A Christmas Message

by Debbie Macomber

  “No, and this came from someone who chose the name Moon Puppy for himself. Mom liked to be called Daffodil. Her given name was Mary, which she’d rejected, along with her parents’ values.”

  “But you—”

  “My grandparents were the ones who saw to it that I stayed in school. They’re the ones who paid for my education. Both of them died when I was a college senior, but they were the only stable influence I had.”

  “What you need while your father is here,” K.O. said, “is someone to run interference. Someone who can act as a buffer between you and your father, and that someone is me.”

  Wynn didn’t look convinced.

  “I want to help,” she insisted. “Really.”

  He still didn’t look convinced.

  “Oh, and before I forget, my sister left three messages on my phone. She wants your autograph in the worst way. I thought you could sign her copy of The Free Child next Friday when—” It suddenly occurred to her that if Wynn’s father was visiting, he wouldn’t be able to watch the twins with her. “Oh, no,” she whispered, unable to hide her disappointment.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I—You’ll have company, so Friday night is out.” She put on a brave smile. She didn’t actually need his help, but this was an opportunity to spend time with him—and to prove that his theories didn’t translate into practice. She might be wrong, in which case she’d acknowledge the validity of his Free Child approach, but she doubted it.

  Wynn met her eyes. “I’m not going to break my commitment. I’ll explain to my father that I’ve got a previous engagement. He doesn’t have any choice but to accept it, especially since he didn’t give me any notice.”

  “When does he arrive?” K.O. asked. She savored another piece of her muffin, trying to guess which spices Alix had used.

  “At four-thirty,” Wynn said glumly.

  “It’s going to work out fine.” That was almost identical to what she’d told LaVonne earlier that morning.

  Then it hit her.

  LaVonne needed a man in her life.

  Wynn was looking for some way to occupy his father.

  “Oh, my goodness.” K.O. stood and stared down at Wynn with both hands on the edge of the table.

  “What?”

  “Wynn, I have the perfect solution!”

  He eyed her skeptically.

  “LaVonne,” she said, sitting down again. She was so sure her plan would work, she felt a little shiver of delight. “You’re going to introduce your father to LaVonne!”

  He frowned at her and shook his head. “If you’re thinking what I suspect you’re thinking, I can tell you right now it won’t work.”

  “Yes, it will! LaVonne needs to find a man before her college reunion in June. She’d—”

  “Katherine, I appreciate the thought, but can you honestly see LaVonne getting involved with an ex-hippie who isn’t all that ex—and is also the producer of Max’s Waxes?”

  “Of course I can,” she said, refusing to allow him to thwart her plan. “Besides, it isn’t up to us. All we have to do is introduce the two of them, step back and let nature take its course.”

  Wynn clearly still had doubts.

  “It won’t hurt to try.”

  “I guess not...”

  “This is what I’ll do,” she said, feeling inspired. She couldn’t understand Wynn’s hesitation. “I’ll invite your father and LaVonne to my place for Christmas cocktails.”

  Wynn crossed his arms. “This is beginning to sound familiar.”

  “It should.” She stifled a giggle. Turnabout was fair play, after all.

  “Maybe we should look at the olives in the martinis and tell them we got a psychic reading,” Wynn joked.

  “Oh, that’s good,” K.O. said with a giggle. “A drink or two should relax them both,” she added.

  “And then you and I can conveniently leave for dinner or a movie.”

  “No...no,” K.O. said, excitedly. “Oh, Wynn this is ideal! We’ll arrange a dinner for them.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know.” He was worrying about details too much. “We’ll think of someplace special.”

  “I wonder if I can reach Chef Jerome and get a reservation there,” Wynn murmured.

  K.O. gulped. “I can’t afford that.”

  “Not to worry. My father can.”

  “That’s even better.” K.O. felt inordinately pleased with herself. All the pieces were falling into place. Wynn would have someone to keep his father occupied until Christmas, and LaVonne might find a potential date for her class reunion.

  “What are your plans for today?” Wynn asked, changing the subject.

  “I’m meeting Vickie and a couple of other friends for shopping and lunch. What about you?”

  “I’m headed to the gym and then the office. I don’t usually work on weekends, but I’m writing a follow-up book.” He spoke hesitantly as if he wasn’t sure he should mention it.

  “Okay.” She smiled as enthusiastically as she could. “Would you like me to go to the airport with you when you pick up your father?”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Of course! In fact, I’d enjoy it.”

  “Thank you, then. I’d appreciate it.”

  They set up a time on Sunday afternoon and went their separate ways.

  K.O. started walking down to Pacific Place, the mall where she’d agreed to meet Vickie and Diane, when her cell phone rang. It was Wynn.

  “What day?” he asked. “I want to get this cocktail party idea of yours on my schedule.”

  “When would you suggest?”

  “I don’t think we should wait too long.”

  “I agree.”

  “Would Monday evening work for you?”

  “Definitely. I’ll put together a few appetizers and make some spiked eggnog. I’ll pick up some wine—and gin for martinis, if you want.” She smiled, recalling his comment about receiving a “psychic” message from the olives.

  “Let me bring the wine. Anything else?”

  “Could you buy a cat treat or two? That’s in case LaVonne brings Tom or one of her other cats. I want her to concentrate on Moon Puppy, not kitty.”

  Wynn laughed. “You got it. I’ll put in a call to Chef Jerome, although I don’t hold out much hope. Still, maybe he’ll say yes because it’s LaVonne.”

  “All we can do is try. And there are certainly other nice places.”

  Wynn seemed reluctant to end the conversation. “Katherine.”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you. Hearing my father’s message after such a lovely evening put a damper on my Christmas.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Have fun today.”

  “You, too.” She closed her cell and set it back in her purse. Her step seemed to have an extra bounce as she hurried to meet her friends.

  Chapter Ten

  Saturday afternoon, just back from shopping, K.O. stopped at LaVonne’s condo. She rang the doorbell and waited. It took her neighbor an unusually long time to answer; when she did, LaVonne looked dreadful. Her hair was disheveled, and she’d obviously been napping—with at least one cat curled up next to her, since her dark-red sweatshirt was covered in cat hair.

  “Why the gloomy face?” K.O. asked. “It’s almost Christmas.”

  “I know,” her friend lamented.

  “Well, cheer up. I have great news.”

  “You’d better come inside,” LaVonne said without any real enthusiasm. She gestured toward the sofa, although it seemed to require all the energy she possessed just to lift her arm. “Sit down if you want.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to hear my good news?”

  LaVonne shrugged her shoulders. “I guess.”

  “It has to do with you.”

&n
bsp; “Me?”

  “Yup. I met Vickie and Diane at Pacific Place, and we had lunch at this wonderful Italian restaurant.”

  LaVonne sat across from her, and Martin automatically jumped into her lap. Tom got up on the chair, too, and leisurely stretched out across the arm. She petted both cats with equal fondness.

  “I ordered the minestrone soup,” K.O. went on to tell her, maintaining her exuberance. “That was when it happened.” She’d worked out this plan on her way home, inspired by Wynn’s joke about the olives.

  “What?”

  “I had a psychic impression. Isn’t that what you call it? Right there with my two friends in the middle of an Italian restaurant.” She paused. “It had to do with romance.”

  “Really?” LaVonne perked up, but only a little.

  “It was in the soup.”

  “The veggies?”

  “No, the crackers,” K.O. said and hoped she wasn’t carrying this too far. “I crumbled them in the soup and—”

  “What did you see?” Then, before K.O. could answer, LaVonne held out one hand. “No, don’t tell me, let me guess. It’s about you and Wynn,” her neighbor said. “It must be.”

  “No...no. Remember how you told me you don’t have the sight when it comes to yourself? Well, apparently I don’t, either.”

  LaVonne looked up from petting her two cats. Her gaze narrowed. “What did you see, then?”

  “Like I said, it was about you,” K.O. said, doing her best to sound excited. “You’re going to meet the man of your dreams.”

  “I am?” She took a moment to consider this before her shoulders drooped once more.

  “Yes, you! I saw it plain as anything.”

  “Human or feline?” LaVonne asked in a skeptical voice.

  “Human,” K.O. announced triumphantly.

  “When?”

  “The crackers didn’t say exactly, but I felt it must be soon.” K.O. didn’t want to tell LaVonne too much, otherwise she’d ruin the whole thing. If she went overboard on the details, her friend would suspect K.O. was setting her up. She needed to be vague, but still implant the idea.

  “I haven’t left my condo all day,” LaVonne mumbled, “and I don’t plan to go out anytime in the near future. In fact, the way I feel right now, I’m going to be holed up in here all winter.”

  “You’re overreacting.”

  Her neighbor studied her closely. “Katherine, you really saw something in the soup?”

  “I did.” Nothing psychic, but she wasn’t admitting that. She’d seen elbow macaroni and kidney beans and, of course, the cracker crumbs.

  “But you didn’t take the class. How were you able to discover your psychic powers if you weren’t there to hear the lecture from Madam Ozma?” she wanted to know.

  K.O. crossed her fingers behind her back. “It must’ve rubbed off from spending all that time with you.”

  “You think so?” LaVonne asked hopefully.

  “Sure.” K.O. was beginning to feel bad about misleading her friend. She’d hoped to mention the invitation for Monday night, but it would be too obvious if she did so now.

  “There might be something to it,” LaVonne said, smiling for the first time. “You never know.”

  “True...one never knows.”

  “Look what happened with you and Wynn,” LaVonne said with a glimmer of excitement. “The minute I saw those two raisins gravitate toward each other, I knew it held meaning.”

  “I could see that in the crackers, too.”

  This was beginning to sound like a church revival meeting. Any minute, she thought, LaVonne might stand up and shout Yes, I believe!

  “Then Wynn met you,” she burbled on, “and the instant he did, I saw the look in his eyes.”

  What her neighbor had seen was horror. LaVonne couldn’t have known about their confrontation earlier that day. He’d clearly been shocked and, yes, horrified to run into K.O. again. Especially with the memory of her ranting in the café so fresh in his mind.

  “You’re right,” LaVonne said and sat up straighter. “I shouldn’t let a silly letter upset me.”

  “Right. And really, you don’t even know how much of what your college friend wrote is strictly true.” K.O. remembered the letter she’d written for Bill Mulcahy. Not exactly lies, but not the whole truth, either.

  “That could be,” LaVonne murmured, but she didn’t seem convinced. “Anyway, I know better than to look to a man for happiness.” LaVonne was sounding more like her old self. “Happiness comes from within, isn’t that right, Martin?” she asked, holding her cat up. Martin dangled from her grasp, mewing plaintively. “I don’t need a man to be complete, do I?”

  K.O. stood up, gathering her packages as she did. Toys and books for the twins, wrapping paper, a jar of specialty olives.

  “Thanks for stopping by,” LaVonne said when K.O. started toward the door. “I feel a hundred percent better already.”

  “Keep your eyes open now,” she told LaVonne. “The man in the soup could be right around the corner.” Or on the top floor of their condo building, she added silently.

  “I will,” her neighbor promised and, still clutching Martin, she shut the door.

  * * *

  Sunday afternoon Wynn came to K.O.’s door at three, his expression morose.

  “Cheer up,” she urged. “Just how bad can it be?”

  “Wait until you meet Moon Puppy. Then you’ll know.”

  “Come on, is your father really that bad?”

  Wynn sighed deeply. “I suppose not. He’s lonely without my mother. At loose ends.”

  “That’s good.” She paused, hearing what she’d said. “It’s not good that he’s lonely, but... Well, you know what I mean.” LaVonne might seem all the more attractive to him if he craved female companionship. LaVonne deserved someone who needed her, who would appreciate her and her cats and her...psychic talents.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “Let me grab my coat.”

  “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “Wynn, I’m happy to,” she assured him, and she meant it.

  The airport traffic was snarled, and it took two turns through the short-term parking garage to find an available space. Thankfully they’d allotted plenty of time.

  Wynn had agreed to meet his father at baggage claim. No more than five minutes after they’d staked out a place near the luggage carousel, a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt, with long dark hair tied in a ponytail, walked toward them. He didn’t have a jacket or coat.

  K.O. felt Wynn stiffen.

  “Wynn!” The man hurried forward.

  Wynn met his father halfway, with K.O. trailing behind, and briefly hugged him. “Hello, Dad.” He put his hand on K.O.’s shoulder. “This is my friend Katherine O’Connor. Katherine, this is my father, Moon Puppy Jeffries.”

  Moon Puppy winced. “Delighted to meet you, Katherine,” he said politely. “But please, call me Max. I don’t go by Moon Puppy anymore.”

  “Welcome to Seattle,” K.O. said, shaking hands. “I’m sorry you didn’t arrive to sunshine and warmer weather.”

  “Thank you. Don’t worry, I’ve got a jacket in my bag.”

  In a few minutes Max had collected his suitcase and Wynn led the way to his car. “It’s been unseasonably chilly,” K.O. said, making small talk as they took the escalator to the parking garage. Max had retrieved his jacket by then.

  At the car, Wynn took the suitcase from his father and stored it in the trunk. This gave K.O. an opportunity to study father and son. She glanced at Wynn and then back at his father. After the description Wynn had given her, she’d expected something quite different. Yes, Max Jeffries looked like an old hippie, as Wynn had said, but his hair was neatly trimmed and combed. He wore clean, pressed clothes and had impeccable manners. He was an older version of Wynn an
d just as respectable looking, she thought. Well, except for the hair.

  “It was a surprise to hear you were coming for Christmas,” Wynn commented when he got into the car.

  “I figured it would be,” his father said. “I didn’t mention it earlier because I was afraid you’d find a convenient excuse for me not to come.”

  So Max Jeffries was direct and honest, too. A lot like his son. K.O. liked him even more.

  They chatted on the ride into Seattle, and K.O. casually invited him for cocktails the following afternoon.

  “I’d enjoy that,” Wynn’s father told her.

  “Katherine wants to introduce you to her neighbor, LaVonne.”

  “I see,” Max said with less enthusiasm and quickly changed the subject. “I understand your book is selling nicely.”

  “Yes, I’m fortunate to have a lot of publisher support.”

  “He’s writing a second book,” K.O. said, joining the conversation. It pleased her that Max seemed proud of his son.

  “So, how long have you two been seeing each other?” Max asked, looking at K.O.

  “Not long,” Wynn answered for them. His gaze caught K.O.’s in the rearview mirror. “We met through a psychic,” he said.

  “We most certainly did not.” K.O. was about to argue when she realized Wynn was smiling. “We actually met through a mutual friend who believes she has psychic powers,” she explained, not telling Max that her neighbor and this “psychic” were one and the same.

  As they exited off the freeway and headed into downtown Seattle and toward Blossom Street, Max said, “I had no idea Seattle was this beautiful.”

  “Oh, just wait until nighttime,” K.O. told him. It was fast becoming dark, and city lights had begun to sparkle. “There’s lots to do at night. Wynn and I took a horse-drawn carriage ride last week and then on Friday night we went on a merry-go-round.”

  “My first such experience,” Wynn said, a smile quivering at the edges of his mouth.

  “Your mother and I never took you?” Max sounded incredulous.

  “Never.”

  “I know I had some failings as a father,” Max said despondently.

  “Not getting to ride on a merry-go-round isn’t exactly a big deal, Dad. Don’t worry about it,” Wynn muttered.