A Christmas Message

by Debbie Macomber

  No way!

  K.O. stopped dead in her tracks. She watched as Wynn Jeffries paused outside her condo building, her very own building, entered the code and strolled inside.

  Without checking for traffic, K.O. crossed the street again. A horn honked and brakes squealed, but she barely noticed. She was dumbfounded.

  Speechless.

  There had to be some mistake. Perhaps he was making a house call. No, that wasn’t right. What doctor made house calls in this day and age? What psychologist made house calls ever? Besides, he didn’t exactly look like the compassionate type. K.O. bit her lip and wondered when she’d become so cynical. It’d happened around the same time her sister read Dr. Jeffries’s book, she decided.

  The door had already closed before she got there. She entered her code and stepped inside just in time to see the elevator glide shut. Standing back, she watched the floor numbers flicker one after another.

  “Katherine?”

  K.O. whirled around to discover LaVonne Young, her neighbor and friend. LaVonne was the only person who called her Katherine. “What are you doing, dear?”

  K.O. pointed an accusing finger past the elegantly decorated lobby tree to the elevator.

  LaVonne stood in her doorway with her huge tomcat, named predictably enough, Tom, tucked under her arm. She wore a long shapeless dress that was typical of her wardrobe, and her long graying hair was drawn back in a bun. When K.O. had first met her, LaVonne had reminded her of the character Auntie Mame. She still did. “Something wrong with the elevator?” LaVonne asked.

  “No, I just saw a man...” K.O. glanced back and noticed that the elevator had gone all the way up to the penthouse suite. That shouldn’t really come as a shock. His book sales being what they were, he could easily afford the penthouse.

  LaVonne’s gaze followed hers. “That must be Dr. Jeffries.”

  “You know him?” K.O. didn’t bother to hide her interest. The more she learned, the better her chances of engaging him in conversation.

  “Of course I know Dr. Jeffries,” the retired accountant said. “I know everyone in the building.”

  “How long has he lived here?” K.O. demanded. She’d been in this building since the first week it was approved for occupation. So she should’ve run into him before now.

  “I believe he moved in soon after the place was renovated. In fact, the two of you moved in practically on the same day.”

  That was interesting. Of course, there was a world of difference between a penthouse suite and the first-floor, one-bedroom unit she owned. Or rather, that the bank owned and she made payments on. With the inheritance she’d received from her maternal grandparents, K.O. had put a down payment on the smallest, cheapest unit available. It was all she could afford at the time—and all she could afford now. She considered herself lucky to get in when she did.

  “His name is on the mailbox,” LaVonne said, gesturing across the lobby floor to the mailboxes.

  “As my sister would tell you, I’m a detail person.” It was just the obvious she missed.

  “He’s a celebrity, you know,” LaVonne whispered conspiratorially. “Especially since his book was published.”

  “Have you read it?” K.O. asked.

  “Well, no, dear, I haven’t, but then never having had children myself, I’m not too concerned with child-raising. However, I did hear Dr. Jeffries interviewed on the radio and he convinced me. His book is breaking all kinds of records. Apparently it’s on all the bestseller lists. So there must be something to what he says. In fact, the man on the radio called Dr. Jeffries the new Dr. Spock.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” Jeffries’s misguided gospel was spreading far and wide.

  LaVonne stared at her. “In case you’re interested, he’s not married.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” K.O. muttered. Only a man without a wife and children could possibly come up with such ludicrous ideas. He didn’t have a family of his own to test his theories on; instead he foisted them on unsuspecting parents like her sister, Zelda, and brother-in-law, Zach. The deterioration in the girls’ behavior was dramatic, but Zelda insisted this was normal as they adjusted to a new regimen. They’d “find their equilibrium,” she’d said, quoting the book. Zach, who worked long hours, didn’t really seem to notice. The twins’ misbehavior would have to be even more extreme to register on him.

  “Would you like me to introduce you?” LaVonne asked.

  “No,” K.O. responded immediately. Absolutely not. Well, maybe, but not now. And not for the reasons LaVonne thought.

  “Do you have time for tea?” LaVonne asked. “I wanted to tell you about the most recent class I attended. Fascinating stuff, just fascinating.” Since her retirement, LaVonne had been at loose ends and signed up for a variety of workshops and evening classes.

  “I learned how to unleash my psychic abilities.”

  “You’re psychic?” K.O. asked.

  “Yes, only I didn’t know it until I took this class. I’ve learned so much,” she said in wonder. “So much. All these years, my innate talent has lain there, unused and unfulfilled. It took this class to break it free and show me what I should’ve known all along. I can see into the future.” She spoke in a portentous whisper.

  “You learned this after one class?”

  “Madame Ozma claims I have been blessed with the sight. She warned me not to waste my talents any longer.”

  This did sound fascinating. Well...bizarre, anyway. K.O. would have loved to hear all about the class, but she really needed to start work. In addition to writing Christmas letters—which she did only in November and December—she was a medical transcriptionist by training. It paid the bills and had allowed her to put herself through college to obtain a public relations degree. Now she was searching for a job in PR, which wasn’t all that easy to find, even with her degree. She was picky, too. She wanted a job with a salary that would actually meet her expenses. Over the years she’d grown accustomed to a few luxuries, like regular meals and flush toilets.

  Currently her résumé was floating around town. Anytime now, she was bound to be offered the perfect job. And in the meanwhile, these Christmas letters gave her some useful practice in creating a positive spin on some unpromising situations—like poor Bill Mulcahy’s.

  “I’d love a cup of tea, but unfortunately I’ve got to get to work.”

  “Perhaps tomorrow,” LaVonne suggested.

  “That would be great.”

  “I’ll call upon my psychic powers and look into your future if you’d like.” She sounded completely serious.

  “Sure,” K.O. returned casually. Perhaps LaVonne could let her know when she’d find a job.

  LaVonne’s eyes brightened. “I’ll study my class notes and then I’ll tell you what I see for you.”

  “Thanks.” She reached over and scratched Tom’s ears. The big cat purred with pleasure.

  With a bounce in her step, LaVonne went into her condo, closing the door with a slam that shook her Christmas wreath, decorated with golden moons and silver stars. K.O. headed for her own undecorated door, which was across the hall. Much as she disapproved of her sister’s hero, she could hardly wait to tell Zelda the news.

  Chapter Two

  K.O. waited until she’d worked two hours straight before she phoned her sister. Zelda was a stay-at-home mom with Zoe and Zara, who were identical twins. Earlier in the year Zelda and Zach had purchased the girls each a dog. Two Yorkshire terriers, which the two girls had promptly named Zero and Zorro. K.O. called her sister’s home the Land of Z. Even now, she wasn’t sure how Zelda kept the girls straight, let alone the dogs. Even their barks sounded identical. Yap. Yap and yap with an occasional yip thrown in for variety, as if they sometimes grew bored with the sound of their own yapping.

  Zelda answered on the third ring, sounding frazzled and breathless. “Yes?” she sna
pped into the phone.

  “Is this a bad time?” K.O. asked.

  “Oh, hi.” The lack of enthusiasm was apparent. In addition to everything else, Dr. Jeffries’s theories had placed a strain on K.O.’s relations with her younger sister.

  “Merry Christmas to you, too,” K.O. said cheerfully. “Can you talk?”

  “Sure.”

  “The girls are napping?”

  “No,” Zelda muttered. “They decided they no longer need naps. Dr. Jeffries says on page 125 of his book that children should be allowed to sleep when, and only when, they decide they’re tired. Forcing them into regimented nap-and bedtimes, is in opposition to their biological natures.”

  “I see.” K.O. restrained the urge to argue. “Speaking of Dr. Jeffries...”

  “I know you don’t agree with his philosophy, but this is the way Zach and I have chosen to raise our daughters. When you have a family of your own, you can choose how best to parent your children.”

  “True, but...”

  “Sorry,” Zelda cried. It sounded as if she’d dropped the phone.

  In the background, K.O. could hear her sister shouting at the girls and the dogs. Her shouts were punctuated with the dogs’ yapping. A good five minutes passed before Zelda was back.

  “What happened?” K.O. asked, genuinely concerned.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “As I started to say, I saw Dr. Jeffries.”

  “On television?” Zelda asked, only half-interested.

  “No, in person.”

  “Where?” All at once she had Zelda’s attention.

  “On Blossom Street. You aren’t going to believe this, but he actually lives in my building.”

  “Dr. Jeffries? Get out of here!”

  Zelda was definitely interested now. “Wait—I heard he moved to Seattle just before his book was published.” She took a deep breath. “Wow! You really saw him?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Oh, my goodness, did you talk to him? Is he as handsome in person as he is in his photo?”

  Feeling about him the way she did, K.O. had to consider the question for a moment. “He’s fairly easy on the eyes.” That was an understatement but looks weren’t everything. To her mind, he seemed stiff and unapproachable. Distant, even.

  “Did you tell him that Zach and I both read his book and what a difference it’s made in our lives?”

  “No, but...”

  “K.O., could you... Would it be too much to get his autograph? Could you bring it on the fifteenth?”

  K.O. had agreed to spend the night with the twins while Zelda and Zach attended his company’s Christmas party. Her sister and brother-in-law had made arrangements to stay at a hotel downtown, just the two of them.

  “All the mothers at the preschool would die to have Dr. Jeffries’s autograph.”

  “I haven’t met him,” K.O. protested. It wasn’t like she had any desire to form a fan club for him, either.

  “But you just said he lives in your building.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure it’s him?”

  “It looks like him. Anyway, LaVonne said it was.”

  Zelda gave a small shout of excitement. “If LaVonne says it’s him, then it must be. How could you live in the same building as Dr. Jeffries and not know it?” her sister cried as though K.O. had somehow avoided this critical knowledge on purpose. “This is truly amazing. I’ve got to have his autograph.”

  “I’ll...see what I can do,” K.O. promised. This was not good. She’d hoped to find common ground with her sister, not become a...a go-between so Zelda could get her hero’s autograph. Some hero! K.O.’s views on just about everything having to do with parenting were diametrically opposed to those purveyed by Dr. Wynn Jeffries. She’d feel like a fraud if she asked for his autograph.

  “One more thing,” Zelda said when her excitement had died down. “I know we don’t agree on child-rearing techniques.”

  “That’s true, but I understand these are your daughters.” She took a deep breath. “How you raise them isn’t really any of my business.”

  “Exactly,” Zelda said emphatically. “Therefore, Zach and I want you to know we’ve decided to downplay Christmas this year.”

  “Downplay Christmas,” K.O. repeated, not sure what that meant.

  “We aren’t putting up a tree.”

  “No Christmas tree!” K.O. sputtered, doing a poor job of hiding her disapproval. She couldn’t imagine celebrating the holiday without decorating a tree. Her poor nieces would be deprived of a very important tradition.

  “I might allow a small potted one for the kitchen table.” Zelda seemed a bit doubtful herself. She should be doubtful, since a Christmas tree had always been part of their own family celebration. The fact that their parents had moved to Arizona was difficult enough. This year they’d decided to take a cruise in the South Pacific over Christmas and New Year’s. While K.O. was happy to see her mother and father enjoying their retirement, she missed them enormously.

  “Is this another of Dr. Jeffries’s ideas?” K.O. had read enough of his book—and heard more than enough about his theories—to suspect it was. Still, she could hardly fathom that even Wynn Jeffries would go this far. Outlaw Christmas? The man was a menace!

  “Dr. Jeffries believes that misleading children about Santa does them lasting psychological damage.”

  “The girls can’t have Santa, either?” This was cruel and unusual punishment. “Next you’ll be telling me that you’re doing away with the tooth fairy, too.”

  “Why, yes, of course. It’s the same principle.”

  K.O. knew better than to argue with her sister. “Getting back to Christmas...” she began.

  “Yes, Christmas. Like I said, Zach and I are planning to make it a low-key affair this year. Anything that involves Santa is out of the question.”

  Thankfully her sister was unable to see K.O. roll her eyes.

  “In fact, Dr. Jeffries has a chapter on the subject. It’s called ‘Bury Santa Under the Sleigh.’ Chapter eight.”

  “He wants to bury Santa Claus?” K.O. had heard enough. She’d personally bury Dr. Jeffries under a pile of plowed snow before she’d let him take Christmas away from Zoe and Zara. As far as she was concerned, his entire philosophy was unacceptable, but this no-Santa nonsense was too much. Here was where she drew her line in the snow—a line Wynn Jeffries had overstepped.

  “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said?” Zelda asked.

  “Unfortunately, I have.”

  Her doorbell chimed. “I need to go,” K.O. told her sister. She sighed. “I’ll see what I can do about that autograph.”

  “Yes, please,” Zelda said with unmistakable gratitude. “It would mean the world to me if you could get Dr. Jeffries’s autograph.”

  Sighing again, K.O. replaced the receiver and opened the door to find her neighbor LaVonne standing there. Although standing wasn’t exactly the right word. LaVonne was practically leaping up and down. “I’m sorry to bother you but I just couldn’t wait.”

  “Come in,” K.O. said.

  “I can’t stay but a minute,” the retired CPA insisted as she stepped over the threshold, clutching Tom. “I did it!” she exclaimed. “I saw the future.” She squealed with delight and did a small jig. “I saw the future of your love life, K.O. It happened when I went to change the kitty litter.”

  “The...kitty litter.” That was fitting, since it was where her love life happened to be at the moment. In some kind of toilet, anyway.

  “Tom had just finished his business,” LaVonne continued, gazing lovingly at her cat, “and there it was, plain as day.”

  “His business?” K.O. asked.

  “No, no, the future. You know how some people with the gift can read tea leaves? Well, it came to me in the kitty-litter box. I know
it sounds crazy but it’s true. It was right there in front of me,” she said. “You’re going to meet the man of your dreams.”

  “Really?” K.O. hated to sound so disappointed. “I don’t suppose you happened to see anything in the kitty litter about me finding a job?”

  LaVonne shook her head. “Sorry, no. Do you think I should go back and look again? It’s all in the way it’s arranged in the kitty litter,” she confided. “Just like tea leaves.”

  “Probably not.” K.O. didn’t want to be responsible for her neighbor sifting through Tom’s “business” any more than necessary.

  “I’ll concentrate on your job prospects next.”

  “Great.” K.O. was far more interested in locating full-time employment than falling in love. At twenty-eight she wasn’t in a rush, although it was admittedly time to start thinking about a serious relationship. Besides, working at home wasn’t conducive to meeting men. Zelda seemed to think that as a medical transcriptionist K.O. would meet any number of eligible physicians. That, however, hadn’t turned out to be the case. The only person in a white coat she’d encountered in the last six months had been her dentist, and he’d been more interested in looking at her X-rays than at her.

  “Before I forget,” LaVonne said, getting ready to leave. “I’d like you to come over tomorrow for cocktails and appetizers.”

  “Sure.” It wasn’t as if her social calendar was crowded. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll see you at six.” LaVonne let herself out.

  “Concentrate on seeing a job for me,” K.O. reminded her, sticking her head in the hallway. “The next time you empty the litter box, I mean.”

  LaVonne nodded. “I will,” she said. As she left, she was mumbling to herself, something K.O. couldn’t hear.