Dashing Through the Mall: Santa, BabyAssignment HumbugDeck the Halls

by Sherryl Woods

  “She might,” Tim said, not looking very sure.

  “Nah, probably not. She can hardly walk. I bet she couldn’t use the controller very well. But she does like all those kids’ shows on TV. Maybe we could get her a stuffed animal of one of those characters?” Jake suggested.

  The boys started squabbling about which sibling might like what. More bantering than fighting, they reminded her so much of her cousins, of her family. It made her miss the whole O’Connell clan—even Uncle Fred—all the more.

  And missing Uncle Fred was saying something, since his idea of holiday cheer came from a bottle—a bottle he seemed determined to empty on his own each year. About halfway into it, he’d start singing risqué bar songs. You could always tell a party was winding down when he finally reached “Honky Tonk Woman.”

  Most years she cringed when Uncle Fred was around, but at this moment, she sort of wanted to hear his rendition of “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” It had to be better than most of the Christmas carols.

  “Come on, guys,” Ed said, pulling Joy from her memories of Christmases past.

  The words were mild enough, but she heard the current of warning in his tone and saw a dad-look in his eyes. “Ms. O’Connell is being generous filling in for Ms. Anthony, who’s sick. She’s got a lot of things to attend to, things that don’t include herding us through the store all day.”

  And though she’d thought that very thing not too long ago, Joy realized that at this moment she couldn’t think of anything she’d rather be doing. So she smiled reassuringly at the boys. “Okay, so the toy department for the younger kids. Any other thoughts?”

  “Yes,” said Jake. “The three of us thought we’d pool our gift allowances for each other and give ourselves a joint present. The new gaming system and its accessories. We did the math, took our spending allowance for each other, added them all together and it was enough. We can do that, can’t we? It’s within our budget.”

  “Yes,” Joy assured them. “You can do that. It’s nice that you’re all willing to share. And I’m glad you figured out what to get each other, but you have a long list. So what about the others? Do you have any ideas?”

  Three dark-haired heads shook, the youngest’s so vigorously that Joy worried he’d rattle something loose.

  “Well, then,” she said, trying for that holiday cheer again, “Let’s go start at the toy department and see what other ideas crop up.”

  On the way there, they passed by the electronics section. She stopped a clerk and asked him to put one of the new gaming systems behind the counter for the boys.

  “No use hauling that huge box around the rest of the day,” she told Ed.

  Ed held back a bit as the boys raced ahead. “Sorry this is going to take a while. I can shop with them, if you like, then call you when we’ve finished so you can approve the presents.”

  “You know, if you’d asked me first thing this morning, I’d have probably taken you up on your offer. But now? Well, let’s just say, this shopping trip isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

  He cast a meaningful glance at the boys. “Really?”

  Joy nodded. “Really.”

  She felt a warm glow that lasted until the boys started fighting about which game to get with their new system. “The space one, not the race car.”

  “The noisier the better, right?” Joy asked Ed.

  Ed nodded, even as he cast the boys his evil-dad-eye and said the single word, “Boys,” in a tone that would have guaranteed Joy’s cooperation.

  It didn’t seem to have the desired effect on the boys, though. Oh, they got a bit quieter, but she noticed they were still whispering their argument, and caught the sly pushes and slugs whenever their father’s attention shifted.

  “Let’s try and finish here, then we’ll come back to electronics if you like. How about this for your four-year-old sister?” Joy tried, holding up a princess doll. She didn’t watch much children’s television, but she did work retail and knew it was a good seller.

  “She doesn’t like girlie toys, she’s a tomboy,” T.J. maintained. “I know you thought she might want a toy, but Dad, she’s going to want—”

  “Let me guess,” Ed said. “Some sort of electronic game?”

  Three heads nodded in unison, like a trio of bobblehead dolls.

  “Is there anyone on your shopping list who won’t want electronics?” Joy asked softly.

  All her warm glowing personal family memories faded, as well as the leftover warm glow from their present-delivering time. Joy suddenly recalled that after those first few aren’t-they-precious moments, visits with her family’s youngest members routinely sounded like this moment right now.

  And truth be told, Uncle Fred sang off-key.

  Very off-key.

  “I guess the baby might want something that wasn’t electronic,” Tim admitted. “I mean, she still puts all her toys in her mouth. And you always say water and electricity don’t mix.”

  “Rule Number One, as a matter of fact,” Jake offered.

  Ed looked slightly embarrassed. “I started preaching that after Tim thought his fish might enjoy listening to the radio and dropped it in the tank.” Ed paused. “An electric radio, not a battery operated one.”

  Joy wished she’d brought another cup of coffee along with her. She could use a jolt of caffeine to bolster her sagging spirits, though she doubted it would do much to erase the picture of the electrocuted goldfish from her mind.

  “Come on,” Tim protested. “I was only six at the time and didn’t know better.”

  “Yeah,” Jake said. “But those fried fish and the shorted-out socket are why the electricity and water don’t mix rule went on the board.”

  “Board?” Joy asked.

  “Dad got this great idea. He made a list of life lessons for us. Rules that would keep us out of trouble.” Tim didn’t look as if he felt the life lesson list was all that great an idea.

  “He posted a whiteboard in the basement and adds to it,” T.J. explained. “The Hall Family’s Life Lessons.”

  Ed was looking very uncomfortable. “That’s enough boys. I’m sure Ms. O’Connell would like to finish off this shopping trip so she can get back to work.”

  “No, actually, I’m fascinated by your life lessons. What else made the board?”

  All three tried to answer at once, but T.J. was the loudest. “Change your underwear every day. That was mine after Dad did a week’s laundry and didn’t find any of my underwear in it.” He paused and added, “I’ve outgrown that one now.”

  “I added the rule about showering every day at the same time,” Ed told her.

  “Don’t light arrows then shoot them. I think that’s Number Twenty-three,” Jake hollered.

  “Let me guess, that was yours?” she asked him.

  “Actually, my friends Katie, Joey and Ryan prompted that rule.”

  “You were there, though, and didn’t have the sense to leave,” Ed said. “Which is why we added Rule Number Twenty-four—if friends are doing something dangerous, either make them stop or leave and tell.”

  “The telling part is tough, but sometimes you have to,” Jake said. He looked very adult at that moment, and Joy wondered what had happened with a friend.

  The mood didn’t stay somber long.

  Tim grinned, casting a look at his dad that said he knew Ed was going to yell. “And then there’s the excuse-me rule, Number Eighteen. If you make a rude bodily noise, just say excuse me. That one’s all mine. I’d learned this saying, Excuse me please, that wasn’t smart, but if it would have come out the other end it would have been a—”

  “All right, I think Ms. O’Connell has the idea and I’m pretty sure she’s had enough highlights of the Halls’Life Lessons.” Ed eyed all his sons looking stern.

  Joy laughed. “To be honest, I liked them.”

  Just then the rap version of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” came over the PA system. “You can go home and add, no Christmas carols should be
played until after Thanksgiving, if you like.”

  “And no carol should be rapped…ever,” Ed added, shooting her a secret, just-between-grown-ups smile.

  Despite the fact they’d been wandering through the toy section for what felt like an eternity and hadn’t managed to buy even one present, Joy couldn’t help but smile back.

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT WAS AFTER TWO-THIRTY and the boys had managed to pick out two presents for Hannah, the still-chews-her-toys half sister. The beautiful princess doll, and a football. The boys agreed that their sisters shouldn’t be allowed or encouraged to get too girlie.

  “Guys like girls who play sports,” Jake said, all sage wisdom and grown-up-like.

  The doll, the football and two silver frames, which they’d picked up in the nearby homeware department, one frame for each set of grandparents was all that they’d managed in the hour they’d been shopping.

  When Ed said he thought he had a picture of the three of them, Joy had laughed and said leave that part of it to her.

  He’d studied her suspiciously as she’d gone and whispered to one of the employees who’d looked at Ed and laughed, then hurried away.

  Joy looked like a Christmas angel. Yes, it was a totally mushy and nonHe-Mannish thought, but there it was. Joy O’Connell was a picture of wide-eyed sweetness. But her expression? It belied the image. She was way too devilishly pleased with herself.

  “What are you planning?” he asked suspiciously when she came back.

  “Nothing,” Joy replied, batting her eyes in what he was sure was an attempt to appear innocent.

  It wasn’t the type of technique the boys would use, nonetheless he recognized that it was just a ploy, designed to throw him off his suspicions.

  “I have a nurse-practitioner working at the office who gets that precise look on her face right before she does something diabolical. Em’s got a wicked sense of humor that finds frequent expression in horrible practical jokes.”

  “Oh? Like what?” She leaned toward him, all attentive.

  “Uh-uh. Do you think I’m going to give you any ideas?” He shook his head. “No way. I may have just recently met you, but I already know you’re far too dangerous as is. You don’t need any tips on how to cause trouble. And don’t deny you’re up to something. I’m the father of three boys. I recognize trouble when I see it.”

  “I’m not trouble,” she maintained with another way-too-innocent grin.

  A smile that made him want to kiss her.

  The mere thought was beyond a surprise.

  Ed hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in a long time. Between the boys and work he’d been busy. Oh, he dated occasionally, and had kissed more than one of the women, but he hadn’t felt this type of pull. This type of desire.

  Trying to hide the feeling, he called, “Boys.”

  They were currently embroiled in a new fight over the merits of sea monkeys for their other half sister.

  For once he was glad to have their arguing to deal with. It was just the distraction he needed to chase the thoughts of kissing Joy O’Connell out of his head.

  “She still eats everything.” Jake thrust the package back at his father. “You’re a doctor. Do you think eating these would kill her?”

  Ed put the package back on the shelf. “If you know she’s probably going to eat them, you probably shouldn’t buy them for her.”

  “Then that’s it. There’s nothing else here to buy,” T.J. said. “That means—”

  “Back to electronics?” Jake asked, hope in his voice.

  Joy glanced at her watch. “Listen, before you all head over there, what about a lunch break? We’re running late because of delivering the presents, but lunch was part of the prize. You all must be starving.”

  Ed wanted to protest that if she fed the boys this really was going to be an all-day excursion, but he stopped himself. Truth be told, spending a day with Joy, even if it meant shopping, wasn’t such a bad prospect.

  And even if he had protested, the boys’ enthusiastic chorus of yeses would have certainly drowned him out.

  Joy was smiling as she simply said, “Let’s go.” Surprisingly, the boys fell right into line and followed her.

  “You’re sure?” he asked. “I know we’re keeping you from work.”

  She nodded. “The work will be here the day after Christmas. Plus, they can page me if something earth-shattering crops up. We’ll feed them, then do some power shopping in the—”

  “Electronics department,” he finished for her.

  They both laughed and the urge to kiss her swept over him again. They’d stopped dead in their tracks and fallen behind the boys now. He looked at her, and she at him for a second, a minute…longer?

  Ed couldn’t tell for sure.

  They’d drawn closer and for a moment, he thought they were indeed going to kiss inside the bustling store, but Joy suddenly pulled back. And Ed knew a keen sense of disappointment.

  “Yes, the electronics department. We can finish there and get you all home in time for your Christmas Eve dinner.”

  He remembered what she’d said about all her family being in San Diego. “Do you have somewhere to go for Christmas Eve?”

  “So, let’s go…lunch,” she said merrily, but Ed noticed that she hadn’t answered his question.

  New to town, her family on the West Coast. What was Joy going to do for the holidays? Spend them alone?

  But she obviously didn’t want to share her plans with a near stranger. He didn’t blame her, but he was still bothered by the thought of Joy on her own.

  “There’s a Patty’s across the hall,” she offered.

  “They have good pizza,” Tim replied, as if that was all the affirmation she required.

  Jake and T.J. agreed.

  “Looks like Patty’s it is,” Joy said.

  Ed walked next to her as they made their way across the hall. “I think the crowd is getting thicker.”

  “I think you’re right. A lot of people enjoy waiting until the last minute. They seem to enjoy the rush. I don’t get it myself.”

  Their group walked into the restaurant and Joy told the hostess, “Five.”

  “Okay, a quick lunch, boys, then we’ll finish this shopping off in short order,” Ed said.

  The boys mumbled their agreement as they all followed the hostess.

  The woman settled them in an oversize booth, passed out menus and set a basket of rolls down. “Your waitress will be with you in just a moment.”

  Ed and Joy sat opposite each other. He had the two younger boys on his bench, she had Jake on hers.

  In no time the boys started comparing orders. Ed tried to concentrate on the menu, tried to decide what sounded good but kept finding his gaze drawn back to Joy.

  “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” came on the PA system and he noticed her grimace. “So, if you weren’t wincing at Christmas carols, what would you be listening to?” Without taking his eyes off Joy, he barked, “Number Fifteen!”

  “Fifteen?” she mock-whispered.

  “No food fights.”

  “I shudder to think what prompted that one?” she half asked, half stated.

  “Let’s just say, there’s a certain chain restaurant here in town that we’re banned from. A lifelong ban. And it’s not just this one in Charlotte, it’s from the entire chain, all of them. Nationwide.”

  “I think the manager said worldwide, Dad,” Jake added helpfully.

  “Do you think he sent our mug shots to all those other stores?” Tim asked hopefully. “Maybe they have a book they keep of people who are banned. If you walk in and they recognize you, do you suppose they’d call the police?”

  “That would be cool,” T.J. said. “Maybe we can get Mom to take us when we get to Raleigh.”

  “Yeah, we’d be in a crowd, so maybe the manager won’t recognize us,” Tim chimed in.

  Jake snorted at his brothers. “They don’t really have a book with our pictures. But it was a cool food fight.”

&nb
sp; Ed shot him a look as Jake continued, “Not that we’re proud of that fact or anything. Rule Number Fifteen shall be especially obeyed in all public places,” he quoted very neatly.

  Joy tried valiantly, but she couldn’t help it, she laughed. The sound felt a bit rusty and she knew it had been a long time since she’d done more than a social chuckle.

  The stress of the move across the country, starting a new job, then the holidays. She’d let it all get to her.

  “I’ve got a new rule for you, that is if friends of the family can suggest them.”

  “Sure,” the boys chorused. Ed smiled and nodded.

  “Laugh at least once every day, no matter how stressful life seems.”

  Good one, Ed mouthed.

  She bowed her head acknowledging his comment, even as the boys began to talk one over the other, vying for her attention and comments.

  They paused long enough to place their orders when the waitress came around.

  As Joy sipped her water, the boys talked about a neighborhood boy who made everyone laugh with his antics. “He makes us look good, doesn’t he, Dad?” T.J. quipped.

  Ed was very vehement in his agreement.

  “They have a future in stand-up,” Joy told Ed during a lull.

  “I figure they’ll all go on to do amazing things…or end up in jail. I just don’t see any hopes at middle ground for them,” he joked.

  As they finished their meal, the boys talked about school, about the holidays, then the conversation turned to their upcoming trip to their mother’s.

  “She misses us,” T.J. said. “It was better when they lived in town.”

  “She did her best.” Jake eyed everyone at the table, as though he was daring someone to accuse his mother of doing less than that.

  “Yes, she did,” Ed agreed. “Leaving you boys with me was one of the hardest decisions the two of us ever made.”

  Joy noticed he included just himself and his ex-wife in the decision-making process, making sure the boys knew that both their parents had stood united, and that the decision ultimately belonged to the adults, not to the boys.