the woman walking next to him. “Thanks for all the discounts and for letting them do this.”

  “How could I not?”

  Ed loved his kids with a father’s sort of prejudice. But at this moment, in addition to that love and general father-pride, there was so much more.

  “They’re some kids,” he said.

  Joy nodded. “I know I told you that when I learned I had to take the Hall family around today, I was less than enthusiastic. But truth be told, for the first time this holiday season, I’m feeling my old sense of…”

  She seemed to be struggling to find the right word.

  “Joy?” Ed supplied.

  She laughed. “Yes. Joy. It’s just been missing. But today, your kids gave me back some. They really are great. And, Dr. Hall, I don’t want this to go to your head, or anything, but so are you. Pitching in for your ex-wife’s present…that takes a very big man.”

  “I might not have been so inclined the year or so after the divorce. It wasn’t as nasty and bitter as some, but at the time all I could see was the negative. Distance has made me see Lena for who she is…a great woman who just wasn’t a great fit for me. Which is fair because I wasn’t such a great fit for her, either.”

  At that moment, he looked up and shouted, “Boys!”

  Joy looked over. The boys had been sidetracked at the makeup counter. The store had had a manicurist painting nails a festive holiday red. The girl must be on a break because she was nowhere to be seen and Jake and Tim were holding T.J.’s hand down on the counter and painting his nails while he protested both verbally, and with his feet. Kicking his brothers in the shin in turn.

  “Boys!” Ed said again. Two guilty faces looked up and one furious T.J. yelled, “Dad, did you see what they were doing?”

  “I saw.”

  Just then Rachel, the holiday manicurist, approached them. She took in the scene and said, “Oh, Ms. O’Connell, I’m so sorry. I should have cleaned up my station better before I went on break. I—”

  “No harm, no foul,” Joy assured her. “If you could just remove the polish for T.J.?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Joy moved in to comfort the youngest Hall, while Ed practically dragged the other two away.

  “You know, one minute I’m so proud I could burst with it, and the next—”

  Before he could finish both boys said in unison, “Sorry, Dad.”

  “I’m very disappointed in you both.”

  “We were just kidding with him.”

  “If the two of you are laughing, but he isn’t, that’s not kidding. Rule Nine.”

  “Be smart, behave and be kind,” Jake quoted.

  “Were you?”

  They didn’t need to answer. Ed could see that they knew they’d acted inappropriately. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “Apologize to T.J.” Tim shot his younger brother a less than apologetic look.

  “And?”

  Jake heaved a sigh of the mightily put-upon. “To Ms. Joy.”

  “Right. She’s been truly helpful to us, so I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you make things as easy on her as possible.”

  The boys looked contrite enough for Ed to feel they’d been sufficiently lectured. “Fine. Let’s go get those apologies out of the way, and finish shopping so that Ms. O’Connell can get back to work and get out of here on time.”

  The boys ran over to Joy and T.J. Ed stayed back and just watched them. Joy had helped T.J. remove the polish and was listening intently to what the two older boys said.

  She smiled, nodded, then reached out to casually mess their hair. T.J. seemed to accept the apology, as well.

  Then the four huddled together talking rapidly about something. The closer Ed got, the more hushed the discussion became.

  “What’s up?”

  “We were wondering if maybe you had some private shopping you needed to attend to,” Joy said.

  She had the look that Ed recognized because he saw it so often on his sons. A look that spelled d-a-n-g-e-r. “What are you up to?”

  “Don’t you know you never should ask that question at Christmas?” Joy scolded. “We need a half hour, so basically, get lost, Dr. Hall.”

  “Yeah, Dad. Get lost,” T.J. parroted.

  “You’re sure you want to try to handle these three on your own?” Ed asked, the enforced nail painting had to still be fresh in her mind.

  “They’ll behave.”

  Ed looked at the boys, and all three nodded.

  “We made up, Dad,” T.J. assured him. “Jake and Tim said I could go first on the Xbox for the next week ’cause they were sorry.”

  “Well, then okay, if you’re sure?” It was more a question than his agreement.

  He watched her bristle at his doubt and had to admit, if only to himself, she was cute when she was annoyed.

  She drew herself up, spine straight, shoulders squared. All that was missing was her shaking a finger in his direction. “Dr. Hall—”

  “Ed.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she folded her arms. “Ed, I can manage an entire store, have survived moving across the country and leaving behind everything I grew up with. I think I can manage three boys.” She pointed toward the escalator. “See you in about twenty minutes in the electronics department.”

  Looking at her, all ruffled and annoyed he felt another overwhelming urge to kiss her. Since his boys and a large contingent of holiday shoppers surrounded them, he opted not to try. Instead, he shot the boys a warning dad-eye and smiled at Joy. “Well then, have fun.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHAT HAD SHE BEEN THINKING?

  I can manage an entire store, have survived moving across the country and leaving behind everything I grew up with. I think I can manage three boys.

  Joy knew she had said the words with such certainty.

  She’d believed them.

  She was a capable, competent woman. Surely she could handle taking three boys to buy their dad a Christmas present on her own.

  At least anyone looking at her curriculum vitae would think she could.

  And to be honest, the boys hadn’t been bad. There was no poking, punching or nail painting.

  What there had been was incessant, loud arguments about what constituted the perfect present for their father.

  And taking boys upstairs by the fine china, crystal department? Oh, she’d tried to steer them away from that section. The problem was, the homeware department was the first one, straight ahead, as you got off the escalator.

  “That’s going to change,” Joy muttered more to herself than to the boys.

  And after the harrowing trek, th
ey’d found nothing. Nada. Zilch.

  “Dad’s hard to shop for,” Jake said in the biggest understatement of the day.

  “You guys can’t think of anything? Does he go to a gym?” The boys’ amused looks answered that question.

  “Tools? I mean is he into cars or building things?”

  This brought about a bunch of snorting and laughter.

  “Pajamas?” she tried, feeling desperate. “In keeping with Grandma’s tradition?”

  Jamie would have figured out something unique and wonderful within seconds and here she was reduced to pajamas. “I mean, everyone can use a new pair of pajamas.”

  “Dad sleeps naked,” T.J. said.

  An image of a naked Dr. Hall flitted through her mind’s eye…more than flitted. It just sort of hung there, front and center, until Jake thwacked his younger brother on the head. “You don’t talk about that in public. Rule Number Twenty.”

  “Sorry, Joy.” T.J. did look contrite.

  Jake gave his younger brother a nice clone dad-eye.

  “Ms. Joy,” T.J. hastily corrected.

  “That leaves us nothing.”

  “Hey, I have an idea,” Tim cried. “We could get him—”

  Joy knew what was coming. “Let me guess, it involves electronics?”

  “One of those personal organizers things,” Tim continued, excitedly. “You can put in appointments and birthdays, so you don’t forget.”

  “What he’s saying is he doesn’t want Dad to forget his birthday. It’s in January,” Jake told Joy. “And that’s a dumb idea. Dad still hasn’t figured out how to run his iPod. We have to help him with the updates. What makes you think he could figure out something even harder.”

  “iPods are easy,” T.J. said. “He just doesn’t like messing with the computer, and he has a whole bunch of CDs to put on the computer and says it would take too long.”

  “You know,” Joy said. “Sometimes it’s not how much you spend on a gift, but how much thought went into it. What if you all re-gave him his iPod. Give him a certificate under the tree saying you’ll get his CDs onto the computer, then program his iPod for him? It might not cost you a lot, but it’s something he might really enjoy.”