He blew out a breath. What was he thinking? What was going on with him? Was he so lonely that he was falling for the first woman he’d given the time of day to since Kim had left him?
Another wave of confusion washed over him. What did he want, if anything, from Maggie? Why had he so readily availed himself to her, when until recently, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with the opposite sex?
He needed time to sort things out. “Uh, well, I’d better get going,” he said too brightly. “I’m sure you have things to do, and I have a few things to take care of too.”
“Oh, okay, well, thanks again for all your help,” Maggie said.
She watched him thoughtfully, and he knew she’d sensed the change in him. She was too perceptive not to have. But it couldn’t be helped. He was as determined to protect her as much as himself from further pain. It wouldn’t be fair to give her false hope that the two of them might possibly embark upon a relationship, particularly when she had a child to think about.
“Do you have to leave, John?” Rickey asked, sounding disappointed.
“I really do have to get moving.” His heart nearly broke when he saw Rickey’s downcast eyes. “Hey, I’ll stop by and say ‘hello’ sometime this week.”
A moment later, as he climbed into his truck, he nearly leaned forward and banged his head repeatedly against the steering wheel. He’d essentially resolved to step away from Maggie and her son, at least until he sorted out his feelings, but he had promptly told little Rickey he’d stop by to see him soon.
As he turned the key and started the truck, and then pulled away from the curb and into the street—away from the little house where Maggie and Rickey lived—he realized something else. He wished he was still inside with them, particularly when he arrived home and found Kim standing at the top of the exterior stairway leading to his small apartment.
He heaved a sigh, wishing anyone but Kim was standing there. He had no interest in talking to her, but that fact wouldn’t matter one iota to her.
“Johnny, it’s so good to see you. I was beginning to think you were never coming home.” She checked her watch. “I don’t have much time.”
“Why?” he asked, though he really didn’t care.
“Alex is golfing today, but he won’t be much longer.”
“So he doesn’t know you’re here?”
She gave him a frustrated look. “Johnny, don’t be obtuse.”
“Kim, don’t be ridiculous.” He sighed. “You need to go. I have no interest in talking to you. I’ve moved on.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth compressed in a hard line. John braced for the fit of temper he knew was coming. Somehow, she managed to remain calm. “I’ve grown, Johnny. I’ve grown up,” she said crisply, and gave a shrug. “Imagine that!”
She gave a tremulous sigh and he saw genuine sorrow in her eyes. “I made a mistake. And I guess it’s like they say, you don’t know what you have until you lose it.”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to respond. Kim’s apparent epiphany meant nothing to him or for him. He was moving on. Finally.
“I’m going inside.”
“May I come in?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“It’s probably best we not talk today anyway. Alex is expecting me home.”
“I don’t want to talk with you again,” he said firmly. “It’s better if we both move on.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I’m afraid I do.” Frustrated, John turned and unlocked his door. “Goodbye, Kim.”
***
“How many days until Christmas, Mama?” Rickey asked.
“Uh, fourteen,” Maggie told him, as she finished loading the dishwasher. She rose and glanced around the kitchen, and satisfied it was clean, walked briskly toward the stairs to the second story of the house. “Honey, I’m going to take a shower and get ready for bed early tonight. Will you be all right watching television down here until bedtime? I’ll hurry.”
“Sure,” he said agreeably, pleased he was getting additional TV time.
He turned to his favorite kiddy channel and eased back on the sofa with Pocomo in his arms.
Within a moment or two, he heard a strange sound outside. Pocomo heard it too, since his ears perked.
“What is it, boy?” Rickey murmured.
The little dog emitted a low growl.
Rickey rose from the couch, setting Pocomo down on one of the cushions. The dog remained hyper-alert as Rickey tiptoed across the room and eased back the blinds on the sliding door. He gasped. A little lamb was standing at the door, its black nose pressed against the glass.
“Hello, little guy,” he said softly, and glanced behind him. Was his mother coming? Had she already finished her shower?
He hurriedly flipped on the outdoor light, to assure the tiny lamb was all alone. He glanced out at the lawn and saw that, indeed, the lamb hadn’t brought any friends with him.
He gently opened the door and crouched down, nose to nose with the animal. “What are you doing here, little guy?” he asked, glancing around the yard again.
The lamb let out a “baahhhhh.”
“Baahhhhh,” Rickey answered, and then reached out and gathered the baby lamb against him. He struggled to stand with the animal in his arms. Finally managing to get upright, he teetered slightly, but found his footing.
He grinned into the lamb’s adorable face. “I like you better than the camel and the donkey,” he whispered. “I’m sure Mama will too.”
His eyes widened as an idea formed. Maybe, if he was quiet, and the lamb remained quiet, he could hide it in his bedroom and keep it.
It was too cold outside for that baby lamb to be running around all alone. And what if something happened to it? He knew of several big dogs in the neighborhood. It could get hurt if he didn’t protect it.
He walked to the stairway and began climbing, careful not to make any sound. At the top of the stairs, he paused, listening. He heard the sound of running water in the shower, and knew he had time to slip into his room.
Inside, he looked around, uncertain what to do with the lamb until his mom went to her bedroom for the night.
The closet!
He carried the lamb to his closet and pulled open the door. He kicked aside shoes and toys, and set the lamb down. He dashed back to his bed and grabbed one of his two pillows. He returned to the closet and placed the pillow on the closet floor. He urged the lamb to lie down.
He smiled with relief when it obliged, letting out a tiny “baahhhhh” and settling comfortably on the pillow.
When he no longer heard the sound of running water, he rose and gently eased the closet door closed. He paused briefly and pressed his ear to the door. The lamb remained silent, but he doubted it would for long.
He turned and ran out of his bedroom and to his mother’s room. He knocked on the door and listened intently. “Mama,” he called.
“Come in, honey.”
He turned the knob and walked into her room. She was already dressed and running a brush through her hair.
“G’night, Mama. I think I’ll go to bed now.”
She gave him an assessing glance. Since when did he go to bed without having to be told? Maybe like her, he was exhausted.
It had been a long work week for them both. Rickey had counted on John visiting, but he hadn’t managed to stop by.
Maggie felt bad for her son, but seeing how upset he had become when John failed to visit, she realized it was probably for the best that he stayed away.
It broke her heart when she realized that her son had bonded with John so quickly. She knew he missed his father terribly. Having John around, even briefly, had shown her how much her son yearned for a male figure in his life. It had also cemented her resolve that she would never allow Rickey to get close to anyone. Maybe, someday, she would be ready to date again and perhaps marry, but until then, she wouldn’t put her son through the roller-coaster ride of bonding with and then losing someone he�
�d grown to care about.
His well-being remained her first priority.
She smoothed a hand through his hair. “You’re tired, huh?”
He nodded and yawned. “Yes.”
“Okay, then. Go on to bed and I’ll be in in a minute to say your prayers with you.”
“Can we say them right now? In here?”
She gave him a questioning look, but nodded. “Sure, if you’d like.”
He knelt down beside her bed and began praying. He spoke so quickly, she could scarcely keep up with him. She gave him a bewildered look, but also said a brief prayer.
With an enthusiastic ‘Amen,’ he jumped to his feet and dashed out of her room. “Love you! See you in the morning. You don’t have to come into my room or anything to tuck me in. I’m growing up, you know!”
She watched after him, frowning. He was five! Why did he suddenly prefer that she not come into his room to tuck him in? She wasn’t ready to give up their nighttime routine. But for tonight, she decided to allow him to go to bed, without her hovering. Maybe he was trying to exert a little independence. Maybe that was a good thing.
She left her bedroom and hurried downstairs to assure the house was locked down for the night. She turned off the television and picked up Pocomo. She carried him upstairs. He began wriggling in her arms and let out a low growl.
“What’s going on with you?” she muttered softly.
He responded by planting a kiss on her lips, but continued to make a strange sound that seemed to emanate from the back of his throat.
Inside her bedroom again, Maggie put the little dog down on her bed. He stood motionless at the foot of the mattress, staring toward the closed bedroom door. He let out another low growl.
“Pocomo! Enough,” Maggie scolded, though she wondered what had his ire up. She perked her ears, but heard nothing.
With a final growl, the little dog walked to the top of her bed and began turning in a tight circle. Finally, he dropped down and lowered his head. He continued staring toward the door with watchful eyes.
Maggie flipped off the lamp beside her bed and lay down. Her head had no sooner touched the pillow than her doorbell rang. Pocomo began barking and charged toward the closed door.
She rose up, her brows furrowed in a frown. Who would be stopping by tonight? It was only a few minutes after nine, but still…
Tugging her robe off the back of a chair in her room, she slipped into it and tied it tightly around her waist. She picked up the Chihuahua and walked downstairs, trying not to make any noise. She didn’t want to wake Rickey, since he’d apparently fallen asleep already. Were he awake, he would have already run down the stairs.
Before she could answer the door, the doorbell rang a second time, and then a third. She glanced back, certain Rickey would soon be barreling down the stairs. But she didn’t hear a sound from him.
She didn’t immediately pull open the front door, but instead looked through a small window that flanked it. She saw a patrol car parked at the curb. Had someone spotted a prowler in the area? Is that why Pocomo was behaving so strangely?
She opened the door and found John on the small front porch. He nodded a greeting.
“Hi.” She glanced around, her features concerned. “Is everything all right?”
“I hope so. Have you had any unwanted animals show up tonight?”
“No. We’re finally having a quiet Friday evening. Thank goodness.”
He appeared to notice her robe. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?’ He checked his watch.
“Rickey and I were tired, so we went to bed early,” she explained, feeling slightly disoriented. It was odd seeing him again. She felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach, and hated to acknowledge what it meant. She missed John—perhaps as much as Rickey did.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he said, his eyes lingering on her face.
She averted her face—feeling awkward and exposed.
He sensed her discomfiture and stepped back, as if to leave.
“What animal went AWOL tonight?” she asked suddenly, bringing him to a stop.
“A little lamb.”
Maggie nodded, and then felt a niggling feeling that something was amiss. “A little lamb?” she repeated, her eyes now riveted on his face.
“Yes.”
“How little?” she asked, wondering…
“I haven’t seen it myself, but…”
She raised a finger, gesturing for him to give her a minute. He nodded and stepped into the foyer, closing the door behind him.
She turned and went upstairs to Rickey’s room. She was surprised to find he’d closed his bedroom door. As she pushed it open, she heard a strange sound that brought her to a stop.
“Baaahhhhh.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she muttered, as she reached for the light switch beside the door. She flipped it on and the room was bathed in light.
Rickey bolted up in the bed and watched her wide-eyed and looking as guilty as a kid with his hand in a cookie jar. The lamb, beside him, raised its head and gave a friendly “baaahhhhh” before settling itself against the little boy again.
Maggie wagged a warning finger at her son, and then called down the stairs. “John, would you mind coming up here for a moment?”
“Sure.” He climbed the stairs and stepped into the bedroom. His eyes immediately lit on the lamb.
He attempted to suppress a smile, but blanked his face, and promptly rearranged his features into a sterner expression when Maggie gave him a dirty look. He cleared his throat. “Ricky, what is that lamb doing in your bed?” he demanded.
“He’s mine!” he cried. “He came to the back door and he’s so little… I couldn’t leave him outside.”
“Rickey,” Maggie said tiredly. “He doesn’t belong to you.”
“Mama, he didn’t kick the house, or spit on me, or tear up the grass, or sneeze on me or anything. He’s really nice. Please let him stay.” He grinned winningly. “I figure I can take him to school with me. Mary did!”
She shook her head, confused. “What?”
“You know! Mary had a little lamb… It followed her to school one day…”
“Oh, heaven help me,” she muttered. “Ricky, you cannot take that lamb to school.”
“We have guinea pigs there. Why not a lamb, too?”
“You’re not taking him anywhere, and you are most definitely not keeping a lamb in your bed,” she said firmly.
“Okay!” he said agreeably, “I’ll keep him in the closet.”
Maggie turned toward John and met his gaze. His brown eyes were twinkling with humor. “Help me here,” she said with frustration.
“Rickey, I’m afraid the lamb needs to go back to his animal friends,” John said.
The little boy shook his head. “John, if he wanted them, he would have stayed with them,” he said, jutting out his lower lip in defiance. “He’s mine.” He draped a protective arm around the little animal. “He’s my new friend since you’re not my friend anymore,” he said sadly, with a pronounced pout on his face.
“Ah, Rickey…” he sighed, feeling horrible for essentially failing to keep a promise to the little boy.
“The lamb has to go,” Maggie said firmly, clapping her hands together. She gave a nod in John’s direction and he reached for the animal.
Rickey flew out of the bed. “Give him back! He’s mine! I love him and he loves me!”
“Rickey,” Maggie warned. “Stay here. You and I are going to have a talk.”
John carried the lamb down the stairs. He set it on its feet and quickly dialed the owner. After hanging up, he turned his attention to Rickey, who had come downstairs with Maggie. He bent down at eye level to the little boy. “I understand you care about this lamb, but he isn’t meant to live in a house.”
“Why not?”
“Because he was meant to be outside, with all of his friends. That’s why he wears a wool coat.”
“Really?”
“Real
ly.”
When someone knocked on the door, John picked up the lamb and carried it to the door. He opened it and passed the lamb to an awaiting man. He didn’t bother making small talk with him. If the guy couldn’t keep track of his animals, he had no business loaning them to a live nativity scene. Rickey was right. The baby lamb could have been badly hurt.
John closed the door, and Maggie rejoined him there. “Thanks for coming by. If you hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have found the lamb until morning.”
He laughed lightly. “You’ll probably want to change out Rickey’s bedding.”
“Yep. That was my first thought,” she admitted, and then turned to her son. “Upstairs, young man.” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “Change your pajamas and climb into my bed. I’ll have to change out your bedding tomorrow. I’m too tired tonight,” she finished wearily.
He appeared as if he might argue, but then stomped up the stairs in a huff. Maggie turned back to John. “Thanks again.”
He nodded and reached for the doorknob, but paused, and turned back to catch her gaze. “How was your week?” he asked.
“Fine,” she answered crisply.
“My, uh, week was busy,” he said.
She nodded. “I imagine things get more hectic in your line of work as the holiday approaches.”
He nodded again. “Yes.”
“Well, all right then…”
“Okay.” He reached for the doorknob, but once again, refrained from turning it to allow himself out. Instead, he turned and looked into her eyes. She read a question in the depths of his irises, and couldn’t for the life of her discern what he was asking.
His gaze lingered for a moment, but when his face came closer, she didn’t register his intent was to kiss her, until his warm lips merged with her own. He pressed with a gentle insistence, deepening the kiss, until…
Common sense prevailed. He pulled back, eyes wide with alarm. He’d just kissed a woman, and while on the job. What was happening to him?
The Happiest Season Page 10