Doc Pelot pointed to his young friend across the room. “We have decided to call our little enterprise the Todd McCray Foundation in honor of that good-looking feller in the red tennis shoes leaning against the wall with that black hound of his. All of you know that Todd has saved and enriched the lives of hundreds, maybe even thousands, of animals in this county. And because of that he has improved the lives of a whole lot of humans, too. That’s why we’d like to name this endeavor after him. Susan, can you also explain what this foundation will do?”
Susan Reeves stepped in front of her two elderly clients. “Doc Pelot has donated the five acres where his old vet clinic sits out by the highway. Hank Fisher has donated the first forty thousand dollars toward the construction of a brand-new animal shelter to be owned and operated by the foundation. We’re going to need to raise more, but that’s an excellent start.”
“There are a few more pieces you need to know about,” Hank said.
“We need two hundred thousand dollars, so we’ve got a ways to go. I know it’s a lot for this community to raise, and it’ll take some time. That said, we’ve raised more money for other things in the past, and I think we can do it again.”
There were excited whispers and more applause from the small gathering.
It suddenly got quiet, and Todd realized that many guests were looking his way. He wasn’t exactly sure what all of this meant, but he knew that some very special gifts had just been given, and that finally there was good news for the shelter. He looked out across the room at the many people he had come to know and love. Like his father taught him, he kept it simple. “Thank you very much.”
George and Mary Ann stepped beside him and each put an arm around the young man they loved so much. Mary Ann leaned over and kissed Todd on the cheek. Hayley, Laura, and Gracie worked their way to the front of the room and stood next to Doc Pelot. Todd bent down and accepted a canine kiss of gratitude from Gracie.
With tears in her eyes, Hayley said, “Todd, we’re all so proud of you.”
Doc Pelot continued, “Like I said, I’m donating the ground, and, as Laura Jordan and Hank have discussed, we always felt like the shelter should have some kind of a monument or sign in front of it that will speak to our mission. Laura talked her father into helping us out.”
It was Laura’s turn. With her left hand resting on Hank’s shoulder and her right clasping the support bar on Gracie’s vest, she spoke to the guests. “My dad spent all day yesterday in his woodworking shop. My family would like to donate a sign for our new shelter. It could be located out in the yard of Doc’s old vet clinic, right where you turn off the old highway, so people could see it.”
Laura’s father and George moved from the back of the room carrying the rectangular object still hidden beneath the big green blanket. A space was cleared so they could move close to Hank. Laura took the edge of the blanket in her hand and then offered it to Gracie. “Gracie! Tug!” she commanded. The dog gave the blanket a big yank. Everyone gasped upon seeing the carefully crafted and painted sign. It read:
The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.
—MOHANDAS GANDHI
Just to the right of Gandhi’s words was a drawing of a thermometer marked at ten-thousand-dollar increments. At the top the sign read TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS—OUR GOAL. The thermometer was filled in with red up to the “$40,000” mark.
When Laura started to choke up, her father finished for her. “It’s not too fancy, but it says all we need it to say.”
Doc Pelot made his pitch. He pointed to the red area on the sign. “As you can see, Hank has seeded the pot with forty thousand dollars.” After another brief round of applause, the old vet continued, “It’s a very generous start, but I want to encourage each of you to dig into your checkbooks and make a contribution when you can. Susan has agreed to act as our treasurer, so she can accept funds.”
George took Mary Ann’s hand and addressed the small crowd. “This is a wonderful surprise for our family. Whether or not Crossing Trails has an animal shelter may not seem that important to the bigger world out there, but to our community, and especially to Todd McCray, it is very important.” Then he cracked a broad grin. “In the meantime, if anyone is in dire need of a dog, I’ll get my coat on and show you what we’ve got out in the barn.”
TWO DAYS later, on the morning of Christmas Eve, the McCray children and grandchildren started to arrive for the family’s own holiday event. The level of excitement slowly built as the day progressed. By two in the afternoon, Mary Ann wondered if the walls of their old farmhouse could contain so much energy.
“George, why don’t you take the kids outside to play until dinner is ready? I bet they would enjoy seeing what you’re keeping in the barn,” Mary Ann suggested loudly. Then she lowered her voice and said to her husband, “I can’t hear myself think!” As much as the senior McCrays adored their seven grandchildren, and even though they had raised five children of their own, they never failed to be astounded at the noise level of the next generation.
“Great idea.” George put on his hat and coat and called into the living room, “I’m going outside to play. Anyone want to come with me?”
The grandchildren all began to scream excitedly and stampeded into the kitchen. “Yeah! We want to go.”
George pointed to the pile of coats, mittens, and scarves by the back door. “Put on your gear and I’ll meet you out by the barn.”
George and Christmas were both moving a little more slowly after a rambunctious morning with the kids. As George opened the old barn door and looked inside, he let out a very long breath as if to summon up more energy. He motioned to the children spilling out the back door of the house. “Come over here. I want to show you something.”
With the children behind him, George stepped into the barn. “We’re keeping some extra dogs here now, just until we can find them homes.” He showed each of the shelter dogs to the grandchildren. As he was conducting the tour, Todd passed through the barn door, ready to help. He had spent most of the day with Laura and had just arrived for the Christmas Eve meal.
For the McCray grandchildren, their uncle Todd was almost as interesting as the shelter dogs. They gathered around him, clamoring for hugs, and yelling, “Me! Me next!” He tickled, spun, and wrestled them to the ground. When they got back to the business of the barn tour, Todd took each dog out and provided a more private greeting.
With her usual impeccable timing, George and Mary Ann’s only daughter, Hannah, was the next one through the barn door. She had driven down from a suburb of Kansas City. She too was greeted by an excited throng screaming and yelling, “Aunt Hannah!”
Once the grandchildren had gotten their hugs, they dispersed to play in the barn. George put one arm around Hannah and the other around Todd as they stood by the cages. Hannah had heard some of the details by phone from Mary Ann, but she was excited to get the scoop directly from Todd.
“I can’t believe they’re going to name the shelter foundation after my baby brother!” She squeezed him. “I’m so proud of you. I bet Laura is proud, too.”
Todd beamed. “She’s proud.”
“I hear the dairy offered you a spot. What are you going to do now that the shelter will reopen someday?”
Todd set his jaw in an expression that made George suspect that Todd was not ready to address his sister’s question. The tension in Todd’s jaw relaxed and he said, “I don’t know.”
George looked at Todd, somewhat surprised, and asked the next logical question. “If you don’t work at the dairy, what are you going to do?” George looked at the dwindling population of dogs. “Is the city going to continue to pay you to help operate the temporary shelter?”
Todd shook his head. “No. The mayor told Hayley that I should not count on that. They may be able to keep Hayley part-time for a little while longer to help you. That’s all the money they have for now.”
George tried to give Todd a li
ttle nudge. “So, Todd, why not take the dairy job until we get the shelter up and going again? It could easily take a year or two to raise that much money and construct a building. Maybe that would work out great. Just something for now?”
Todd looked away from his father and said, “Laura and I have to decide.”
George looked at his son curiously. Hannah took her father by the elbow, led him further down the aisle, and said, “He’ll work it out.” She reached down and lifted the latch to one of the cages. A little black terrier burst out of the cage. Hannah had to move quickly to grab him. “He’s so cute, Todd. What’s his name?”
“That’s Ranger.”
“Tell me about him!” Hannah demanded.
“He’s about two years old. He’s been neutered. He has a lot of energy.” He remembered a phrase that someone had used to describe dogs like Ranger and continued, “He’s strong-willed, but he’s not very good at caroling.”
“Caroling?”
George interrupted, “Don’t ask.”
Hannah held the little furry dog close to her. “He’s adorable.”
“We can make you a deal!” George offered.
Todd took Ranger from Hannah and gave him a hug. “It takes him about an hour to settle down, but then he’s great!”
Mary Ann pushed open the barn door. Hannah’s face lit up with joy. She ran over to her mother and gave her a big hug.
Hannah’s enthusiasm for life was written all over her face, and Mary Ann’s face reflected it right back. She looked over her daughter’s shoulders at her husband, youngest son, and grandchildren. “Dinner is about ready. Why don’t you all come up to the house?” Mary Ann grabbed a couple of the older children and turned them toward the barn door. Every bit the schoolteacher, she had this routine down pat. “Run up to the house and leave your shoes on the back porch—hats, coats, and gloves in Todd’s old room.”
She looked back at Todd, who was putting the terrier back in his space. Mary Ann was having a hard time keeping track of five children, their spouses, and the seven grandchildren. Following the dog inventory was too much for her. “Remind me, Todd, is that Ranger?”
“Sure is, Mom.”
“Well, I’ve got good news for him. I just got a phone call from Peggy Hopkins. Ranger has a new home.” Todd looked surprised, so Mary Ann filled in the missing pieces for him. “I guess Frank Hopkins has been talking about him nonstop since Ranger burst into his house while the rest of you were caroling. Says he likes the dog’s grit—his ‘spunk,’ Peggy kept saying. She’s coming to pick him up tomorrow morning and give him to Frank for Christmas.”
Todd grinned and held Ranger close to him. “You’re going to have to learn to get along with that little poodle!”
With the children out in front of them, George and Hannah followed behind. Mary Ann lingered a minute longer in the barn with her son. She glanced down the row of cages and asked Todd, “How do they like their new home?”
“They’d rather have real homes, but they’re okay for now.”
“You ready to eat?”
Todd took his mother’s hand. “Mom?” He then continued, “Do you mind if I ask Laura and her parents to come over tomorrow morning for Christmas brunch?”
“Of course not, Todd. If they don’t have other plans, we’d love for them to join us.”
“They don’t have other plans, ’cause I already asked them.”
Mary Ann shook her head. “Just as I thought. Did you tell them eleven o’clock?”
“I think so.”
“Well, make sure! We don’t want them to miss the meal.” Todd ran off ahead of his mother. She shut the barn door and started on the short walk back to the house for dinner. Unlike the interior of her home, the world outside was remarkably tranquil. She loitered for a few minutes, enjoying some solitude by the corral fence, beside the old weather vane that George and Bo McCray had built so many years before.
Mary Ann felt grateful for her farm, her family, and the time they would have together that evening. She leaned against the fence rail and appreciated the way the horizontal light from the setting sun illuminated the speckled white-and-brown farmscape. Bits of summer grass, showing tints of buckskin and roan, poked stubbornly through the thin patches of snow, unwilling to yield to winter.
She pulled her jacket close around her and watched the sun sink on the horizon. Her horses were grazing in the meadow to the west. Little gray puffs of air came from their nostrils as they picked through the snow. She felt colder air push against her face and could hear the little propellers on the weather vane whirling even faster above her. The sun reflected off the belly of the miniature Cessna as the small plane spun around to a new direction.
IT WAS one of his favorite holiday chores. Early Christmas morning, George snuck down the staircase with a sack of toys and other gifts the adults had put together and wrapped the night before. As the designated Santa Claus, George placed all the gifts under the tree. After he took the obligatory bite out of the sugar cookie politely set out for Santa on the best white china, he left to do Hank’s chores in the still early hours before dawn.
When he got back, the children were anxiously waiting for their gifts. George continued in his role as Mr. Claus and distributed the brightly wrapped packages, one at a time, and at a snail’s pace. The children yelled, “Grandpa, you’re too slow!”
“Don’t you want it to last?”
Once the presents were opened, the adults started putting together Christmas brunch, and the house full of family guests took turns in the bathroom lines. George took Todd aside and said, “I almost forgot about this. I thought you might like to have it.” George dug into a brown sack and pulled out the old cowbell he had polished up.
Todd looked over the cowbell and seemed strangely glum. “Don’t you like it?” George asked.
Todd felt as if the bell symbolized everything he was going to have to leave behind if he moved away, and the thought made him sad. “Yes, Dad. I like it a lot. You’re a good gift giver.” Todd gave his dad a big hug. “I love you and Mom very much. I have to go now.”
Todd went back to Thorne’s cabin to change out of his pajamas and get cleaned up for brunch with his family and Laura and her parents. Having invested a small fortune in his interview suit, he had proudly told Laura he was going to wear it again on Christmas Day. After he changed, he put together a bag of gifts and other special items he had assembled for the morning brunch.
Back at his parents’ house, Todd sat on the sofa and fidgeted nervously as he waited for Laura and her parents to arrive. In the kitchen, Mary Ann commented that Todd seemed jumpy, but Hannah only grinned. “Come on, Mom, think about it! It makes perfectly good sense to me!” Mary Ann wished she could be as lighthearted about it as Hannah was, but Mary Ann was thinking about her youngest son, not a kid brother.
When Laura still had not arrived by 11:10, George tapped his watch and teased, “Do you think they forgot?”
Immediately he regretted his gentle joke when he saw that Todd seemed genuinely frightened by the prospect. Just then Hannah saved the day, calling out from the kitchen, “They’re here!”
It was now sunny outside and not particularly cold, so Laura took her coat off in the car. Gracie exited first and then backed up to Laura to help her from the backseat. She held the handle on Gracie’s vest as the two of them made their way to the back door.
Mr. and Mrs. Jordan would not have chosen to spend Christmas morning with the family of their daughter’s best friend, particularly when they had just been out to the McCray farm a few days earlier. That said, they liked Todd and they loved their daughter. Laura didn’t ask for much, and this seemed important to her, so they just said, “Of course, we’d love to go.”
Not all the McCray grandchildren had met Laura, so some of them were very curious, jockeying for a front-row seat at the dining room window facing west toward the driveway. They were having a hard time taking it all in and started whispering to each other. “Is that her? I
s that Todd’s friend?” “Maybe she’s his girlfriend?” “She’s so beautiful!” “Why does the dog help her walk?” “I think she’s a princess.” “Maybe she’s a pixie or a fairy?” “Why does she walk so slowly?” “Shhh! We’re not supposed to talk about it.…”
When the Jordans were inside, Todd took Laura aside and whispered to her, somewhat boldly, “You look so beautiful in your dress.”
Laura held Todd’s arm. “Not half as handsome as you.” She kissed him gently on the cheek. “Merry Christmas. Thanks for asking us over.”
The McCray grandchildren were drawn to Laura and Gracie, crowding around them as if they were the ice-cream truck on a hot August evening. Todd introduced each one to Laura and then helped her take a seat in the living room. As soon as the remaining introductions were completed, the smallest children began crawling up onto the sofa for a closer look at the princess who wore a dark blue dress and her hair tied back with a red bow. Gracie sat patiently beside her. One grandchild had his arms wrapped around the white dog’s neck and did not plan to let go anytime soon.
Todd noticed that the fire was fading and asked his eldest brother, Jonathan, “Can you put another log on the fire?”
Jonathan looked at Todd decked out in his new suit. As if that was not enough, now he was worrying about the fireplace ambience. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Kinda,” Todd said with a curious little smile. He went back to the sofa to sit with Laura, though he couldn’t get too close because of the crowd of nieces and nephews scattered around her.
“Everyone to the table!” Mary Ann called from the kitchen.
The children all clamored for the seat next to Laura and Gracie. Todd took the chair to her left and, after putting the last remaining steaming dishes on the table, Mary Ann evicted a squatter who had claimed the seat at the head of the table, which happened to be on Laura’s right. “Honey, please move to another chair,” she said to the grandchild. “I need to be close to the kitchen.”
A Christmas Home: A Novel Page 15