My Sunshine

by Catherine Anderson

  Isaiah stifled another huge yawn. “Laura and I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “Uh-oh. Trouble with the puppies?”

  He tried to bite back a smile, but failed. “No, other stuff.”

  Belinda busied herself straightening the instruments. After a long moment she said, “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  Isaiah started to deny it, but then decided it was pointless. He did have a life apart from the clinic, and from now on Laura was going to be a big part of it. He wouldn’t be able to hide that fact, and he wasn’t inclined to try.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “I’m very much in love with her.”

  Belinda smiled. “I’m so glad for you, Isaiah. If any guy on earth deserves to be happy, it has to be you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And I adore Laura,” she added. “But then, don’t we all? She’s such a sweetie.” She grinned and gave him a look rife with curiosity. “Am I wrong to suspect that wedding bells may be ringing soon?”

  “We’ve talked about it. Nothing set in cement yet.”

  Two hours later, Isaiah finally closed the last incision. The shepherd’s vitals were still strong. That was a good sign.

  “Get on the horn,” he told Belinda. “This fellow has to be kept under close observation for the next several hours, and we’re both too wiped out to stay. See if you can get a tech to come in and sit with him.”

  It was daylight by the time Isaiah got home. When he stepped inside the house, he saw Laura asleep on an easy chair. An afghan that his mother had made was draped over her shoulder. She’d drawn her legs beneath her, and her head was lolling on her shoulder.

  He tiptoed across the room to kiss her awake. “Mornin’, sunshine.”

  As Isaiah spoke, it occurred to him that she actually was his sunshine. She had brightened his whole world.

  “Isaiah.” She rubbed her eyes and sat up. “What time is it?”

  “Going on seven.”

  “I waited up for you.”

  She looked as tired as he felt. “When did you last feed the puppies?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  “Let’s crash in your room. That way we’ll hear them when they get hungry.”

  En route to the guest room, Laura slipped an arm around his waist. “You must be worn out.”

  “Pretty much wasted, yeah.”

  “Is the dog all right?”

  Isaiah shook his head. “I’ve done all I can. God has to do the rest.”

  At nine o’clock, the puppies served as an alarm clock to bring Laura awake and rouse Isaiah momentarily from an exhausted sleep.

  “Don’t get up,” Laura whispered. “I’ll take care of them.”

  Isaiah wanted to argue, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to form the words. Laura. It seemed that only minutes had passed when she shook him partially awake again and leaned down to beam a smile at him.

  “I called in to check on the dog. Lena says he’s holding strong.”

  “Good, good.” Isaiah struggled to smile, but even curving his lips took too much effort.

  When Isaiah finally resurfaced, it was almost three in the afternoon. Laura heard him stumbling about in the bedroom. She’d pulled the wading pool out into the living room so as not to disturb him during feeding times. Now she was keeping busy, putting puppies back in the pool.

  “Coffee’s fresh,” she said when he emerged.

  He had fastened his jeans, but his shirt hung open to reveal a swath of bronzed, muscular chest furred with dark hair. He blinked and peered blearily at a puppy as it gained the top edge of the pool wall and tumbled out headfirst onto the floor. “What the hell? They aren’t supposed to be doing that yet.”

  Laura could only lift her hands. “Tell them that. All of a sudden they’ve got springs on their feet.”

  Isaiah yawned and headed for the kitchen. When he returned a moment later, he held a steaming mug of coffee in one big hand and looked a little more alert. He watched her put a puppy back in the pool, smiled, and shook his head. “Time for a portable kennel. You can’t spend your whole day juggling dogs.”

  Laura knew he was right. But that wasn’t to say she hadn’t been enjoying herself. “Hapless thinks it’s great. They’re almost big enough to play with him.”

  Isaiah sat in an easy chair. While he took a slow sip of coffee, Laura nibbled her bottom lip.

  “Isaiah?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Can I keep one?”

  “Keep one what?”

  Laura rolled her eyes at him. “A puppy.”

  He frowned. “Hapless will be a big dog, Laura.”

  “I know.” Laura patted Hapless, who lay sleeping beside her. “But he’s yours. I want a dog of my own.” Laura scooped up the little male who’d captured her heart. She couldn’t look at his wrinkled nose without smiling. “I want to name him Frown Face.”

  “Frown Face? What kind of a name is that?” Isaiah studied the puppy. Then he finally smiled. “He is sort of frowny at that.” His eyes darkened. “Laura, honey, the people who owned the mother get pick of the litter. There’s every chance they’ll pick him. He’s a good-looking pup.”

  Laura’s heart caught. “Can’t I just hide him?”

  “You don’t think they can count? They already know there are thirteen puppies.”

  Laura held the puppy close to her heart. She thought for a moment. Then she brightened and said, “One of them just died.”

  Isaiah threw back his dark head and barked with laughter.

  When Monday morning rolled around and the shepherd was still holding strong, Isaiah finally breathed a sigh of relief. He called the police to give them an update on the dog’s condition, happy to report that the guide dog would probably make it.

  “That’s wonderful news,” a female dispatcher said. “His owner has been inconsolable. He isn’t just a dog to her, but her best friend in the entire world.”

  “If he’s her best friend, why did she let him ride in the back of a pickup on icy roads? It’s one thing in the summer for short trips, but it’s pure lunacy in the winter when the asphalt is slick.”

  “I know,” the woman agreed. “Trust me when I say she’ll never allow it again. Next time she says she’ll hire a cab. It was just one of those things, I guess, a single-seat pickup, and two people at the airport to pick her up. With three people up front, there was no room for the dog. She didn’t think it would hurt to let him ride in the back. They were only going a short distance.”

  “Icy roads are hazardous no matter how short the distance.” Isaiah realized that he was complaining to the wrong person. “I’m sorry. It’s just hard sometimes. I see more idiots walk through our door than I care to count. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to properly care for a pet. All you need is a little common sense.”

  The woman made a commiserating sound. “Tell me about it. You see the dogs that have been thrown from vehicles. We see the kids.”

  Isaiah’s stomach turned just at the thought. He stayed on the line only long enough to verify the billing information with the police.

  On Tuesday Isaiah realized that there were only three shopping days left before Christmas. He was writing out a prescription in one of the examining rooms. As he wrote the date, it suddenly dawned on him that it wasn’t the twenty-first of just any old month, but the twenty-first of December.

  Laura had already pulled her morning shift and left for the day. After returning to the surgery, Isaiah plucked his cell phone from his belt, dialed his home number, and paced until she answered.

  “Can you bring the puppies to the clinic at about four?” he asked after she’d said hello.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to hire someone to stay here and watch them while we go Christmas shopping.”

  “You aren’t finished yet?”

  Isaiah rubbed the spot between his eyebrows that always throbbed when his nerves were on edge. “Finished? Sweetheart, I haven’t st
arted.”

  Long silence. “But, Isaiah, it’s almost Christmas.”

  “I know. I don’t know where my head was. I thought I had plenty of time left. Would you mind helping me out?”

  “How many people do you have to buy for?”

  “At a quick count, about thirty, not counting all the older hands at the Lazy J. I grew up with most of them, and they’re like family. And you, of course. I suppose I should get something for your parents and grandmother as well. And your sister and her family, too, I guess. Probably, when it’s all said and done, about forty, maybe forty-five.”

  “That’s a lot.”

  “I know,” he agreed miserably. “I have a big fam-ily, and it’s getting bigger every year.” He sighed. “I was thinking that we could take the Hummer and leave your car here until tomorrow.”

  “Won’t we have to go back for the puppies?”

  “Yeah. But we’ll be coming to work about the same time in the morning. Why drive your car clear back to the house and waste gas? It’ll be fine parked behind the clinic.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you at four, then.”

  “I appreciate this, sweetheart. We’ll do dinner out. Sound good?”

  When Isaiah ended the call, Belinda was laughing and shaking her head. “You forgot to go shopping again.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I didn’t forget, exactly. I was thinking I could go sometime next week.”

  “Next week?” Belinda raised her dark eyebrows. “What planet are you living on?”

  Laura was late arriving at the clinic. Isaiah had funneled all the appointments he couldn’t cancel into Tucker’s wing, and he’d been watching for her out a kennel window for almost fifteen minutes. When he finally saw her car pull into the parking lot, he let himself out through the storage room door and hurried to meet her.

  “Sorry,” she said as she spilled from the car. “I had puppy problems.”

  “What kind of problems?”

  She looked like a cheerful little Eskimo in the hooded pink parka. Fake fur framed her face, with tendrils of blond hair poking out. “They wouldn’t stay in the basket. I got on the road and the first thing I knew, I had a puppy under the brake pedal.”

  Isaiah’s heart caught. “You could have had a wreck.”

  “Tell me about it. I couldn’t use the brake. I had to turn the key off and roll to a stop.”

  “Dear God.” Isaiah bent to peer through a rear window. “Where are they?”

  “In the trunk.” She popped the lid just then. Isaiah stepped around the rear bumper. Puppies were popping up like jack-in-the-boxes. “Help!” Laura started grabbing puppies before they tumbled out and fell to the ground. “I don’t have enough hands!”

  Isaiah couldn’t help himself; he started to laugh. His amusement quickly faded when he grabbed for a tumbling puppy and almost missed his mark. Before he could put that dog in the basket, another one toppled out. “Sweet Lord. They’re too little to be doing this. What are you lacing that formula with?”

  Puppies were coming out of the basket quicker than they could put them in. Isaiah slipped off his jacket and threw it over the wicker to create a lid. Then he helped slip puppies inside and held the jacket taut while Laura rounded up more. When all thirteen babies had been stuffed in the basket, they worked in tandem to carry it into the clinic, Laura dancing around Isaiah as he walked to catch furry little escapees.

  “I have never in all my life.” Isaiah was out of breath when he set the basket down inside a kennel cage. “And you want one of these little monsters?” A black ball with legs tumbled from the basket and waddled blindly over the toe of his boot. Isaiah was afraid to move for fear of stepping on a tiny paw. He reached down to collect the puppy and was rewarded with a snarl for his trouble. “The little shit. He just growled at me.”

  “Don’t call him a little shit. That’s Frown Face.”

  Isaiah turned the puppy around to stare into its milky eyes. “As soon as you can see me clearly, you little pill, we’re going to get a clear understanding.”

  Isaiah hated to go shopping for Christmas presents. His usual mode of operation was to hit a department store and scoop things off shelves as he passed through a section: housewares for women, the tool section for men. On his last sweep he hit the toy section for the kids.

  The first crack out of the bag, he realized that he and Laura didn’t see eye-to-eye on the appropriate way to select gifts. She stared at him in appalled dismay when he grabbed a toaster for his mother.

  “Isaiah, your mom has a toaster.”

  “This one has four holes, though.”

  “That isn’t the point. You’re sup-posed to get people things that they want. She doesn’t need a toaster, and it isn’t a fun present, either.”

  “She loves toasters.”

  Laura gave him an incredulous look and started to tap her foot. “Please don’t tell me you’ve gotten her toasters before.”

  Isaiah couldn’t see what was so bad about buying someone a toaster. People ate toast, didn’t they? If his mother already had a toaster, it was bound to break sooner or later. Then she’d be really glad that he’d thought to buy her a new one.

  “Here’s the deal,” he said. “I have forty-five people to buy for. If I stand around thinking it to death every time I pick a gift, it’ll take me a week.”

  Laura put the toaster back on the shelf. “If we can’t find something better, we’ll come back for it later.”

  Isaiah almost groaned, but he dutifully followed her through the store. When she picked something up and examined it from all sides, including from the bottom, he just smiled. Why not? Hell, they had three more days to shop. Piece of cake.

  To his surprise, shopping Laura’s way turned out to be fun. Maybe it was because his head had stopped hurting, but putting a little thought into a gift was rewarding. They found a kitchen stool for his mother—a handy fold-up thing with a projecting seat so she could sit down while she prepared meals. More than once at family dinners Isaiah had seen Mary with swollen ankles and rubbing her lower back. The stool was something she’d really use.

  After that Laura led Isaiah through the mall, stopping at specialty shops to browse and find thoughtful presents for everyone they loved. In between stores they made mad dashes through the winter night to stash their purchases in the Hummer. It was snowing, which made it all perfect.

  At the mall commons, she insisted that they circle the gigantic Christmas display filled with animated figures. This year it was Santa’s workshop at the North Pole. Reindeer lowered their heads to eat. Through frosted windowpanes they could see Santa’s elves working industriously in a golden glow of light to complete their projects before Christmas Eve.

  “Oh, Isaiah, look at Mrs. Claus!” Laura cried. “Isn’t she sweet?”

  Isaiah bent to peer through frosted glass and study a cute little Mrs. Claus, complete with granny glasses, rosy cheeks, a blue dress, an apron, and chunky shoes. Beaming a smile, she was extending a tray to a very happy and satisfied Santa, who kept grabbing cookies and saying, “Ho, ho, ho! Thank you, Mrs. Claus.”

  “Wouldn’t it be neat if there really were a Santa, and we could all make a wish and have it come true?” Laura asked.

  She looked up at Isaiah with shimmering eyes, and in that moment he decided that he’d already received a lifetime’s supply of Christmas wishes. She was everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d ever needed, and more than he’d ever dreamed of, his every desire all rolled into one. Christmas carols were playing over the mall’s sound system—at that instant “Silver Bells”—making him realize that he didn’t have a stereo, let alone a Christmas CD. Even worse, he’d been so focused on work that he hadn’t gotten Laura a gift yet or even thought about what she might like.

  He didn’t like the picture of himself that was taking shape in his mind. He’d become a modern-day Scrooge, almost mechanical in the way he lived his life. Granted, his work was important, and it was fine to be dedicated, but not to the e
xclusion of all else. There was Christmas magic in the air. Soon they’d be celebrating the birth of Christ. It was a glorious occasion, a time of year that he never wanted to ignore again.

  “There is a Santa,” he assured Laura. “If you believe in him, he’s as real as we are. Just keep telling yourself there is a Santa.”

  She laughed, squeezed her eyes closed, and said, “I’m making my Christmas wish.”

  “What did you wish for?” he asked when she lifted her lashes.

  “I can’t tell. Then it won’t come true.”

  At the opposite side of the North Pole scene they came upon a Christmas tree for the poor, decorated with envelopes. At the top of the tree a paper star bore the message, PICK A FAMILY. Normally Isaiah went straight past such displays. He already had enough family to buy for at Christmas. But tonight he couldn’t keep walking. He had so very much, and there were others who had little or nothing.

  “Let’s give a poor family a nice Christmas,” he suggested.

  Laura looked hesitant. “I don’t know if I’ve got the money. When I pay off my credit card, the lady at the bank tells me how much I’ve got left. But it’s almost the end of the month, so she hasn’t told me for a while.”

  Isaiah couldn’t imagine how it would be, never to know for sure how much money he’d spent or how much he had left. “I’ll pay for everything,” he assured her. “I’m blessed with the resources to be able to do it and never notice the expenditure.” He turned her toward the tree. “Close your eyes and pick an envelope.”

  Laura’s groping hand landed on a red envelope that contained the physical descriptions of five individuals, a mother and four children of varying ages. There were three girls, ages six, nine, and eleven, along with boy of fourteen. Each child had written a Christmas wish list, all fairly modest requests and some sadly practical, such as snow boots or insulated gloves. Although the mother’s clothing sizes were supplied, she’d asked only for five frozen turkey dinners, a can of cranberry sauce, a package of dinner rolls, and a frozen pumpkin pie.