12 Naughty Days of Christmas 2018

by Isabella Kole

  Kelly hadn’t ever tried to teach them that. Dogs that walked on leashes were taught not to pull, and she wanted her dogs to pull a sled.

  But Zeb insisted that dogs were smart and knew the difference between a collar and leash, and a harness and ganglines. “I’ll bring two of my grandsons next time,” Zeb said. “That way we can get all the dogs involved.”

  “Thank you,” Maria said, with a shy smile. It had taken a little encouragement for her to try to walk one of the dogs, but once she started, she was a real trooper. Kelly had helped by giving her the oldest dog, Blue, who wasn’t as strong as the others.

  “We’re going over to the Sanchezes’ again for dinner,” Kelly announced, after Zeb had driven off.

  Jonathan really didn’t feel right about eating her food when Consuela had so little, but suspected it would help her feel better about accepting gifts from them, so he agreed, but only if they could run to the store first. He wasn’t going to go empty handed. He’d bring a gallon of milk, some dinner rolls, and a container of ice cream to add to the meal. Kelly was bringing something too. She handed a small box to Alberto to put in the back of the car, and another, smaller box to Maria.

  Minutes later Consuela was welcoming them into her home. The whole house smelled like Christmas. The tree was still wearing only the single string of lights and the six ornaments Jonathan had given the children. The air smelled of sugar and spice. Spice from whatever wonderful meal Consuela had prepared for them, and sugar from the batch of cookies cooling on the counter. The younger girls were busily frosting them, with splats of red and green frosting decorating their mouths, fingers, the fronts of their shirts, and even some of the floor. Maria pouted that she hadn’t been able to help, but Consuela reminded her that the younger girls hadn’t been able to go train dogs.

  They gathered around the kitchen table then, which wobbled when they put their hands together to pray. “And thank you, Lord, for these good people, who have been so kind to us,” Consuela said at the end.

  Jonathan squirmed. Any small kindness he had shown them, they’d returned tenfold.

  The conversation around the table was lively, but polite. The children didn’t interrupt, much. At one point the baby Mateo started to fuss. Alberto got up without being asked, and jiggled the little boy on his hip.

  Kelly held her hands out, begging to hold the infant. “Let me,” she pleaded. “I never get to hold a baby.”

  “Sure, you can have him!” Alberto exaggerated, as though he was glad to be rid of him, but Jonathan wasn’t fooled. Alberto adored his little brother.

  Kelly looked so beautiful cuddling the adorable baby. She cooed and whispered, catching the infant’s attention, as she stroked his arm, tapped the end of his nose, then kissed the top of his head. How nice it would be when it was his own child she held. Jonathan was startled by the turn his thoughts had taken. Then he smiled; it was a good thought, anyway.

  After dinner, he again insisted that he help Consuela with the dishes. Kelly couldn’t wash with her injured hand, but she helped to clear the table, then set out the materials she’d brought with her. It was all stuff she could have bought at Walmart. Square sheets of thin white paper. Children’s scissors. Tape, glue, glitter. Red and green construction paper. While he and Consuela cleaned up the dinner mess, Kelly and the children made a grand and glorious mess creating simple, homemade Christmas decorations.

  She showed them how to fold the paper again and again, then make small snips in the folded edges. When the paper was unfolded, beautiful snowflakes were revealed, which they made even more beautiful with the glitter. Later, the snowflakes were placed on the tree. Next, she taught them how to glue a strip of red paper into a loop. Then a piece of green was put through the red loop and glued together, to create a paper chain. Again, the varying lengths of paper chains were put on the tree. The last thing she did was have Consuela pop the bags of popcorn she’d brought, and the older kids were given needles and thread to string the popcorn, while the little girls were shuffled into the bathroom to take a bath.

  Kelly was right, Jonathan noted. She was meant to help people.

  Chapter 6

  December twenty-fourth finally came. Kelly couldn’t remember a time she’d anticipated Christmas more. She wasn’t expecting to get much. Her parents were retired and lived in a community in Texas. They sent cards and cash and their love. They kept in touch with phone calls, but she hadn’t had an actual gift from them in years. Of course, Jonathan might give her something, but he’d be the only one. No, she wasn’t excited about getting gifts at all, only about giving them. About making one special family feel the love of Christmas. She couldn’t wait to see what the patrons at O’Toole’s had chosen to give to the Sanchez family.

  Jonathan shook his head as he looked out the picture window. “That snow is really coming down,” he warned.

  “Of course it is. Snow usually comes down. It only goes up if there is a really strong wind.”

  “Maybe we should stay home. At least until the storm is over.”

  “Not a chance! If you’re worried about driving, we’ll walk over, but I am not making those children miss Christmas because of a little snow. Get real!”

  Jonathan brought her into his embrace and patted her bottom. “This is very real. This could be a really heavy snowfall. They predicted six to eight inches.”

  “Of lake effect snow, Jonathan. Didn’t you hear that part? Lake effect snow falls along the east shore of Lake Michigan, as far in as Highway 131. It doesn’t extend all the way to Kalamazoo.”

  “Well, we’ll go to O’Toole’s, but we’re going to keep an eye on the weather, and we are going to leave when I say so. Do I make myself clear?”

  “As a bell. Now, let’s go. I hope everyone has brought their gift by now.”

  “We only told them to bring it by December 24th,” Jonathan reminded her. “We didn’t specify a time.”

  “Still, we’ll have to have time to wrap them, and deliver them. So they better get there soon.”

  Jonathan took the box from her and carried it out to his car. She followed behind with more stuff. It looked like clear tape, ribbons, tissue paper, gift wrap. He hadn’t thought about all the gifts needing to be wrapped. That could take a while. His hope of getting back at a reasonable hour was fading swiftly.

  Kelly was warmly dressed in flannel-lined jeans, snow boots, and a bright Christmas sweater that had a reindeer on the front with a string of lights tangled in his antlers. The lights were real and blinked.

  Jonathan was also warmly dressed; Kelly had taken him shopping after the tree cutting disaster, and taught him how to dress for winter. He had on a pair of silk long underwear in men’s black, under his Dockers; also snow boots, and a sweater over a tee shirt under his winter jacket. Kelly had insisted that he wear layers, so he could put on or take off to remain comfortable without sweating or shivering. He had to admit that being warmly dressed made winter so much more enjoyable.

  His BMW swerved a little as he pulled through an intersection.

  “We should have taken my car,” Kelly said. “I have all-wheel drive.”

  “You’re probably right,” he admitted. “But we’re almost there.”

  O’Toole’s was really hopping tonight. The parking lot and the side streets were crowded, but Jonathan saw that a space up front had been saved just for him. Patrick himself was outside, directing traffic and shooing others away to keep the spot safe.

  “I figured you should be close, so you can haul all those gifts,” he announced.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that,” Jonathan said.

  Kelly hugged Patrick, landing a big kiss on his cheek. “Merry Christmas!” she called.

  “Merry Christmas, Kelly-girl,” he answered, kissing her forehead. “That was a grand idea you had, collecting for that family. I think the patrons have had more fun with that than fantasy football, for sure. You should see them in there, those big, tough bikers, cooing over the baby dolls they got for th
ose little girls. It’s a hoot!”

  Patrick held the door for them, rushing them inside. “Hey, all, they’re here!” he shouted.

  A cheer rose up, and some were slapping the bar counter instead of clapping.

  Kelly blushed prettily.

  Jonathan guessed she was embarrassed by all the attention. He knew he sure was. This was about helping the kids, not about him at all.

  “Look, Kelly, you’ve got to see this,” said one big man in a leather coat covered with silver studs. “Look, this baby doll says “mama” and comes with a baby bottle that looks like the milk goes away when you feed it! Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

  Kelly laughed. She’d had one just like it when she was a little girl. It wasn’t anything new, but then, if the biker hadn’t had any sisters, maybe he didn’t know that.

  “The doll I bought has several outfits,” another biker announced. “It even has a pair of dolly roller skates. And they work!”

  The tiny, naked Giving Tree was buried beneath the mountain of gifts including: four dolls, a truck for the baby, a basketball for Alberto, sweaters, sweatshirts with cute figures on front. Socks, underwear, jeans, skirts, dresses, dress pants. Kelly had only put one clothing item for each child on the mittens, but the benefactors had showered their chosen child with an entire new wardrobe.

  The personal items included things like bubble bath, necklaces, bracelets, a Star Wars theme desk lamp for Alberto, an activity blanket for the baby with an unbreakable mirror, squeaky toys and crinkle fabric.

  And the books, stacks of books! More than a single book or two per child – the Sanchezes would have their own library. Kelly saw familiar classics along with some newer titles she didn’t recognize. Easy readers, picture books, chapter books, board books and someone had even included a family Bible.

  But the absolute best gift of all… someone had placed a KitchenAid stand mixer under the tree.

  Kelly gulped, awed by their generosity. Those machines were around $300, depending on what sales were available, or what store she’d looked at. Who could have done that, and for a complete stranger? She went up to the machine and touched it.

  But the machine wasn’t new. It had a few marks on it – not many. It was like new, but gently used. Ah, that made sense. She couldn’t help but feel let down though. It would have been nice to give Consuela something shiny new to replace the machine her husband had pawned.

  “I got that myself,” Patrick said proudly. “What do you think?”

  “It’s… uh, very nice,” Kelly said.

  “I think she’ll be pleased.”

  Kelly nodded. She hoped he’d change the subject.

  But, he wouldn’t. “I could have bought her a new one, ya know, but I think she’ll like this better.”

  “You didn’t have to get her a new one,” Kelly said. “This is fine. I’m sure it will be fine, really.” She turned away, wondering why she felt like crying.

  “You see, when you told me that her husband had pawned it, I knew right then what I had to do. See, I bought this at a pawn shop last year for my wife. It wasn’t for Christmas or anything. I was just out and about, and saw this, and thought, well, maybe she’d like it. But I bought her a new one to replace this one. I think this might actually belong to your lady friend! I think this is her own KitchenAid.”

  Now the tears broke loose, but Kelly didn’t mind. She hugged Patrick, kissing him again and again. “She will love it! Oh, thank you, Patrick! Thank you!”

  “Aw, go on, now. You’ve a lot of wrapping to do before you can deliver all of this.” Patrick made a show of wiping her kisses off his cheek, but he was busting with joy.

  “Consuela told me that KitchenAid was a wedding gift from her parents,” Kelly explained, swiping away her tears. “She knew they couldn’t afford it, but they were so happy for her. Her husband had a small restaurant, and she was going to join him, baking and cooking up a storm. Instead, his restaurant failed. He was never quite the same after that, or so she said.”

  Patrick smiled. Then he produced a stack of boxes from behind the bar. “So you can wrap some things,” he said. “I’d better get back to work.”

  Jonathan had pushed several tables together, then helped a young server to wipe them down and dry them off. He spread several rolls of wrapping paper in the middle, then started with the first box, a train set for Alberto. “We better get started,” he called.

  Kelly bounced over, acting like one of her huskies, just as full of energy and enthusiasm. She hummed along with the Christmas music playing over the speakers. She had already shed her coat, and before long, off came the sweater as well. She wore a lacy white tee shirt underneath. Her cheeks were flushed, her smile full and genuine. She was absolutely the prettiest woman in town, and probably the kindest one too.

  Jonathan wrapped gift after gift, but the snow was still coming down, and the mountain of toys didn’t seem to be diminishing any. Eventually, the two bikers who had bought the baby dolls came over and offered to help. More tables were pushed together. Patrick’s wife made a run to Walmart to buy more wrapping supplies. He and Kelly were offered complimentary beer. He suggested she quit with one, at least until all the gifts were delivered. .00She readily agreed.

  Patrick turned the volume up when the weather report came on. A sheepish weatherman announced the storm had shifted, and was going to extend well beyond Highway 131, to hit all of Kalamazoo and maybe as far as Battle Creek. “So snuggle down tight and stay home tonight,” he announced, ending the broadcast.

  “We can’t quit yet,” Kelly pleaded. “Think of the kids!”

  “I am thinking of them. But I’m thinking of you too. We should take all this to your house at least.”

  “But we have all this help here,” she reasoned. “We’ll be done in no time. Just hang in there. Please?”

  Against his better judgment, Jonathan relented. “All right. We’ll stay another twenty minutes. Anything that isn’t wrapped by then, we’ll deliver unwrapped.”

  “Hey, that’s a good idea,” Kelly said. “I used to always get one gift unwrapped. Usually it was the biggest gift, something that was hard to wrap anyway. But every Christmas picture shows stacks and stacks of presents, and one toy for each of us.”

  Jonathan nodded at the bike. Luckily, whoever had gifted Alberto with a bike had paid to have it assembled. “That one stays unwrapped.”

  “And the baby dolls too. I always felt like the dolls were suffocating when people would wrap them.”

  Jonathan chuckled. The big bikers attached Christmas bows to the tops of the dolls’ heads, and pronounced them “done.”

  “What about the KitchenAid? It’s not like we have a box big enough anyway.”

  “I want it to be a surprise though,” Kelly said. “I know. Let’s put it in a black plastic bag until we get there, then I’ll bury it under all these gifts. Consuela probably won’t see it until later. That should work.”

  More patrons joined the wrapping marathon, and suddenly, they were done. Good thing, too, Jonathan had more than a few paper cuts. His fingers felt numb, and his feet were aching. He wanted nothing more than to take his girlfriend to bed, but they still had to deliver the gifts. At least all the children should be asleep by now, so they wouldn’t discover the surprise until morning, like a real Christmas miracle.

  The patrons helped to load the gifts into Jonathan’s car. Load after load. Some went in the trunk. The back seat. The front seat. There wasn’t any room for Kelly.

  “That’s okay,” she said brightly. “I’ll half ride, half walk Alberto’s bike there. You go on with the gifts. I’ll see you at the Sanchez house.”

  “You be careful,” he warned. “This is no weather to be bike riding, the snow is really coming down hard.”

  “You forget, Jonathan, that I grew up here. I know more about winter weather than you ever will. Of course, I’ll be careful. Now go!”

  Jonathan climbed in, sucking in his breath. Someone had
slid his seat forward to make more room for the gifts in the back. Kelly should be driving, he thought. But she was already half a block away. Alberto’s bike was shorter, like a dirt bike or mountain bike. She could sit on the seat and still touch the ground with both feet. She would pedal, then maintain her balance with both feet, slowly slogging through at least six inches of heavy, wet snow. She turned a corner, and he couldn’t see her any more.

  He shifted into reverse and eased his foot on the gas. The tires spun, but the car didn’t move. He tried again. Still spinning tires.

  “Rock it,” Patrick called from the doorway.

  There wasn’t much room to rock. If he moved forward more than a few inches, he’d hit the side of the building. Still, he took Patrick’s suggestion and put the car into gear. It wouldn’t go forward either. He tried reverse, then forward again. His car started to slip sideways, but wouldn’t make any progress. No wonder Santa used reindeer, cars were worthless in the snow.

  The entire band of bikers poured out of the pub. Together, they pushed and pulled and turned his little car around. They pushed it out of the snowy parking lot into the street, that had slightly less snow. A plow must have gone through sometime while they were wrapping presents.

  They waved and cheered as he made some headway down the street. He wished they would just volunteer to push him all the way to the Sanchezes’ house.

  The rear end swerved again, sliding to the side. He let off on the gas, steering into the spin as he’d been taught to do. The car straightened a little, barely missing a car parked on the side of the road. The light turned red at the corner, but he could see that no one was coming in any direction, so rather than trying to stop and sliding into a snowbank, he continued straight through the intersection.

  He slid again, and then again. This was ridiculous! No one should be out tonight. In fact, no one was. The streets were empty. Christmas lights shone from nearly every house. The streetlights stood like silent sentinels, their golden light suffused by the heavy snow. The ground lay covered in a thick white sheet. There were no tire tracks now to even show him where the road should be. There was a slight rise on either side, probably the curbs. Front lawns were frosted with snow. Cars, swings, fences, toys – everything was buried, like ghostly images of what had once been. He was momentarily disoriented. Nothing looked the same. Was he even on the right street?