Pet for Christmas

by Rachelle Ayala

  “I sure did, and I’m not telling.” Bree giggles and pulls Tyler’s beret over his eyes.

  A sharp shooting pain grabs my abdomen and tightens like a noose around my womb.

  “Baby’s coming?” Tyler spins around and places Bree on the bed.

  I clutch my womb and nod. “Now that you named him, I think Arman wants to join the family in time for Christmas.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ~ Tyler ~

  Tyler held Bree’s hand as the nurse moved all the visitors out of Kelly’s room to let the team of doctors, nurses, and specialists file in. One pushed an incubator and others put on masks and gloves.

  “Papa, I wanna see my baby brother come out.” Bree hugged him around the legs.

  “We have to stay outside, because the doctors have to work.” He squatted down to her level and held her hand. “He’s being born early.”

  “So he can have two Christmas presents.” Bree beamed and bounced on her heels. “Can I have two Christmas presents, too?”

  “Of course you can.” Tyler ruffled her head. “Did you see Santa this year?”

  “Yep.” Bree nodded pertly. “He’s not getting me a puppy because Mama says you are.”

  “Really?” Tyler scratched his head. “Did Mama tell you already?”

  “No, she says she doesn’t want a dog.”

  “She didn’t say that,” Ella said. “She wants you to be a big girl and take care of a dog, because she has to take care of the baby.”

  “Oh …” Bree’s shoulders slumped.

  “So, what did you ask Santa for?” Tyler asked.

  “That’s what she’s not telling anyone,” Ella said.

  “Because it’s private,” Bree said. “Even Santa said it was private.”

  “If it’s private, how is he going to give it to you?” Ella asked.

  “Let me guess,” Tyler said. “You asked Santa for a bunny rabbit.”

  “Nope.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t want to clean bunny poop and change the newspaper.”

  “O-okaay …” Ella said. “How about a costume of a snow princess?”

  “Like Elsa in Frozen?” Bree’s eyes gleamed before she shook her head firmly.

  “An artist easel and paints so you can draw more pictures for me,” Tyler said.

  “Nope, but I think Nana’s getting me that. I peeked in the closet.”

  “Wait. Aren’t all gifts coming from Santa?” Tyler lifted his eyebrows. His little girl was growing up. Last year, she thought Santa was all powerful.

  “Only the special one,” Bree said. “They told me that at school.”

  “Oh …” Tyler’s mouth rounded. “And what do the kids in school know about Santa’s secrets?”

  “They say he’s on the internet, and he’s so busy he can only give something you can’t find in a store. Otherwise it’s really your parents who buy the presents.”

  Great. She really was growing up too fast. Soon, he’d be fending off a new threat—teenage boys.

  Sawyer rounded the corner with bags of fast food. He grinned when he spied Ella and Bree.

  “Did you get me a toy?” Bree took the colorful bag from Sawyer.

  “Sure did, and you, miss, I got you a fruit salad,” he said, handing a carton to Ella.

  Finally, he turned to Tyler and gave him a shove. “What are you doing out here? Don’t you want to see your son being born?”

  “I want to see my baby brother,” Bree cut in.

  “Bree and I are waiting out here to not be in the way of the doctors and nurses,” Tyler replied.

  “Get out of here,” Sawyer said. “You have to be in there. You can’t miss it.”

  “Let me take Bree to the mall and get a costume.” Ella took Bree’s hand. “Wouldn’t it be great for your little brother to see a snow princess when he opens his eyes?”

  “Yay!” Bree cheered and waved at Tyler. “I’m going to be a snow princess. Can my baby brother be a gingerbread man?”

  “Of course.” Tyler gave Bree a kiss.

  As soon as Bree and Ella left, Sawyer asked the nurse if Tyler, being the father, could be in the delivery room.

  “It’s pretty crowded in there, but I’ll check if Miss Kennedy is okay with it,” the nurse said and went into the room.

  “Dude, what are you going to do without me?” Sawyer said. “Besides, did I miss something? Because I don’t think she said ‘yes.’”

  “Come on in, Mr. Manning.” The nurse beckoned. “You have a chair at the head of the bed.”

  “Go get her.” Sawyer slapped Tyler’s back. “Close the deal. Meanwhile, I’m going to the mall with the snow princesses. I’ll try and find that Santa dude and shake him down.”

  “Sure.” Tyler punched Sawyer’s arm as a goodbye and followed the nurse through the door. He took a deep breath to fortify himself. Kelly was writhing and gritting her teeth but not screaming. He rushed to her side and took her right hand while her mother held her left.

  “You okay?” He kissed her on the cheek.

  “Where’s Bree?”

  “Ella took her to the mall. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Yes.” She squeezed his hand as her face reddened. “This doesn’t hurt as bad as Bree. The baby’s smaller.”

  He rubbed her hand. “You’re doing great.”

  “Time to push,” a nurse said.

  “Trying.” Kelly squeezed her eyes shut while sweat popped over her forehead.

  A nurse prodded Tyler. “He’s crowning. Can you see?”

  “Is that his head?” Tyler’s eyes widened and warmth flooded his veins at the first sight of his son. “He’s bald.” As a cue-ball.

  “One more push, not too hard,” the doctor said.

  Kelly crunched her mouth into a line and grunted as their little boy wiggled into the doctor’s gloved hands.

  “Waahh!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, swatting at the suction bulbs the nurses tried to stick in his nose. Instantly, pride filled Tyler’s chest. The little fellow was brand new and already a fighter.

  “Kelly, can you see him? He’s so small.” Tyler wanted nothing more than to love and protect this little one.

  “And so precious, our Arman.” Kelly’s face was flushed by happiness. She held out her hands for her newborn son.

  “What a little doll,” Kelly’s mother said. “Arman’s a strong name for a little Manning.”

  The doctor placed Arman, still attached to his umbilical cord, on Kelly’s flattened belly and handed Tyler a pair of snips. “Right here.”

  Kelly held onto the baby while Tyler cut the cord. His son’s soft blue eyes locked onto his gaze while a nurse pulled paper clothes onto him.

  “He’s so tiny.” Tyler looked at his son and compared him to his big hand. “And perfect.”

  “Sir, we’re going to have to put him in the incubator,” the nurse explained. “He seems to be breathing on his own, but we have to take him to the NICU and evaluate him. You can come with us.”

  “Okay, one moment.” Tyler leaned over Kelly and kissed her. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “What was the question?” She grinned as she pulled her left hand from under the sheet. The blue diamond glinted on her finger.

  “Does that mean ‘yes?’”

  “For you, it’s always yes.” Kelly reached for him. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

  “You won’t be rid of me now.” Tyler turned his face and pressed his lips over hers. “Last chance.”

  She kissed him and pushed him away. “Not a chance. I’ll see you in the NICU after they clean me up.”

  Tyler leaned over the bassinet and tickled Arman’s cheek. “She said ‘yes!’ Your mama said ‘yes.’”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ~ Kelly ~

  Two days later, it’s Christmas morning. I was released from the hospital shortly after Arman’s birth, but I stayed there morning until evening at the NICU. I would have stayed overnight had they allowed it, but the NICU was in a
separate building and locked up for the night.

  “Mama. Papa.” Bree barges into our room. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to knock?” I hold out my arms and she jumps onto the bed. Not that Tyler and I are doing anything other than sleep. My blood pressure dropped after the delivery of the placenta, and I was monitored a few hours longer before they let me go.

  “Merry Christmas, Bree.” Tyler gives her a bear hug. “Want to wish your baby brother a Merry Christmas?”

  “Yay, can we bring his puppy?” She claps her hands.

  “Who said anything about him getting a puppy?” I joke with her and give Tyler a wink. This is the worst kept secret this side of Christmas. Meanwhile, Bree’s wish is locked away as deep as George Washington’s gold in Fort Knox.

  I join in the group hug. Next year, our little Arman and the puppy, Brownie, will be here. Next year, we’ll have a full house, and have Christmas at our place, but today, we’ll stop by the hospital first during their shortened visiting hours, then head for my mother’s apartment for the festivities. I suppose we could have left Bree with my mom to wake up Christmas morning and look under the tree for Little Brownie, but I didn’t want to miss their first meeting.

  Besides, she wanted to wish her baby brother a Merry Christmas, and instead of waiting up for Santa the night before, she actually went to bed early so she could make the trip to the hospital. My little girl’s growing up and taking her responsibility of being a big sister seriously.

  “Ready to get dressed for Arman’s first Christmas?” I dangle her Snow Princess costume.

  “Yay. I want to give him a Christmas kiss too, and lick him like a puppy, in case Santa forgot.”

  “Oh, Bree, ye of little faith. Santa never forgets.” Tyler whirls her around for a kiss. “Let’s go brush your teeth and get ready.”

  An hour later, we’re taking a family picture in front of Arman’s incubator at the NICU. Fortunately, he’s breathing on his own, but hanging out under bilirubin lights. He’s tiny, weighing four and a half pounds, but otherwise healthy. We’ll tube feed him for now, since he’s too little for the suck and swallow reflex. I hope to have him home by New Year’s Day.

  “Arman’s so cute,” Bree croons with her nose pressed against the plastic. “Did Santa remember his puppy?”

  “You’ll have to check under the tree for him and let him know.” Tyler holds Bree higher so she can look over the top of the incubator. “See that picture?”

  The neo-natal nurses had encouraged us to bring family pictures to personalize our baby’s incubator. Tyler, of course, taped a snapshot he’d taken in Germany shortly after his rescue.

  “Who’s that boy petting that dog?” Bree asks, looking at a picture of Arman Tarakai and Little Brownie.

  “His name’s also Arman, and he helped Papa get away from the bad guys,” Tyler says.

  “So we have two Arman’s, big and little?” She bounces happily. “Can we have two Bree’s, too? I want a little sister named Bree.”

  “Oh, I think one very special Bree’s all we need.” I kiss her forehead. “Especially since she won’t tell us what she wants for Christmas.”

  “God knows and so does Santa.” Bree sticks her tongue out at me.

  What a little tease. I lean over the incubator and say goodbye to my little Manning. He’s lying there looking cool with his bilirubin shades and a pacifier in his mouth.

  “I love you, Arman Manning.” I blow him a kiss.

  “Merry Christmas, Arman Manning.” Bree waves and tugs my sleeve. “Are we all going to be Mannings, too? I want to be Bree Manning.”

  “You will be.” I glance at Tyler and he winks.

  “Both of you Kennedy girls will be Mannings real soon.” He picks up Bree with one arm and hugs me close with the other. “Let’s go shake Santa down for your gift, little Miss Manning.”

  “Don’t forget Arman’s gift,” Bree pipes cheerily. “I hope he looks just like Big Arman’s puppy.”

  ~ Kelly ~

  “Merry Christmas!” We greet my mother when she opens her apartment door.

  “Merry Christmas.” Voices call from my mother’s crowded apartment. Most of the people from our Thanksgiving dinner are present, except Ella’s boyfriend, Jaden, is absent. Last year, she spent Christmas at his house, but it looks like she’s here today, dressed as a sexy pink elf with a mistletoe choker around her neck.

  “Merry Christmas,” Bree says. “Auntie, that doesn’t look like a Snow Princess costume.”

  “That’s because we only need one Snow Princess, and you’re it,” Ella says, taking Bree’s hand. “Wish everyone a Merry Christmas and let’s see what Santa got you.”

  Bree peers under the tree, but nothing’s moving there, no wiggly puppy, no barks, no little paws. Her lower lip juts out into a slight pout. She gamely goes from person to person and wishes everyone a Merry Christmas, but I can tell she’s about to break down, disappointed. My heart clenches for her, because while I have no idea what she asked Santa for, I do know that Tyler brought Little Brownie back, but he hasn’t told me when we’re picking him up or where he’s hiding him.

  “Merry Christmas, Mama.” Bree hugs me after she finishes greeting Mr. Wong and Mother’s other guests. “I made you a moon rock.”

  She takes a wrapped object from under the tree. “I know you’re always looking at the moon, waiting for Papa.”

  “Ah, how did you know?” A lump rises in my throat and I kiss her, proud of her for not letting her disappointment throw her into a tantrum.

  “Because Nana says you’re always mooning over Papa,” Bree exclaims loudly like she’s a teacher making a point to a particularly dense student.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.” I kiss her and then tear open the package. I can’t help but smile at the clay crescent, pockmarked with holes to look like Swiss Cheese. Bree’s painted it purple with pink sparkles.

  “That’s the most beautiful moon rock ever,” Tyler says, bending over and hugging Bree.

  “Woof, woof!” A bark comes from the kitchen. Finally.

  “A puppy!” Bree squeals, her eyes wide. “For my baby brother?”

  “Ho, ho, ho.” The kitchen door opens and out comes Santa, holding a squirmy brown puppy.

  Ella jumps forward and says, “Why, Santa, how awesome of you to drop by.”

  Bree claps her hands and jumps to her feet. “Santa! You made it.”

  What? How did the Santa from the mall know to come here?

  “Thank you, Santa.” Bree tears toward the man dressed in red with the puppy. She trips on her snow princess train and crashes over the gifts. Brownie squirms out of Santa’s arms. He pounces toward her and gets tangled in the popcorn garland.

  Barking and wagging his tail excitedly, he chomps on the garland, ripping it off the tree before Santa grabs his collar, and Ella helps Bree up.

  I tap Tyler and whisper, “I can’t believe it. You set this up.”

  “No way.” Tyler crosses his arms. “Santa only talks to kids, not grownups.”

  “Have you been a good girl?” Santa brings Little Brownie to Bree. “Are you going to help your brother take care of his puppy?”

  “I will, and I’m a good girl.” Bree jumps up and down hugging Brownie who’s licking her all over her face.

  Her dress rips and her princess crown is all askew on her head, but I’ve never seen her happier.

  “Except what about Bree’s gift?” I whisper to Tyler. “Did you talk to the mall Santa about that, too?”

  “A-aah-emmm!” Santa clears his throat loudly. He puts his hand over Tyler’s shoulder and gives me a wink.

  Something’s up, and from the looks of it, Ella is also in on it. She swings her sexy elf skirt, and announces, “Bree, Santa hasn’t forgotten your gift. If you give him a cookie, I bet he has something for you.”

  Bree claps a hand over her mouth. “The cookies. I forgot.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Santa says, beckoning to her. “Come s
it on my lap and tell your mother what you asked me for.”

  He picks Bree up and ambles to the love seat.

  “What did you ask Santa for?” I sit next to her and straighten her Snow Princess crown.

  “My papa to come home for Christmas.” Bree beams at me proudly and holds her hands out at Tyler.

  “And here I am. Your real father.” He dips over her and kisses her. “Merry Christmas, Bree.”

  I’m ready to melt. My daughter and her father, loving each other. How could I have doubted Bree, that she’d want any other father than Tyler?

  “Merry Christmas, Papa. Except you haven’t given Mama a sperm, so you’re not my real father.”

  What? My heartbeat thunders in my chest and my mouth drops open. I thought she’d accepted Tyler. After all this, she’s still rejecting him?

  Everyone turns toward me and gawks, as if I should have taught Bree better manners.

  Ella giggles and Santa chuckles while Tyler has the nerve to roll his eyes, as if he’s innocent. Little Brownie barks and jumps, putting his paws on Santa’s knee, not wanting to be left out of the consternation.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s given her plenty of that.” My sister wiggles her eyebrows and criss-crosses her two index fingers, signaling that I’ve been very naughty.

  “Your papa hasn’t given your mama that special gift?” Santa says in an exaggerated indignant voice. “We have to do something about it then, don’t we?”

  “Yes. Papa has to give the sperm so I can be his real daughter and he can be my real father.”

  Tyler crouches in front of me, holding back Little Brownie. He has a twinkle in his eye to rival Santa’s. “So, little Bree, you’re expecting me to give your mama something special?”

  “Yes! A sperm. And I want you to kiss Mama when you give it to her.” Bree is so demanding sometimes, wanting everything exactly the way she specifies.

  Everyone hems and coughs, and there are a few suppressed chuckles and giggles. My face is so hot, I’m sure I’m beet red. And I haven’t even had any whiskey egg nog yet.

  Tyler rubs Bree’s back. “What does this sperm look like?”

  “That’s easy,” Bree says. “It’s round and has a long tail. I told Santa I want a purple pink one with a silver tail.”