Blown Away

by Muriel Jensen

  “I’m sure. You enjoy it. And I’ll see you Saturday.”

  “When can I start coming to exercise Mel?” Taylor asked.

  “I’ve got swing shift the next few days, so I won’t be home,” Cole replied. “I’m off this weekend, then I’m on days all next week. How about Monday?”

  Taylor looked disappointed. “That’s four days away.”

  “But you’ll see him Saturday,” Kara reminded him.

  The little boy’s expression changed with flattering speed. “Oh, yeah. Okay.” Taylor gave Mel a parting pat, then the dog followed Cole to the door.

  “I’ll come to the mall early Saturday,” Cole said as he and Mel accompanied Kara and Taylor out to the sidewalk. “So you have plenty of time.”

  “I’ll be ready.” Kara put an arm around Taylor’s shoulders and they headed to the corner, Taylor talking a mile a minute about Mel. They stopped to wave, and Cole waved back.

  He waited on the sidewalk until they disappeared from sight. She’d be ready, Kara had said. Presumably she’d meant to wrap his gifts, but he’d detected an undercurrent in her words, and wondered if that was all she’d intended.

  Because he wasn’t sure he was ready, even though flirtatious remarks kept coming out of his mouth and he could scarcely look at her without remembering what it had felt like to have her pressed against him. Suddenly his imagination went to work on what it would be like to have her naked and in his arms.

  He ran back into the house, Mel at his side as though they were on a job. He picked up the dog bowl and dumped the contents in the trash. After washing and drying it carefully, he ran his hand inside to make sure no tiny bits of glass had escaped him, then he refilled the bowl. Mel attacked the food as though he hadn’t eaten in a week.

  Cole felt like some sex-deprived adolescent who conjured up mental images of beautiful women. Except that wasn’t the only way he thought about Kara. She was warm and maternal, but also brave and feisty…and fair. Most of all, she was fun to be with.

  Suddenly warning bells seemed to go off in Cole’s brain. What was happening here? A fantasy was fine. He just wasn’t ready for anything else.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “YOU’RE SURE BRAD wouldn’t like a sweater-vest?” Shirley asked, as Cole filled her outstretched arms with all the light packages Brad had bought for Emily and was hiding at Cole’s place. “A doctor should look distinguished even when he isn’t on duty, then patients trust him. A sense of responsibility can be reflected in the clothes you wear.”

  “Really.” Cole reached into the bed of his black Dodge Ram for a stack of heavier things. “I didn’t know that. I didn’t say he wouldn’t like it. You should get him what you want to get him.”

  “But you gave me that look.”

  “What look?”

  “The ‘poor misguided fogy from another century’ look. Are you telling me sweater-vests have gone out of fashion?”

  “I haven’t seen any recently.”

  She sighed as she marched beside him across the large parking lot and into the mall. Piped-in Christmas carols greeted them. At just after ten on a Saturday morning, the mall was already full of excited children and parents bracing for a marathon of shopping.

  For the first time ever—including when he was married—Cole felt envious of these families who seemed so caught up in the holiday spirit. He stopped in his tracks, stunned by the realization.

  Shirley halted beside him. “What is it, Cole?”

  “Uh…just didn’t want to run over that little girl.” With one finger, he pointed at the toddler who’d just run across his path. “You keeping up?”

  “Yes. Cute little thing, isn’t she?” Shirley said, smiling in the direction of the child. “You could have a few of those if you got married again.”

  “Aunt Shirley…” he pleaded, falling into step beside her once more.

  “The fact that you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t make it a taboo subject, you know.” She grinned affectionately at him.

  “Do you want to walk home?” he threatened.

  “The girls are taking me home after we have lunch. I’d intended to buy your present today, but that’s questionable now.”

  “The girls” were three women around Shirley’s age. They called themselves the Courage Bay Grannies and were very involved in fund-raising and community action.

  Cole spotted Kara at a long table set up against one wall. She was laboring over a package while Taylor spun a spool of ribbon on one finger. A stack of boxes was piled at one end of the table, along with a two-roll paper cutter.

  Taylor spotted Cole and raced toward him, taking the plastic bag dangling from his fingers. “Hi, Cole!” he said, sounding glad to see him. He was probably already bored and looking forward to a little action—even if it involved shopping.

  “Hi, Taylor.” Cole introduced his aunt. “Shirley lives just about a block from you.”

  Taylor politely shook her hand. “Mom’s already made twelve dollars!” He seemed to consider that a small fortune. “And she got a carpet roller to wrap your brother’s skis in.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Hi!” Kara walked over and greeted them warmly, then helped Cole place his packages behind the table.

  Cole introduced his aunt to Kara, and mentioned that Shirley was a good friend of Candy Lester, Gehlen’s mother, who volunteered in the principal’s office.

  “Candy’s one of my favorite people,” Kara enthused. “I had no idea she was Gehlen’s mother.”

  It had always been Cole’s theory that Gehlen hiked and climbed in an effort to escape his mother. Candy’s hair was dyed blond, she wore false eyelashes at seventy-something, and her favorite item of clothing was a fuchsia baseball cap covered in rhinestones.

  Moments later Shirley excused herself to meet her friends. As she bustled away into the crowd, Kara said, “What a lovely lady.”

  “That she is,” Cole agreed.

  “Where’s Mel?” Taylor asked.

  “I left him home,” Cole replied. “He doesn’t like crowds.” He turned to Kara. “Can I do anything to help? I hate to leave you with all this.”

  She handed him a pad of sticky notes. “Yes, you can put a note on each package with the name of the recipient, so that once it’s wrapped, I can put the note back on and you’ll know who it’s for.”

  “Right.” He took the pen she offered. “I forgot all about that.”

  “It’s okay. I have to remind everyone.”

  She looked like a carefree teenager this morning. She was wearing a festive snowman vest, and her hair was caught up in a high ponytail tied with a red-and-green plaid bow. She pushed her chair out for him to sit on.

  While Cole was writing names on notes, two students arrived to help with the wrapping. The boy, Jared, was tall and had a lot to say. He seemed a little smooth for his age, though he did jump right in and help without being asked. Amy, on the other hand, was shy-looking. She was carrying a can of pop and a bag from the bakery.

  “I brought old-fashioned glazed donuts for everyone,” she said, holding up the bag. “But I didn’t know what you’d want to drink.”

  “Taylor and I’ll get drinks for you before we go shopping,” Cole volunteered, the notes finally finished. “What do you want, Kara?”

  “A caramel mocha,” she replied, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. “With whipped cream, please. Jared?”

  “A double cap, skinny, dash of cinnamon,” Jared ordered without looking up from the package he wrapped. “And thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Cole took off with Taylor, thinking that when an eighth grade boy knew his way around a coffee bar, the world was growing too sophisticated for a simple cop with lowbrow tastes.

  Cole put a hand on Taylor’s shoulder as they made their way through the crowd.

  “Can we go see the train?” Taylor asked, pointing to a small locomotive making its way around an animated display of Santa’s workshop.

  “Let
’s get the coffee like I promised, then we’ll go check that out.”

  At the coffee bar, Cole placed the order, then headed to the far end of the counter to pick it up. When he turned to say something to Taylor, the boy was gone.

  Cole refused to be alarmed. Kids took off exploring all the time.

  He turned in the direction of the locomotive, sure he’d spot Taylor right away. But he wasn’t there.

  Cole scanned the long corridor of the mall. The shopping center now teemed with people, men, women and children rushing from store to store, up and down escalators. A child could become lost—or worse—so quickly.

  Fear, swift and powerful, surged through Cole. This was different from facing down a gun. That kind of situation kick-started your adrenaline and brought your training to the fore.

  This just brought cold, heavy dread.

  He did the only thing he could think of. He shouted “Taylor!” in a loud, authoritative voice.

  “Yeah?” Taylor asked.

  Cole looked down to see Taylor at his side. “Where did you come from?” Cole demanded, his voice a little raspy.

  “San Francisco,” Taylor replied seriously.

  All Cole’s internal alert systems settled down to normal. “I mean,” he corrected patiently, “where did you come from just now?”

  “I was right here,” Taylor replied a little anxiously, as though afraid he was in trouble. He pointed to a rack of pastries. “I was standing over there, looking at the brownies.”

  Enormously relieved, Cole realized he hadn’t asked Taylor if he wanted anything to eat. “Do you want one?”

  Taylor brightened. “Yeah, please.”

  “And a milk?”

  “Can I have cocoa?”

  “Sure.” He bought the brownie and cocoa and handed them to Taylor. “Stay with me, okay? Your mom wouldn’t like it if I lost you.”

  Taylor laughed as he took a giant bite of brownie. “She’d get in a blue snit,” he said, as soon as he could speak.

  Cole slowed his pace so that Taylor could keep up. “What’s a blue snit?”

  “It’s when she loses her temper and has to lock herself in her room so she won’t give me back to the junk man.”

  Cole laughed. “That doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

  They delivered the coffee, and Kara noticed the half-eaten brownie in Taylor’s hand.

  “Did you say thank you?” she asked her son.

  Taylor looked momentarily worried. “I think I did.”

  “You did,” Cole assured him. “Anything we can pick up for you while we’re shopping?” he asked Kara.

  She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m going to do my shopping next weekend when Jared’s mother can cover the wrapping for me.”

  “Okay, then.” He turned to Taylor, who had finished the brownie. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.” Taylor hurried to keep up with him as he started out for the Santa display.

  “You want to stand in line and tell Santa what you want?” Cole asked.

  Taylor looked up at him in surprise as he dodged a stroller. “No. I just want to see the train. It’s got this cool flatcar with all kinds of trucks on it.”

  “You sure you don’t want to see Santa?” Cole asked. “I don’t mind waiting.”

  Taylor stopped walking and stared up at Cole under the vaulted glass dome in the middle of the mall. His expression was very serious. “You know he isn’t real, right?”

  Cole struggled to remain just as serious. “Who? Santa?”

  “Yeah. All the Santas you see in stores aren’t really his helpers. They’re just people who act like Santa so little kids will believe.”

  Cole was surprised and a little disappointed in the boy’s conviction. “I thought he was real,” he argued.

  Taylor studied him uncertainly, then punched him in the arm. “No, you didn’t!”

  “Yes, I did,” Cole insisted. “Every Christmas I’ve gotten presents I wanted but didn’t ask for.”

  “That’s your mom,” Taylor confided.

  “I don’t have a mom.”

  “Then it’s your dad.”

  “He’s been gone since I was ten.”

  Taylor drew a breath. “There’s no Santa, Cole. Somebody who loves you is doing it. I bet it’s your aunt.”

  “Then…she’s acting like Santa, even though it isn’t her job. That’s all the real Santa does—gives you stuff to make you happy.”

  “But only if you’ve been good,” Taylor added, then apparently realizing he was being drawn into the myth, he sighed again. “At least, that’s how the story goes. Adults just use Santa to make you be good.”

  Cole wasn’t sure why it was important to him that this eight-year-old believe in Santa. Somehow it just seemed criminal that Taylor had a father who thought more of his scams than his son, and a mother who felt it necessary to lie about his father rather than say he was in jail. Taylor had been uprooted from his home and was having trouble making new friends. He should have something to believe in that would make this Christmas special.

  Cole put a hand on his shoulder and drew the boy closer. “Well, fortunately, I’ve been excellent this year. What about you?”

  Taylor nodded enthusiastically. “You have been excellent. You saved my mom’s life.” His expression grew troubled as they set off toward the train. “I haven’t been so good. Sometimes…sometimes I’m not very nice to Mom.”

  Should he be venturing into this territory? Cole wondered. But the child was confiding in him. It was hard to back away. “Why not?”

  “’Cause she made my dad go away.”

  Oh-oh. The unwritten rules were clear. He could listen, but he couldn’t offer an opinion. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because he’d come back if Mom let him. She used to yell at him a lot.”

  “Why do you suppose that was?”

  “I don’t know. Money, I think. Anyway, he joined the army. He’s somewhere safe. I think Germany. But he’s not coming back because Mom divorced him.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Some soldiers get to come home, but he doesn’t. That’s ’cause he’s doing something special. The army needs him all the time.”

  “I see.”

  They had reached the Santa display, and Taylor was instantly distracted by the action as the train clacked by, whistle blowing, glittery smoke billowing out, animated elves and reindeer waving from the passenger car windows. In one car, gifts were piled high; another was filled with candy canes and ribbon candy, and as Taylor had said, the flatcar carried a flamboyant collection of service trucks and a snowplow.

  Cole was grateful for the distraction. He didn’t have a clue how to advise Taylor. Then he remembered he didn’t have the right to try.

  They watched the train make several circuits, then Taylor turned to Cole, the grim expression gone from his face. “That was cool. You want to go to the toy store to find something for your neighbor?”

  “Yes. You seen enough of the train?”

  “Can we come back again? Before I have to help Mom?”

  “Sure.”

  They checked out the toy section of a department store, then two other toy stores before finding the Air Athletes that Blaine’s parents had said were on Blaine’s list. The toys were a type of transformer that could be turned from aircraft into sports heroes with the manipulation and addition of parts.

  Cole picked one up to examine it.

  “Not that one,” Taylor said, choosing another and handing it to him. “This one.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “The one you picked is a galaxy freighter that turns into a baseball player.”

  “Sounds cool.”

  Taylor looked at him as though he were to be pitied. He placed his hand on the box he’d given Cole. “This one’s a Gamma Quadrant patrol ship and turns into a quarterback!” That information imparted, he waited anxiously for Cole’s reaction.

  Cole wasn’t getting it. “And that’s better?”<
br />
  “Well, yeah. It patrols—it doesn’t just haul freight. And quarterbacks get more babes than baseball players.”

  Cole was momentarily stunned. That was a standard of choice for eight-year-olds?

  “How do you know that, if you don’t like sports?” he asked.

  “That’s what the kids at school say.”

  “Well, maybe guys believe that in school,” Cole disputed, tucking the box under his arm, “but in real life, I think Sammy Sosa does okay with women.”

  “Well, I like that one, and you said Blaine’s like me.”

  What better endorsement could he ask for? Cole thought.

  “Can you help me buy something for my mom?” Taylor asked as they left the shop after making the purchase.

  “Uh…sure. But I’m not much of an expert on what women like.”

  “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

  “Not at the moment, no.”

  “Did you ever have any?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had girlfriends,” Cole told him. “But no one special.”

  Taylor seemed pleased at the state of Cole’s love life, but his next words made Cole uneasy.

  “I’m glad my mom doesn’t have a boyfriend, ’cause I know my dad’s coming back someday.” Before Cole could say anything, Taylor pointed to a jewelry store. “Can we look in there?”

  “We can look,” Cole said, starting off in that direction, “but there might not be anything you can afford. There’s nothing in there I can afford, and I’ve got a job.”

  Taylor laughed and peered in the window at the sparkling gold and diamonds with large price tags.

  “Whoa!” Taylor exclaimed in mingled horror and amazement. “They’re sure pretty, though.”

  “I agree.” Cole spotted a kitchen shop farther down. “Since your mom likes to bake, what about something for the kitchen?”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m not sure. But you’ll probably know when you see it.”

  The Kitchen Cabinet was small but stuffed with everything imaginable for people who liked to cook.

  “Roosters!” Taylor exclaimed, heading toward a little nook where everything displayed had a rooster theme. “Mom loves roosters. She has them all over the kitchen.”

  His hands reached up to a pair of rooster candleholders. A tall green candle stood in each one. “She loves candles, too!” Taylor said, his eyes gleaming. He lifted one of the roosters to check under it for the price.