by Jean Little
What next?
She saw a sign reading TRINKETS AND TREASURES and her spirits rose like singing larks. It sounded like the very place she needed. Trinkets, after all, were small and should not cost too much. Feeling shy suddenly, she opened the door carefully and eased her body through the crack.
“Hi there,” the woman inside said. “Where did you spring from?”
Min wanted to back out again until she saw the warmth in the woman’s smiling eyes.
“I’m Raymah,” she was saying. “You know what? I’ll bet I know you.”
Min began to shake her head when Raymah said, “You’re Min. I forget your other name. Jess Hart was telling me about you and how excited she is that you’ll be with her this Christmas. Also, the hat you are wearing came from this very store. She said she’d send you here.”
Jess must have forgotten, Min thought, but she smiled back at last. “Yes. I’m Min. And I want to get Jess a present,” she confided.
“Well, I can show you the things she picks up and holds and then puts down,” Raymah said. “These beeswax candles, to start with. And this Christmas tree decoration.” She was holding up a tiny pair of carved wooden shoes.
Min looked at the things. Then, on the counter, she saw a ceramic dog dish. On the side it said YUM!
“How much is this?” she asked, touching it with one mittened hand.
“Eight dollars,” Raymah told her. “A friend makes them for me. But Jess doesn’t have a dog, does she?”
Next thing Min knew, she was pouring out the story of finding Emily and bringing her home. She was amazed at how easy it was to tell this Raymah all about the rescue, as though she, Min, had always been a chatterbox.
“For Emily, I’ll sell it to you for five,” Raymah said, putting the bowl into a bag. “How about a catnip mouse for Maude? You don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“No,” Min said, taking it from her. Then she found a little carved wooden angel with outstretched arms that she decided to give to Mrs. Willis. She spent all her money in Raymah’s shop except for the coins, and was on her way out when she caught sight of a pad of drawing paper with a box of pencil crayons propped invitingly beside it. She hesitated. Then she went back and asked Raymah how much they cost.
“How much have you got left?” Raymah asked, her eyes sparkling.
Min told her.
“This is your lucky day,” the woman said, putting the drawing things into a paper bag. “But it will cost you your last penny.”
Min was pretty sure Raymah was not telling her the full price, but she could not bring herself to protest. She took the bag, added it to the rest of her things and gave the woman a smile very few people had ever glimpsed. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“Merry Christmas, Min,” Raymah said, smiling back.
Min put the things she had purchased carefully into the tote bag she had bought earlier. She felt herself smiling with immense satisfaction. Each thing she had bought was a treasure, not a mere trinket. Her tote said Reading Matters on it. Min thought reading did matter. She was halfway through Chance and the Butterfly. Her heart ached for Chance even though he was much younger than she was.
When she got home, the winter dark was drawing in, making the bare trees a bit frightening as they rattled their stripped branches in the strengthening wind. Her red hat kept her ears warm as toast, but her nose felt raw and her cheeks stung. The door was locked so she used her key, feeling proud all over again. Yet when she got inside, she was foolishly disappointed to find no Jess waiting to welcome her.
Then the phone rang. She hesitated, sure it would not be for her, but picked it up just as Jess’s answering machine clicked on. She was hanging up when she heard the veterinarian’s voice sounding troubled. She stiffened and listened.
“Jess,” he said, “It’s Jack. I thought I should warn you. The little Peke nearly died this afternoon. We kept her heart beating, but she may well die before you bring the kids out here after Christmas. I thought you should be prepared. She’s alive now but very weak. She’s had a rough —”
The machine cut him off before he had finished his sentence. Min hung up the receiver and undid her coat with numb fingers. Should she tell Jess? She didn’t think she could. She went into her room and lay face down on the bed, weeping into her pillow.
When Jess came home, she found Min asleep for the second time that day. She was about to waken her so that she would not have trouble falling asleep later, when she noticed the pile of soggy Kleenex next to her hand. Leaving her be, she greeted Maude and checked for telephone messages.
After listening to Jack’s worried voice reporting on Emily, she understood. She went into the living room and, letting the cat settle in her lap, sat and thought deeply. Christmas was the day after tomorrow. It would be Min’s first real one. A day of festivity and celebration to make up for all the miserable Christmases that Min had endured before, was what Jess had planned. But how could they celebrate if Emily was to die on Christmas Eve?
The telephone interrupted her reverie. “Hold on, Laura. I’ll take the call in my study,” she murmured.
The phone’s ringing woke Min. She sat up and tried to look as if she were feeling fine.
Jess hung up, came to her door and smiled at her. “I thought I was finished shopping, but I have one more errand to run later. How did you get along?”
The look of dull misery dropped from Min’s face like a discarded Hallowe’en mask. Her dark eyes shone with excitement. “I have something for everyone, even Mrs. Willis,” she said. “I can’t show you yours, of course, but would you like to see what I found for Toby and Maude and Mrs. Willis … and Emily.”
“Show me,” Jess said. “I can hardly wait.”
Leaving the drawing things hidden, Min pulled out the dog bowl without a word and, setting it aside, displayed first the catnip mouse and then the paperback dog book she had found for Toby. Last, she produced the wooden angel.
“Perfect, Min,” Jess said. She batted Maude Motley’s nose away from the bag containing her mouse. “Not yet, cat. Have you no sense of occasion?”
After displaying each present ceremoniously, Min hid them all away in her dresser drawer.
“Come and eat,” Jess said as she returned. “I brought some fast food home with me. Let’s take it and eat in front of the fireplace. This is the sort of day that needs rounding out with a fire.”
Min opened her mouth to mention the call from the veterinarian and then took a bite of hamburger instead. She did not want to cry in front of Jess. If she did, she might be unable to keep herself strong and all in one piece. If she kept bursting into tears she would lose control. She felt, without knowing why, that if she lost control, she might lose her self somehow and never be able to find it again.
Maude jumped up and butted her head against the edge of Min’s empty plate.
“Hope springs eternal in that creature,” Jess said. “Harden your heart, Min. Push her off.”
Min showed Maude the empty plate and apologized instead. The cat gave her a sorrowful glance and dropped to the floor with a thud.
After supper, Jess disappeared into her study. Min caught the murmur of her voice talking to someone on the phone. “Oh, I was sure I would be too late. You are wonderful,” she heard. “I know I’m crazy, but so are you. I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t let anyone else have her. Yes, I know I want her sight unseen.”
Her? Who was this her?
Min felt distinctly uneasy as she turned the word over in her mind. What on earth was Jess up to now? Not another foster daughter! That would be unthinkable. She already had to share Jess with a godson.
The person thought Jess was crazy, though. That might refer to another needy kid’s moving in.
She trailed after Jess from the moment she reappeared, hoping for a reassuring explanation, but none came. She did seem to be grinning but, after all, Christmas was practically here.
“I have one last errand to run,” Jess said when the hour was
almost up. “But I’ll be right back.”
“Would you like me to come with you?” Min asked, doing her best to sound casual, staring at the hall carpet.
“Not this time, but thanks for offering. Get your pajamas on and we can watch the new Christmas DVD I picked up this afternoon.”
While Jess was away, Min got out the paper and drawing pencils. She sat on her bed, knees drawn up, with the light shining down on what she was drawing, and concentrated on making a picture she had dreamed up on her walk home. She made two false starts and almost gave up in despair. Then, suddenly, her hand seemed to catch on to what she wanted and the idea began to flower on her page. She smiled. If only it came out right, she knew Jess would like having it.
Jess was back in an hour. Min moved like lightning to hide her picture. It needed a few finishing touches, but otherwise it was fine. Then she sped out to inspect whatever Jess had gone to get. But Jess’s hands were empty. No mysterious bundles. It was very strange. No “her.” Min heaved a sigh, half impatience, half relief.
“Let’s leave the movie and go to bed instead,” Jess said, catching Min stifling a yawn. “I am reading a great book. Tomorrow night will be Christmas Eve, you know, and there won’t be time to spare — not even for Barbara Kingsolver.”
“What’s it called?” Min asked idly.
Jess laughed. “Pigs in Heaven,” she said. “It’s about a young woman who finds a baby and ends up adopting her. Well, it’s the second book about her. Good night. Sleep well, daughter.”
Min turned out her light obediently and waited until she was sure Jess was safely settled in her own room. Then she tiptoed to her dresser and eased out her picture. It was still good. Pushing away Maude’s inquisitive nose, she went back to work and spent great care adding the final touches. When it was as good as she could make it, she hid it again and went to bed to think once more about the mysterious “her” who was coming. But she couldn’t work up any real worry, not while she had her picture to think about. Soon she drifted off despite her excitement. And, even though a nightmare did hover on the edge of her slumber, a huge calico cat, the size of a lion but called Sugarplum, fought off the threatening darkness and purred her into a peaceful sleep.
9
The Mysterious “Her”
THE NEXT MORNING, Sybil Willis came over with a box of Christmas cookies she had baked for them. They were wonderful, all different shapes, iced — and yummy.
After they had sampled some, Min presented Mrs. Willis with a box containing the carving of the small wooden angel with her arms out, flying for all she was worth. She had wrapped the box with great care and written on a card, This is what you are to unhappy children.
Jess, when shown the card earlier, had given Min a quizzical look. “It would delight her if you added especially me to the message,” she said gently. “And it would be true, wouldn’t it? Sybil has been standing up for you ever since I’ve known the two of you.”
“I guess,” Min said grudgingly. She had thought the card was fine, and it wasn’t Jess’s business.
“Sorry,” Jess said. “It is a perfect gift and a lovely message. Sometime I may learn when to keep my mouth shut."
Min had kept her back turned and placed the package at the base of the Christmas tree. She felt something hard inside her balk at her own sudden wish to agree and say she would add Jess’s words. Why should she? The angel was from her, not Jess. And she had been so pleased with what she had written. She clamped her lips together and did not answer.
But later on, when Jess was not watching, she had gone back and added the two words, knowing they were exactly right.
When Mrs. Willis saw the angel, she smiled. When she read the message, her eyes filled with tears that she hastily brushed away. She held out the card for Jess to read and Jess’s eyes met Min’s in a wordless smile. Not noticing, Sybil Willis went on. “I know what you think of people who weep, Min. Wimps. But sometimes it can’t be helped.”
Thrown off balance, Min had no answer ready and just let her smile grow to take in both women.
Parcels had been arriving at the door and in the mail even on the day before Christmas. Most were for Jess, of course, but at least four were for Min — one from Jess, one from Maude, one from Toby and later, another one from Jess. Min was eaten up with curiosity. She could not remember being given anything before that was not dull and totally sensible. They had never been meaningful things chosen especially with her in mind. These were bound to be different. She shook the parcels gently and squeezed them and even held them up to her nose. But she could not be sure of any of the contents, and Christmas morning still seemed years away.
“It’s Christmas Eve tonight,” she reminded herself — but it still sounded as though it would stretch out forever.
When Christmas Eve itself finally did arrive, Jess showed her a large felt Christmas stocking decorated with snowflakes and with Min’s name written with fabric paint at the top. She hung it in front of the fireplace with her own and Maude’s and one for Toby.
“Oh, I haven’t filled you in,” Jess said suddenly. “Laura phoned. Toby’s father couldn’t get a flight until the day after Boxing Day, and as I said, Laura’s leaving tonight with the twins. Toby’s going to the airport with them to help Laura get safely as far as Security with the girls and the luggage. Then, when they’re gone, he’ll get dropped off here late tonight. He has a key, of course, so he’ll let himself in and go right up to bed without waking us. That’s the plan, anyway.”
“I wonder if the twins are excited,” Min said, calling their small eager faces to mind. Too bad Toby wasn’t going with his mother and leaving Maggot and Grace behind. It would be fun celebrating Christmas with two such comical, lively children.
“So Toby will be staying with us a bit longer than he thought,” Jess went on. “He’ll go off with Patrick when he finally arrives. Patrick doesn’t always get things arranged far enough ahead of time. Baxter, on the other hand, invariably has every detail organized. He must be a bit daunted by all this changing, but it is his mother’s doing, not his wife’s.”
“Oh,” Min said, half listening.
Her stomach felt strange. She was not sure why. But she knew it was mostly compounded of pleasure and panic. How would she and Toby hit it off stuck in the same house for days? Would he still mind her horning in? She stared at the stockings hung by the fireplace with care and hoped she would know what to do when the time came.
She woke once, just after midnight, and went to her window to gaze up at the starry sky. Words, which had not registered in her mind before, sang in her head now. It really was “a midnight clear.” An icy draft chilled her bare feet and she jumped back into her warm bed and curled herself up into a cocoon of sleep. She woke once again, but stayed in bed, her eyes firmly shut, not wanting to wake up properly until morning.
It seemed only a moment later that she heard Jess’s voice singing, “O come, all ye faithful.” Min kept her eyes shut and exulted in the knowledge that Christmas had dawned at last.
Then a soft wiggling weight plumped down onto her chest and she opened her eyes to see the small jet-black face of a Pekingese puppy staring down at her.
Min stared back, convinced she was dreaming. It couldn’t be real. Then the puppy licked her nose. The soft wet tongue was very real indeed.
“Who …? What …?” Min stammered, shrugging free of her covers so she could reach out and hold onto the warm bundle. “Who …?”
She couldn’t be dreaming. But she couldn’t understand any of it either.
The puppy leaned down and gave Min’s chin a quick lick. Then it shook its head briskly so that its ears flew out to either side.
Jess was laughing too hard to speak. Or perhaps crying. Her eyes were suspiciously wet.
“Who …?” Min squeaked again, cradling the small warm puppy in both hands and sitting bolt upright so she could get a closer look and a better grip.
“Merry Christmas, Min. I don’t know who she is. The
y’ve been calling her Jill but you’ll have to christen her properly. I don’t think Jill fits. She’s eight weeks old and she weighs two pounds. She’s a brindle Peke with a blond tail. If she doesn’t grow much bigger, she’ll be a sleeve dog. I think she is adorable, myself. But she’s not mine, she’s yours.”
“Oh, Jess … she’s … she’s the most beautiful —”
The puppy bounced up and batted Min on the chin with her tiny paw, not letting her finish. Min caught the foot in her fingers. It felt so soft, as though it were made of yarn instead of muscle and bone. Afraid of hurting her, Min let go instantly.
“Come on, both of you. She wants to see what’s in her stocking.”
“Did Toby come?” Min asked.
“Yes, but he didn’t arrive until almost midnight. I was afraid your puppy would wake up so I didn’t get up to say hello. I wanted you to see her first.”
Min could not think how to tell her how grateful she was that she had met her puppy before Toby laid eyes on her. She kissed the top of the pup’s head and sent a look of intense happiness at Jess.
Jess grinned back and gave her braid a gentle tug. “I’ll bet the boy joins us in no time. He hasn’t reached the stodgy adult stage of wanting to sleep late on Christmas morning,” she said.
Min had scrambled out of bed. She now put her slippers and dressing gown on without once letting go of her incredible wiggly present. She did not believe in the puppy yet, but snuggling her close, she tipped the small face up to her cheek with one finger and murmured love words as she trailed Jess across the hall.
“Put her down quietly and let Maude look her over. I kept the puppy shut up all night in the little room off the kitchen, and Maude Motley has been driven mad by the puppy noises and smells,” Jess said.
Min sank to the floor and put the tiny dog down on the carpet. Maude hissed and her tail stuck straight up like an exclamation point.