A Christmas Message

by Debbie Macomber

  “Didn’t you hear me?” her sister cried. “This is an emergency.”

  With that, the phone went dead. Groaning, K.O. replaced the receiver.

  “Is something wrong?” Wynn asked as he stepped around the paramedic who was still looking after Max.

  “It’s Zelda. She wants—no, needs—to talk to you. According to her it’s an emergency.” K.O. felt the need to warn him. “She’s already on her way.”

  “Now? You mean she’s coming now?”

  K.O. nodded. “Apparently so.” Zelda hadn’t mentioned what this argument with Zach was about. Three guesses said it had to do with Christmas and Wynn’s theories. Oh, great. Her sister was arriving at the scene of a disaster.

  “Are you taking him to the h-hospital?” LaVonne sobbed, covering her mouth with both hands.

  “It’s just a precaution,” the medic answered. “A doctor needs to look at those scratches.”

  “Not that dreadful man!” LaVonne cried, pointing at Max. “I’m talking about my cat.”

  “Oh.” The paramedic glanced at his companion. “Unfortunately, in instances such as this, we’re obliged to notify Animal Control.”

  “You’re hauling my Tom to...jail?”

  “Quarantine,” he told her gently.

  For a moment LaVonne seemed about to faint. Wynn put his arm around the older woman’s shoulders and led her to the sofa so she could sit down. “This can’t be happening,” LaVonne wailed. “I can’t believe this is happening to my Tom.”

  “Your cat should be—”

  Wynn cast his father a look meaningful enough to silence the rest of whatever Max had planned to say.

  “I’m going to be scarred for life,” Max shouted. “I just hope you’ve got good insurance, because you’re going to pay for this. And you’re going to pay big.”

  “Don’t you dare threaten me!” LaVonne had recovered enough to shout back.

  With his arm stretched out in front of him, Max Jeffries followed the paramedic out of the condo and past the crowd of tenants who’d gathered in the hallway outside K.O.’s door.

  “That...that terrible man just threatened me,” LaVonne continued. “Tom’s never attacked anyone like this before.”

  “Please, please, let me through.”

  K.O. heard her sister’s voice.

  Meanwhile LaVonne was weeping loudly. “My poor Tom. My poor, poor Tom. What will become of him?”

  “What on earth is going on here?” Zelda demanded as she made her way into the apartment. The second paramedic was gathering up his equipment and getting ready to leave. The blood-soaked towels K.O. had wrapped around Max’s arm were on the floor. The scene was completely chaotic and Zelda’s arrival only added to the mayhem.

  “Your f-father wants to s-sue me,” LaVonne stuttered, pleading with Wynn. “Do something. Promise me you’ll talk to him.”

  Wynn sat next to LaVonne and tried to comfort her. “I’ll do what I can,” he said. “I’m sure that once my father’s settled down he’ll listen to reason.”

  LaVonne’s eyes widened, as though she had trouble believing Wynn. “I don’t mean to insult you, but your father doesn’t seem like a reasonable man to me.”

  “Whose blood is that?” Zelda asked, hands on her hips as she surveyed the room.

  K.O. tried to waylay her sister. “As you can see,” she said, gesturing about her, “this really isn’t a good time to visit.”

  “I don’t care,” Zelda insisted. “I need to talk to Dr. Jeffries.” She thrust his book at him and a pen. “Could you sign this for me?”

  Just then a man wearing a jacket that identified him as an Animal Control officer came in, holding an animal carrier. The name Walt was embroidered on his shirt.

  Wynn quickly signed his name, all the while watching the man from Animal Control.

  LaVonne took one look at Walt and burst into tears. She buried her face in her hands and started to rock back and forth.

  “Where’s the cat?” Walt asked.

  “We’ve got him in the bathroom,” the paramedic said.

  “Please don’t hurt him,” LaVonne wept. “Please, please...”

  Walt raised a reassuring hand. “I handle situations like this every day. Don’t worry, Miss, I’ll be gentle with your pet.”

  “Dr. Jeffries, Dr. Jeffries.” Zelda slipped past K.O. and climbed over LaVonne’s knees in order to reach Wynn. She plunked herself down on the coffee table, facing him. “I really do need to talk to you.”

  “Zelda!” K.O. was shocked by her sister’s audacity.

  “Zach and I never argue,” Zelda said over her shoulder, glaring at K.O. as if that fact alone should explain her actions. “This will only take a few minutes, I promise. Once I talk to Dr. Jeffries, I’ll be able to tell Zach what he said and then he’ll understand.”

  LaVonne wailed as Walt entered the bathroom.

  K.O. heard a hiss and wondered if her shower curtain was now in shreds. She’d never seen a cat react to anyone the way Tom had to Wynn’s father. Even now she couldn’t figure out what had set him off.

  “This’ll only take a minute,” Zelda went on. “You see, my husband and I read your book, and it changed everything. Well, to be perfectly honest, I don’t know if Zach read the whole book.” A frown crossed her face.

  “LaVonne, perhaps I should take you home now,” K.O. suggested, thinking it might be best for her neighbor not to see Tom leave the building caged.

  “I can’t leave,” LaVonne said. “Not until I know what’s happening to Tom.”

  The bathroom door opened and Walt reappeared with Tom safely inside the cat carrier.

  “Tom, oh, Tom,” LaVonne wailed, throwing her arms wide.

  “Dr. Jeffries, Dr. Jeffries,” Zelda pleaded, vying for his attention.

  “Zelda, couldn’t this wait a few minutes?” K.O. asked.

  “Where are you taking Tom?” LaVonne demanded.

  “We’re just going to put him in quarantine,” Walt said in a soothing voice.

  “Tom’s had all his shots. My veterinarian will verify everything you need to know.”

  “Good. Still, we’re legally required to do this. I guarantee he’ll be well looked after.”

  “Thank you,” K.O. said, relieved.

  “Can I speak to Dr. Jeffries now?” Zelda asked impatiently. “You see, I don’t think my husband really did read your book,” she continued, picking up where she’d left off. “If he had, we wouldn’t be having this disagreement.”

  “I’ll see LaVonne home,” K.O. said. She closed one arm around her friend’s waist and steered her out of the condo.

  Wynn looked at Zelda and sent K.O. a beseeching glance.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she promised.

  He nodded and mouthed the word hurry.

  K.O. rolled her eyes. As she escorted LaVonne, the sound of her sister’s voice followed her into the hallway, which was fortunately deserted. It didn’t take long to get LaVonne settled in her own place. Once she had Phillip and Martin with her, she was comforted, since both seemed to recognize her distress and lavished their mistress with affection.

  When she returned to her condo, K.O. found that her sister hadn’t moved. She still sat on the coffee table, so close to Wynn that their knees touched. Judging by the speed with which Zelda spoke, K.O. doubted he’d had a chance to get a word in edgewise.

  “Then the girls started to cry,” Zelda was saying. “They want a Christmas tree and Zach thinks we should get one.”

  “I don’t believe—” Wynn was cut off before he could finish his thought.

  “I know you don’t actually condemn Christmas trees, but I didn’t want to encourage the girls about this Santa thing, and I feel decorating a tree would do that. If we’re going to bury Santa under the sleigh—and I’m in complete agreement with
you, Dr. Jeffries—then it makes sense to downplay everything else having to do with Christmas, too. Certainly all the commercial aspects. But how do I handle the girls’ reaction when they hear their friends talking about Santa?”

  Wynn raised a finger, indicating that he’d like to comment. His request, however, was ignored.

  “I feel as you do,” Zelda rushed on breathlessly, bringing one hand to her chest in a gesture of sincerity. “It’s wrong to mislead one’s children with figures of fantasy. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong. Zach agreed with me—but only in principle, as it turns out. Then we got into this big fight over the Christmas tree and you have to understand that my husband and I hardly ever argue, so this is all very serious.”

  “Where’s Zach now?” K.O. asked, joining Wynn on the sofa.

  As if to let her know how much he appreciated having her back, Wynn reached for her hand. At Zelda’s obvious interest, he released it, but the contact, brief as it was, reassured her.

  Zelda lowered her head. “Zach’s at home with the girls. If you must know, I sort of left my husband with the twins.”

  “Zoe and Zara,” K.O. said under her breath for Wynn’s benefit.

  “Despite my strong feelings on the matter, I suspect my husband is planning to take our daughters out to purchase a Christmas tree.” She paused. “A giant one.”

  “Do you think he might even decorate it with Santa figurines and reindeer?” K.O. asked, pretending to be scandalized.

  “Oh, I hope not,” Zelda cried. “That would ruin everything I’ve tried so hard to institute in our family.”

  “As I recall,” Wynn finally said. He waited a moment as if to gauge whether now was a good time to insert his opinions. When no one interrupted him, he continued. “I didn’t say anything in my book against Christmas trees, giant or otherwise.”

  “Yes, I know that, but it seems to me—”

  “It seems to me that you’ve carried this a bit further than advisable,” Wynn said gently. “Despite what you and K.O. think, I don’t want to take Christmas away from your children or from you and your husband. It’s a holiday to be celebrated. Family and traditions are important.”

  K.O. agreed with him. She felt gratified that there was common ground between them, an opinion on which they could concur. Nearly everything she’d heard about Wynn to this point had come from her sister. K.O. was beginning to wonder if Zelda was taking his advice to extremes.

  “Besides,” he said, “there’s a fundamental contradiction in your approach. You’re correct to minimize the element of fantasy—but your children are telling you what they want, aren’t they? And you’re ignoring that.”

  K.O. wanted to cheer. She took Wynn’s hand again, and this time he didn’t let go.

  “By the way,” Zelda said, looking from Wynn to K.O. and staring pointedly at their folded hands. “Just when did you two start dating?”

  “I told you—”

  “What you said,” her sister broke in, “was that Dr. Jeffries lived in the same building as you.”

  “I told you we went to dinner a couple of times.”

  “You most certainly did not.” Zelda stood up, an irritated expression on her face. “Well, okay, you did mention the one dinner at Chez Jerome.”

  “Did you know that I’m planning to join Katherine this Friday when she’s watching the twins?” Wynn asked.

  “She’s bringing you along?” Zelda’s eyes grew round with shock. “You might’ve said something to me,” she burst out, clearly upset with K.O.

  “I thought I had told you.”

  “You haven’t talked to me in days,” Zelda wailed. “It’s like I’m not even your sister anymore. The last I heard, you were going to get Dr. Jeffries’s autograph for me, and you didn’t, although I specifically asked if you would.”

  “Would you prefer I not watch the twins?” Wynn inquired.

  “Oh, no! It would be an honor,” Zelda assured him, smiling, her voice warm and friendly. She turned to face K.O. again, her eyes narrowed. “But my own sister,” she hissed, “should’ve told me she intended on having a famous person spend the night in my home.”

  “You’re not to tell anyone,” K.O. insisted.

  Zelda glared at her. “Fine. I won’t.”

  “Promise me,” K.O. said. Wynn was entitled to his privacy; the last thing he needed was a fleet of parents in SUVs besieging him about his book.

  “I promise.” Without a further word, Zelda grabbed her purse and made a hasty exit.

  “Zelda!” K.O. called after her. “I think we need to talk about this for a minute.”

  “I don’t have a minute. I need to get home to my husband and children. We’ll talk later,” Zelda said in an ominous tone, and then she was gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I’d better leave now, as well,” Wynn announced, getting his coat. “Dad’ll need me to drive him back from the emergency room.” K.O. was glad he didn’t seem eager to go.

  For her part, she wanted him to stay. Her nerves were frayed. Nothing had worked out as she’d planned and now everyone was upset with her. LaVonne, her dear friend, was inconsolable. Zelda was annoyed that K.O. hadn’t kept her updated on the relationship with Wynn. Max Jeffries was just plain angry, and while the brunt of his anger had been directed at LaVonne, K.O. realized he wasn’t pleased with her, either. Now Wynn had to go. Reluctantly K.O. walked him to the door. “Let me know how your father’s doing, okay?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “Of course.” Wynn placed his hands on her shoulders. “You know I’d much rather be here with you.”

  She saw the regret in his eyes and didn’t want to make matters worse. “Thank you for being so wonderful,” she said and meant it. Wynn had been the voice of calm and reason throughout this entire ordeal.

  “I’ll call you about my father as soon as I hear.”

  “Thank you.”

  After a brief hug, he hurried out the door.

  After a dinner of eggnog and peanut butter on crackers, K.O. waited up until after midnight, but no word came. Finally, when she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, she climbed between the sheets and fell instantly asleep. This surprised her; she hadn’t anticipated sleeping easily or well. When she woke the following morning, the first thoughts that rushed into her mind were of Wynn. Something must have happened, something unexpected and probably dreadful, or he would’ve called.

  Perhaps the hospital had decided to keep Max overnight for observation. While there’d been a lot of blood involved, K.O. didn’t think any of the cuts were deep enough to require stitches. But if Max had filed a police report, that would cause problems for LaVonne and might explain Wynn’s silence. Every scenario that roared through her head pointed to trouble.

  Even before she made her first cup of coffee, K.O.’s stomach was in knots. As she headed into the kitchen, she discovered a sealed envelope that had been slipped under her door.

  It read:

  Katherine,

  I didn’t get back from the hospital until late and I was afraid you’d already gone to bed. Dad’s home and, other than being cantankerous, he’s doing fine, so don’t worry on his account. The hospital cleaned and bandaged his arm and said he’d be good as new in a week or so. Please reassure LaVonne. The cuts looked worse than they actually were.

  Could you stop by my office this afternoon? I’m at the corner of Fourth and Willow, Suite 1110. Does one o’clock work for you? If you can’t fit it into your schedule, please contact my assistant and let her know. Otherwise, I’ll look forward to seeing you, then.

  Wynn

  Oh, she could fit it in. She could definitely fit it in. K.O. was ready to climb Mount Rainier for a chance to see Wynn. With purpose now, she showered and dressed and then, on the off chance Max might need something, she phoned Wynn’s condo.

  His father answered right away, which ma
de her wonder if he’d been sitting next to the phone waiting for a call.

  “Good morning,” she said, striving to sound cheerful and upbeat—all the while hoping Max wasn’t one to hold grudges.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s K.O.,” she told him, her voice faltering despite her effort to maintain a cheery tone.

  He hesitated as if he needed time to place who she might be. “Oh,” he finally said. “The woman from downstairs. The woman whose friend caused me irreparable distress.” After another pause, he said, “I’m afraid I might be suffering from trauma-induced amnesia.”

  “Excuse me?” K.O. was sure she’d misunderstood.

  “I was attacked yesterday by a possibly rabid beast and am fortunate to be alive. I don’t remember much after that vicious animal sank its claws into my arm,” he added shakily.

  K.O. closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” she said, going along with it. “But the hospital released you, I see.”

  “Yes.” This was said with disdain; apparently, he felt the medical profession had made a serious error in judgment. “I’m on heavy pain medication.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “I don’t know where my son’s gone,” he muttered fretfully.

  If Wynn hadn’t told his father he was at the office, then K.O. wasn’t about to, either. She suspected Wynn had good reason to escape.

  “Since you live in the building...” Max began.

  “Uh...” She could see it coming. Max wanted her to sit and hold his uninjured hand for the rest of the day.

  “I do, but unfortunately I’m on my way out.”

  “Oh.”

  It took K.O. a few more minutes to wade through the guilt he was shoveling in her direction. “I’ll drop by and check on you later,” she promised.

  “Thank you,” he said, ending their conversation with a groan, a last shovelful of guilt.

  K.O. hung up the phone, groaning, too. This was even worse than she’d imagined and she had a fine imagination. Max was obviously playing this incident for all it was worth. Irreparable distress. Rabid beast. Trauma-induced amnesia! Oh, brother.