Christmas Catch-Up VIII (River's End Ranch)

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Oh, that was great,” she said, getting herself under control. “When he came out and you screamed—”

  “You could hear that, huh?”

  “Pretty sure the whole neighborhood did. I think the point of being a Secret Santa is to be quiet and sneaky.”

  “Yeah, probably. I could use some more practice. Next year, let’s do three or four families. That was too much fun.”

  “Yeah, it was.” She threaded her fingers through his before he could reach for the ignition. “You really like those little boys, don’t you?”

  “I do. They’re scamps, but they’re cute scamps.”

  “I was just sitting here wondering if it’s time for us to start thinking about a family. Especially if we got some cute little boys like those.”

  Oz grinned and gave her hand a squeeze. “You know what, I like that idea a lot. Let’s make a family, Mrs. Burton.”

  Paislee and Logan

  (Paislee’s Path)

  Paislee’s breath caught as they turned the corner and drove down yet another beautifully decorated street. Logan, driving the car, chuckled. “You can roll down the window and stick your head out if it will help you see better,” he teased.

  “Not necessary, but I do love Christmas lights.” She turned and grinned at him. “Thanks for bringing me here, Logan. I know Boise’s a long way from River’s End Ranch, but when I saw these pictures online, I knew I had to come check it out for myself.”

  “Are you kidding? Getting to spend an entire day with you, no interruptions, no snow to shovel or plow? Where’s the downside to this?”

  “You’re a good sport.” She turned back to the window. “Oh, look at that house!”

  They drove all around town for at least an hour, following a string of cars that all seemed to be doing the same thing. No one was in a rush, no one was trying to get ahead of the others—it was perfect. She reached down and flipped on the radio, finding a station that played classic Christmas music.

  “When I was growing up, we had a next-door neighbor lady who had the biggest crush on Bing Crosby,” Paislee said, smiling as the memory came back to her. “She had every one of his albums, and she played them over and over again on an ancient record player in the corner of her living room. At Christmastime, we’d take her over a plate of cookies, and then we’d sit down and listen to Bing’s Christmas album together. That’s what comes to my mind whenever people start talking about Christmas traditions.”

  “So, which is better—Holiday Inn or White Christmas?” Logan asked as he turned onto the next street.

  “I love them both—I don’t think you have to have a favorite,” she replied.

  “Oh, don’t say that around my aunts. That’s a hot topic of debate for them—we’ve even discussed building a fight cage so they can have it out once and for all.”

  Paislee laughed. “Remind me not to bring it up, then.”

  The line of cars seemed to slow down and even stop, and Paislee craned her neck to see what was going on. “It looks like there’s a program or something going on at that church,” she said. “Should we get out and take a look?”

  “Sure.” Logan maneuvered the car a bit until they found a parking spot, then they both wrapped their scarves tighter as they stepped into the frigid air. It was colder up at River’s End Ranch, but the wind here in Boise had more of a bite to it. Logan reached out and took Paislee’s hand, and she was more than happy to tuck her fingers into his. Even with gloves on, she knew she’d be frozen within minutes.

  They walked along the curb until they made out a live nativity taking place in front of the church. The crowds had blocked Paislee’s view before, but now she could see donkeys, sheep, and even a camel, each watched over by people dressed in costume to represent the culture of the Holy Land. “Sure hope they don’t have a goat here,” Logan said, keeping his voice low, and Paislee tried not to laugh. Billy the Goat was famous for his antics back at the ranch, and she could only imagine what havoc he’d wreak in a place like this where the atmosphere was supposed to be reverent.

  The stable that had been constructed to house the nativity blocked some of the wind, but Paislee could tell that the actors were getting quite cold, and she was glad to see that they were using a doll for Baby Jesus rather than an actual child. She took a moment to contemplate, feeling grateful for the season and for the gifts that had come into her life because of it, and then it was time for the crowd to move on and allow the next group the same chance.

  Up ahead, they heard bells ringing, and she caught sight of a line of children. “I bet Santa’s up there,” Logan said. “Come on—let’s go.”

  Paislee’s feet were almost too numb to move quickly, but she followed him anyway, wanting to keep up.

  When they reached the little house where Santa was taking requests from the children, Paislee immediately spotted a concession stand with donuts and hot chocolate. “You hold our place in line, and I’ll go get us some,” Logan said, nodding toward the food.

  “You want to stand in line to see Santa?”

  “Sure. Don’t you?”

  Paislee wasn’t sure what to think of that. She hadn’t sat on Santa’s lap since she was about ten, but if Logan wanted to do it, she guessed it wouldn’t kill her. “Sure. But be quick with the hot chocolate, okay? I might freeze in place right here and then where would you be?”

  He grinned. “Okay. Be right back.”

  As she moved forward with the line, she overheard snippets of the conversations that were being held around her.

  “Well, I already have all the Barbies I want, so I think I’ll ask for Pomsies,” one little girl was saying very seriously.

  “I don’t want that silly girl stuff. I want Grumblies,” said her brother.

  Paislee noticed that the little boy right in front of her wasn’t joining in the conversation. “What about you?” she asked him.

  “I just want my dad to get a job,” he mumbled, not looking at her.

  Oh, great. Right there in the middle of Santaland, Paislee was going to have a Christmas Shoes moment. She blinked rapidly. If she cried, the tears would freeze her eyelashes together, and then she’d be blind. She could not let that happen.

  Logan came back just then and handed her a hot chocolate and a little bag of powdered donuts. She took them absently, and he asked what was bothering her.

  “Nothing. Well, yeah—lots of things. Like poverty and war and inequality—no big deal.” She spoke wryly. “The usual Christmas topics.”

  “The holidays do make us think about stuff like that. Maybe it’s so we can be more aware of it around us and make a difference in our own ways.”

  She handed him back the hot chocolate so her hand would be free, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. Then as the line moved forward, she tossed it on the ground.

  “Hey,” she said, nudging the boy in front of her. “Is that yours?” She pointed at the money.

  “No,” he replied, looking confused.

  “Well, I totally think I saw it fall out of your pocket, so it must be yours.”

  He looked at her, then tilted his head to the side. “Are you trying to give me money in a sneaky way?”

  Busted. “Um, yes, maybe?”

  He smiled. “Thanks, lady. You’re really nice.” He paused. “Are you sure you don’t need it? Because I don’t want to take it if you need it too.”

  She bent down, picked it up, and handed it to him. “You know what? Whenever I do something nice for someone else, it’s like I’m blessed extra, and I never even miss the thing I gave away.”

  “Well, thanks, lady. I’ll give this to my mom, and she’ll know what to use it for.”

  Paislee nodded, feeling those dang tears starting to build up again. “Smart kid,” she whispered to Logan.

  “Yeah.” She thought she saw his eyes glistening a little bit too.

  The line moved again, and thankfully, it wound through an area that was shielded on both sides by small sh
acks that were meant to look like a Victorian village. It was a little warmer there, and Paislee thought she might actually be able to feel her feet again.

  Logan took her empty cup and donut sack and tossed all their trash into a nearby can, then joined her in line again. “What do you want for Christmas?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  “Nothing anyone can really give me,” she replied. “I want all the standards—world peace, an end to hunger. All the impossible stuff.”

  “You gave that little boy a bit of peace tonight,” Logan said, nodding ahead in line. “Because of you, he knows there’s good in the world—I don’t think it’s impossible.”

  “One person at a time?” She looked up into his eyes. She loved those eyes—they were the kindest she’d ever seen.

  “One person at a time. That’s how things change anyway.”

  She snuggled into his arms and laid her head on his chest. “You’re right. I just want to fix everything right now.”

  A few minutes later, it was their turn, and Logan clasped her hand as they approached the Jolly Old Elf himself.

  “Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas,” Santa said. “You two are a little older than my usual visitors. What can I do for you tonight? What do the mid-twenties want for Christmas this year?”

  Logan looked at Paislee, then back at Santa. “She’d like world peace.”

  “Ah, yes. I’ve been working on that one for a long time.” Santa seemed thoughtful. “The tricky thing about world peace is that I can’t change the hearts of men. That’s a decision every person has to make for themselves. So yes, there are some things that even Santa can’t do.”

  “That’s all right, Santa,” Paislee said, touched by how seriously this man was taking the question. “You help make it possible to feel joy, and that’s a step on the right path.”

  He nodded, smiling. “So true. Now, what else do you want? Surely there’s something I can do.”

  Logan grinned. “Yes, there is. You see, we got engaged a while ago—right after we met, actually—and we decided that we wouldn’t set the date right away because we wanted to get to know each other better first. And you know what I found out?”

  “What’s that?” Santa asked, looking genuinely interested.

  “I found out that this woman is everything I thought she was, and even more. She’s more beautiful, more caring, more compassionate, more intelligent, and I’m ready now to set a date.”

  Paislee blinked. That wasn’t at all what she was expecting.

  Logan went down on one knee and took her hand. “I’ve already proposed and you already have the ring, but Paislee, will you now make me the happiest man all over again and set a wedding date? I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side, and I can’t wait for that life to begin.”

  “March third,” she said, not even pulling out her calendar to see if she was free that day or what day of the week it was. That was the date that popped into her head, and it was just as good as any other.

  “March third?”

  “March third.”

  Logan came to his feet and wrapped his arms around her while the group behind them in line cheered. “We’re getting married!” he announced, and Paislee laughed.

  Santa clapped his white-gloved hands, laughing merrily. “Now that’s what I call a Merry Christmas,” he said. “And a Happy New Year.”

  “And God bless us all, every one,” Logan replied, sending Santa into another peal of laughter.

  Kerry and Jamal

  (Pet Peeves)

  “Kerry? Kerry, where are you?”

  Kerry sat bolt upright. She’d been sleeping pretty deeply, but part of her brain was always attuned to her mother’s voice, and she was swinging her legs over the side of her bed before she was even fully aware that she was moving. “Coming, Mom,” she called out.

  Jamal stirred next to her. “Need anything?” he mumbled.

  “I don’t know yet—go back to sleep.”

  Rue had seemed weaker over the last few weeks, and she’d even stopped going to see Jaclyn as often. She used to spend an hour or two every day there, but it had been over a week since her last visit. Kerry and Jamal had spent many late nights talking about what it could all mean. Kerry wasn’t ready to lose her mother, but there were so many things in life that couldn’t be controlled.

  Kerry stepped into her mother’s room and was surprised to see her sitting up in bed. The miniature Christmas tree they’d brought in for her was shining brightly in the corner, all silver and red and sparkly, and it made Kerry smile to see it. “Hey, Mom. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Rue said. “But I wanted to talk to you.”

  Kerry tried to hold back her yawn. She’d never begrudge the chance to talk to her mother in one of her clear moments, but three o’clock in the morning was a challenge. “Sure. What about?”

  Rue motioned toward the closet. “Can you get my box of letters?”

  Kerry reached up on the shelf and brought down a carved wooden box that housed Rue’s most prized possessions, including letters from dear friends that had been written to her over the years. She couldn’t imagine why Rue would want them so badly at this time of night, but with dementia, very little followed the rules of logic.

  She set the box next to her mother on the bed, and Rue’s hands shook a little as she lifted the lid. “I want to show you something,” she said, moving the letters aside. Kerry thought she’d already seen the contents of the box, so she was surprised when Rue lifted out a string of brightly colored beads.

  “These belonged to my mother,” Rue said, holding them out so Kerry could see them.

  Kerry cupped her hands, and Rue lowered the beads into them. They felt cool and smooth to the touch, worn in places like they’d been handled many times. “They’re beautiful,” she said, studying them closely. “What are they made of?”

  “Paper,” Rue replied. “Scraps of paper no one wanted anymore. The women would cut the paper and wind it up tightly on a stick, glue it into shape, and then paint it when it was dry.”

  “Wow. I can’t believe how well this has held up. Did your mother make these?”

  “Yes, she did. She loved pretty things, but she didn’t have the money for them, so she made them. Later, when she left Uganda and came to the United States, she was able to afford more of the things she loved, but she never lost her knack for creating them.”

  “I remember that she always wore a bright necklace or dangling earrings—sometimes both,” Kerry said. Her grandmother had died when she was quite young, but some memories still remained.

  “Yes. She said that strong colors reminded her to be strong.” Rue closed Kerry’s hands around the beads and squeezed them. “You have a long tradition of strong women in your line, Kerry. I want you to keep these beads as a reminder of that. Strength, perseverance, courage—these things are in your blood.”

  Rue spoke fiercely, bravely, showing energy Kerry hadn’t seen from her in months. Then she leaned back against her pillows and took a deep breath. “It’s almost Christmas, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”

  “A good time for fresh starts.”

  Kerry had no idea what her mother meant by that. She watched carefully as Rue drifted off to sleep, watched for the rise and fall of her chest. Then she looked again at the beads in her hand. Nothing but paper, glue, and paint, and yet they’d held up for years. Simple things coming together to create items that time could not erode. There was so much to consider in that.

  She pulled the blankets up a little closer around her mother’s shoulders and turned off the light, leaving the tree softly glowing in the corner. Then she propped the door open and returned to her room.

  “Is everything all right?” Jamal asked, sounding wide awake. Chances were, he hadn’t obeyed when she told him to go back to sleep.

  She put the beads in the top drawer of her jewelry box, then climbed into bed. He wrapped his arms around her and snuggled her
in close.

  “I don’t think we have much time left with her,” Kerry replied, feeling very small. “She talked to me for a little while—we haven’t talked like that in a long time. It was like her mind had never been sick at all. It was wonderful to see her look so . . . in the moment, not wandering around in her own little world.”

  “I’ve read about that, especially in dementia patients. They sometimes have moments of clarity toward the end. It’s a blessing for their families, and for them too, I imagine.”

  Kerry nodded. “She wanted me to remember that I come from a long line of strong women. It’s like she’s preparing me for her death.”

  “And if she is?” Jamal asked softly. “Are you ready for that?”

  “No. Not at all. But I think she’s ready, and it really doesn’t matter what I think.” Kerry rolled over and burrowed her head in Jamal’s chest. “No matter how strong I am, no matter what courage runs through my veins, that’s going to be a very difficult day.”

  “I know I’m a poor substitute, but I’ll be right here every minute.”

  Kerry lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “And that means the absolute world to me. You’re not a poor substitute—you’re my everything.”

  Author’s Note: There are several places where you can purchase paper bead jewelry and help the women of Uganda provide for their families. Here are just two—Mzuri Beads and Project Have Hope.

  Andie and Zack

  (Karaoke Kisses)

  Zack lifted the heavy crate of mistletoe from the back of Wyatt’s truck and set it on the ground, then turned to take the bundle of pine boughs that was next to be unloaded. Pastor Kevin would be decorating the church with the boughs that afternoon so it would be ready for the Christmas Eve service that night, and the mistletoe had been Kelsi’s idea.

  “This is fantastic,” Kevin called up to Wyatt, who had climbed into the bed of the truck to scoot the branches out. “I feel bad that I wasn’t there to help bring it down the mountain.”