by Kate James
“Laura Andrews.”
“It’s Daniel Kinsley, and I’d appreciate your help with something.”
“Sure, Daniel. I’d be happy to assist if I can.”
“I need some information about Jason’s mother.”
A note of apprehension crept into Laura’s voice. “Now, Daniel, that’s against our policies. Most of our families are proud, hard-working people, and they don’t feel good about needing assistance. We assure them that we’ll keep identities confidential.”
He chuckled. “Oh, I don’t need to know her identity. Just a little about her.”
“I don’t understand...”
“It’s nothing sinister. Based on what you told me, I figure she’s unlikely to splurge on anything for herself. It occurred to me that I’d like to get a few things for her, too.”
“That’s very considerate of you. What do you have in mind?”
He chuckled again. “I haven’t got a clue!” Whenever he’d dated a woman during the holidays, invariably the gift of choice had been jewelry. He was well versed in the cut and clarity of diamonds, although he’d always stayed clear of rings. But he didn’t consider jewelry an appropriate gift for this particular woman. “That’s where I need your help, Laura. Can you give me some ideas?”
“Let me think... Yes! I know exactly the types of things she could use.”
Daniel made a list. It shocked him that he was looking forward to doing more shopping.
*
PAIGE WAS GRATEFUL that Jason was feeling better after his treatment. It had been his last before Christmas, and they were able to spend a quiet weekend at home. Mr. Weatherly’s gift of a small Christmas tree aside, they had an agreement with their neighbors that they wouldn’t exchange gifts, other than each of them bringing some small toy for Jason, and Jason painting everyone a picture. Since their neighbors were leaving for Christmas over the coming days, they all stopped by Paige and Jason’s apartment to offer holiday greetings. First it was Mr. and Mrs. Bennett from across the hall, Mr. Bennett making a special effort to move around despite his severe arthritis. Next it was Chelsea, brimming with excitement about introducing Joel to her parents.
Sunday morning, Jason was working with his watercolors at the dining room table. Paige sat down beside him, tilting her head to see what he was painting.
The background was a mottled green. The large form in the foreground was mostly filled with a pale burnt-orange wash, leaving some sections white. Jason was working with a fine bristle brush and undiluted black paint. As Paige watched, the form started to take the shape of a tiger—a rather well-executed one.
Where had her son gotten his talent? Neither she nor her ex-husband was artistic, but there was no denying that Jason had a gift. She began to say so when a knock sounded at the door. Jason was reaching over to put his brush down, but Paige laid a hand on his wrist. “You keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll get it.”
“Good morning, Mr. Weatherly,” Paige greeted him. He was dressed as spiffily as usual, with a vest under his houndstooth check jacket, a bow tie and a fedora.
“Hi, Mr. Weatherly!” Jason stuck his paint brush into the mason jar on the table and ran over.
“A merry Christmas to you, Jason.” He handed Jason a package wrapped in gold foil with a big red bow. “Hold on to this until Christmas,” he said with mock sternness. “Don’t open it until then.”
Jason shook the box gently and listened to the slight rattle.
“No trying to guess, either, young man!”
“Okay. And thank you. I’ll go get your gift.” Jason hurried to his room and returned carrying a large envelope, hand-decorated with a Christmas motif, and with Mr. Weatherly’s name beautifully written on the front. “This is for you.” He held the envelope out to Mr. Weatherly.
“Thank you, young man. If you don’t mind, I’ll wait to open this, too. Gifts should be opened on Christmas morning, don’t you think?”
Jason nodded.
“Mr. Weatherly, would you like a cup of tea?” Paige asked.
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
He followed Jason to the table, while Paige went into the kitchen. Their conversation drifted in to her as she made the tea.
“This is going to be a tiger, isn’t it?” he asked Jason as he studied his painting.
Jason knelt on his chair and picked up his brush. “Yes. It’s a Bengal tiger.”
“I can see that. Well done. And you’re painting it from your imagination?”
“From my memory! I saw one in a zoo once.”
“You did?”
“Oh, it was a long time ago.” Jason added a few more black stripes to the tiger’s face. “When my dad was still around.”
He nodded. “What made you want to paint it now?”
Jason moistened the tip of his brush again and swirled it lightly over the cake of black paint. He glanced toward the kitchen doorway. Keeping his voice low, he responded. “Every year, at Christmas, I make something for my dad. Something he’d like. He really liked the tiger at the zoo, so I thought I’d paint him a picture of a tiger this year.”
Hearing her son’s words, Paige froze in the doorway, a tray with cups, milk and sugar, a pot of tea and a plate of cookies in her hands. Jason took that moment to glance up again. Their eyes met. Paige moved forward and placed the tea service on the table. She poured three cups of tea, passed Mr. Weatherly his cup, and made hers and Jason’s with a bit of sugar and some milk.
They chatted until Mr. Weatherly finished his tea and rose. “Well, I’d better be off now, since I’m leaving for my trip soon.” He held Jason’s envelope in one hand, tapping it lightly on the palm of the other. “I thank you for this, and I know I’ll love it. Merry Christmas to you both!” He gave each of them a stiff little hug, and they said their good-byes.
Paige cleaned up the tea service before rejoining Jason in the dining room.
She sat at the table, elbows resting on the surface, not quite knowing how to broach the topic of Jason’s painting. “It’s turning out really well,” she began.
“Thanks, Mom,” he mumbled, but he avoided eye contact.
Her heart had been aching from the time she’d heard Jason’s admission to Mr. Weatherly, but fresh pain seared her now. She ran a comforting hand up and down Jason’s back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about what I heard.”
His eyes darted to hers before he lowered his lashes again. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
She took the brush out of his hand, placed it back in the mason jar, then drew him into a hug. “Oh, sweetie. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” As his arms tightened around her waist, she rocked him gently. “I’d like us to talk about it, though.”
He gave her one final squeeze before settling back in his chair, but he remained silent.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Jason picked up his brush and fidgeted with it. “I know we’ll probably never see Dad again,” he muttered.
Paige felt the burn of tears.
“It’s no big deal,” he said quickly. He twirled the brush between his fingers. “But every year I make something for Dad. This year, it’s the tiger. Just in case...” He shrugged. “After Christmas, I’ll put it away. I have a shoe box I use for that. Last year I made him a candy dish at school.”
Paige had wondered what had happened to the pretty blue-and-white dish.
“After Christmas, I’ll put the painting of the tiger in the box, too.”
Jason’s eyes shone with some indefinable emotion when he looked up at her, “Then if I do see him again, the presents will all be there for him.”
Paige’s heart simply shattered, but she’d die before she’d let Jason see that. She smoothed his bangs back from his forehead and brushed her lips across his brow. “That’s very thoughtful of you. It’s a beautiful painting. I know your father would love it.”
Jason straightened his shoulders and swirled his brush over the cake of black paint. “Thanks, Mom
.” His voice soft, he added, “Maybe someday I will be able to give it to him.”
*
DANIEL WAS ASTONISHED to discover that he actually enjoyed shopping for Christmas gifts despite the crowds, noise and general cacophony. He’d even taken care of all the wrapping. Well, not personally. That was beyond his capabilities or, perhaps more accurately, his patience. But he felt good about that, too, because he’d had everything wrapped by one of those charitable gift wrapping services in the mall.
He dropped off all the brightly wrapped packages for Jason and the few for Jason’s mother at the Foundation’s warehouse so they could be delivered the day before Christmas.
The only thing missing was the deluxe electric train set he’d ordered. Two days before Christmas, he called the hobby store’s owner again to follow up on the delivery date.
“I’m so sorry for the delay, Mr. Kinsley, but the manufacturer didn’t realize how popular train sets would be this year.”
“But you told me—”
“I did, and I am a man of my word. I’ve contacted the manufacturer. He’s working around the clock to fill all the orders, even though it’s costing him more money and he likely won’t make a profit on these remaining sets. I know that’s not your concern, but I just want you to appreciate his commitment. He’s promised to deliver all the train sets by Christmas. Yours was one of the last orders placed. Unfortunately, that means it’s also one of the last being manufactured. He’s trying for tomorrow, but if that’s not possible, he will absolutely have it done by Christmas morning.”
Daniel was somewhat reassured, but now he needed another favor from Laura. He knew this one would be a challenge for her. There was no point in delaying the inevitable, so he called her number next.
When she answered the phone, he began, “Laura, I’ve got a problem.”
“Of all the people I know, I’d think you’d be the least likely to have a problem. Not one you can’t resolve, anyway,” Laura teased him.
“See, that’s the thing about assumptions. They’re often wrong.”
Daniel summarized the situation, and the humor went out of Laura’s voice. “I explained our confidentiality provisions before. If I’m not at liberty to give you a name, I certainly can’t give you an address, especially without checking with Jason’s mother.”
“You can’t check with her. I want it to be a surprise for both of them. You should see this train set, Laura! The kid’s going to flip.”
“I really can’t—”
“As for a courier, I’ve already looked into that without any luck. How about one of your staff, then? I really want Jason to have the train set.”
After a brief silence, Laura responded. “I don’t have anyone I could ask. They’re mostly volunteers, and they’ve worked exceptionally long hours this year because of the large number of families needing help. I couldn’t take them away from their families. I’d do it myself, but I promised my parents I’d visit them. I can’t disappoint them.”
“Then I have to do it. I’m a lawyer. That means I have a code of ethics that requires me to respect confidentiality. I just want the kid to have this train set, and there’s nothing I can do to get it earlier. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“All right, Daniel. I’m breaking the rules here. I hope you know this could cost me my job, but you have a compelling argument, and you’re not leaving me much choice.”
“Thank you, Laura! You won’t lose your job. I promise. If anyone gets any ideas about it, I’ll get you the meanest, most tenacious employment lawyer in existence.” He laughed. “Opposing counsel won’t have a chance, but it won’t come to that.”
CHAPTER SIX
THE DAY BEFORE Christmas, Paige felt sluggish and achy. She’d been working long hours and odd shifts so she could take Jason for his various doctors’ appointments. She had her checkbook, her phone and a pile of bills in front of her. Her bank balance had been teetering on the brink of overdraft for weeks now, but with the extra hours she’d worked, she’d been able to keep it in the black.
She slid another bill toward her. She paid it through the automated system and checked her balance—precariously close to zero. She would definitely be dipping into overdraft this week, and she’d barely done any Christmas shopping. Between work and taking care of Jason, Paige had had the chance to buy him only one gift so far. She’d wait until Jason lay down for his nap and call Mrs. Bennett to watch him for a couple of hours before their daughter picked them up. That way she could slip out for a bit and do some shopping.
She glanced up when Jason walked into the kitchen. He was wearing his pale blue pajamas, adorned with Squidward Tentacles, Patrick Star and some of the other characters from his favorite cartoon. He wore furry dog slippers and had his teddy tucked under his arm. He was dragging his feet, a sure sign that he was tired.
Paige got up and went to him. Crouching down, she cupped his cheeks in the palms of her hands. She could see the sheen of perspiration on his face, and touched his forehead lightly, checking his temperature. He had a slight fever. She’d have to make a note of it in his health journal.
“Let’s get you some juice before your nap, okay?”
He nodded sadly.
She poured him a small glass of orange juice, and she held his teddy while he drank it. Ill as he was, he still shuffled over to the sink and put his empty glass in it before reclaiming his teddy. With Paige’s hand on his shoulder, they walked to his bedroom.
Paige tucked him in and lowered his blinds. She sat with him as he read aloud from The Hobbit until his eyelashes fluttered closed and the rhythm of his breathing changed. Paige dropped a kiss on his forehead and turned off his bedside lamp.
She watched him until she was satisfied that he was napping comfortably.
Closing his bedroom door, she started for the kitchen to call Mrs. Bennett. Suddenly, the room swam in front of her, and she leaned heavily on the doorframe to keep from falling. Brushing her hair back with her free hand, she noted that her own forehead was warm, too. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself. “Okay. I’m okay,” she whispered. “Just a little tired.”
She pushed away from the doorframe and moved slowly into the living room. Before she went shopping, she’d sit down and rest for a few minutes. She lowered herself gingerly to the sofa and sighed in relief as she rested her head against the cushion. She’d close her eyes for a little while, and she’d be fine.
She bolted up at the pounding behind her temples and winced at the sharp pain that followed it. She grabbed her head with both hands. When she heard the banging again, she realized with a measure of relief that the racket was not in her head but at her door. Disoriented, she checked her watch. It was well over an hour since she’d sat down and closed her eyes.
The knocking resumed. She rose as quickly as her throbbing head would allow, worried that the noise would wake Jason. Groggy, she swayed as she went to answer the door.
Two delivery men stood in the corridor. They held large cartons overflowing with Christmas-wrapped packages.
“Ah...may I help you?” she asked with some confusion.
The younger of the men jiggled the carton he was holding and leaned an edge against the doorframe. He flashed her a crooked smile. “Yes, ma’am. We have some gifts for you.” He jostled the carton again and raised his right knee to balance it on his upper leg. “They’re darn heavy.”
“I don’t understand...”
The two men exchanged a look. It was the other, older man who spoke. “Are you Ms. Summerville?”
“Yes,” Paige replied hesitantly.
“These are for you, from the Wish I May Foundation.”
Paige belatedly recognized the Foundation logos on their jackets and raised a hand to her forehead. “Oh, I’d forgotten. This...” She gestured at the large cartons. “This is all from the Foundation? For us?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“May we come in, please?” the younger man asked again, obviously struggling not to drop hi
s carton.
“Yes. Yes, of course.” Paige stood back, opened the door fully and motioned for them to enter. As they did, she snuck into the kitchen to take a couple of painkillers for her headache. When she returned, she was surprised to find not only the two large cartons but also a smaller box of decorations, another box with some nonperishable groceries and a large cooler she assumed was filled with food. A bound Christmas tree leaned against her living room wall, and the two men were busy assembling a tree stand.
With everything else on her mind, she had forgotten about the Wish I May Foundation. Clearly its executive director, Laura, had delivered on her promise. Paige shook her head in amazement at all the boxes in her living room.
“Where would you like your tree?” the older man inquired.
A tree was something else Paige had planned to get that day. Dazed, she looked around the room and pointed to the corner behind the armchair. “Over there, please.”
“Good choice. That way you can see it from your sofa and your dining room.”
“Can I get you some coffee or juice?” Paige offered.
The older man glanced at his partner, who shook his head. “No, thanks. We’re fine.”
They spread out a large sheet to keep the pine needles from getting all over the floor and began unwrapping the tree and setting it up.
The tree was absolutely beautiful! It had to be at least seven feet tall. In the stand, it nearly reached the ceiling.
Finished with the tree, the men gathered up the twine, the packaging for the stand and their tools and moved to the door. “Have a merry Christmas,” they said with cheerful smiles.
“Oh, wait. Just a minute, please.” Paige rushed into the kitchen, returning a moment later, rummaging through her handbag. “Here.” She pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and held it out to the older man. She couldn’t really afford the tip, but they’d taken such care and effort setting up the tree, and it was a blessing to have received so much.
The older man raised both hands, palms out. “That’s very kind, but no, thank you. It’s been our pleasure.” They both wished her a merry Christmas again as they left.
