by Sharon Kleve
“I’d call her aunt if I thought it would do any good. She’s just get madder at Brenda. Let’s get you in your sweater and you can roll around in your plastic ferret ball in the covered back parking lot.”
I don’t think so…I’ll freeze my ferret balls off.
“Eww! Too much information.”
One more thing. She’s been surfing animal shelters. She wants a puppy.
“Well, well. John’s been fishing for Christmas present ideas for Brenda. Wouldn’t that be sweet if he got her a puppy?”
I don’t know. They’re a little rambunctious. She wouldn’t bring the critter into work with her, would she?
“I don’t know, but a puppy sure would liven things up around here.”
Chapter Two
John’s gaze rested on Brenda’s beautiful smile, admiring her generosity—never-ending, and her sexy legs—a mile long. He’d do anything to keep her happy. He could usually read Brenda like an open book, but when she flipped the kitchen calendar from November to December, her demeanor changed with the page from happy-go-lucky to sad and melancholy. Her shoulders tensed, her forehead creased, and she lost her appetite. She’d insisted there was nothing wrong, but she’d kept saying she’d feel better after the fifteenth. She wouldn’t say why.
Then he’d tried another tactic to raise her spirits: he’d suggested buying a Christmas tree and decorating it together. Her vague response of, ‘I’ll think about it’ seemed out of character for her. He’d even teased and tickled her to get ideas on what she wanted for Christmas. He got her to laugh, but didn’t succeed in extracting any ideas. Brenda loved clothes, shoes, perfume, and lingerie, but she’d told him she didn’t want anything for Christmas.
When all that failed to cheer her up, he called the ‘Brenda expert,’ her best friend Corny Myers. She hadn’t answered, but he’d left a message asking what Brenda wanted. Twenty-five minutes later Corny called back.
“Hi, John. I have insider information that tells me Brenda wants a puppy,” Corny said with excitement in her voice.
“Are you sure? She never mentioned wanting a pet,” John said. “She’s been acting a little out of sorts lately and I’d hate to upset her even more by getting her a puppy she doesn’t want.”
“Brenda is working through some childhood issues right now. Trust me, she’ll be okay. Be patient a little longer and Brenda will be back to her old cheerful self again soon. To answer your question, I’m almost positive. The information came from a pretty reliable source.”
“Did the source happen to mention what kind of dog she wanted? Breed, size or sex would be helpful.”
“Cute and cuddly was mentioned. But I guess that could be said for all dogs. And with her large, fenced backyard, the dog would be in dog heaven. But knowing Brenda, the dog will be kept with her and indoors when at all possible.”
“I agree. Brenda is the most caring woman I’ve ever met. That’s why I wish she’d talk to me about what’s bothering her. I want to help her.”
“I know. She’ll talk to you when she’s ready. Gotta go. Talk to you soon,” Corny said and hung up on him.
“Thanks,” John said as he hung up too. If Brenda wanted a puppy, then that’s what he’d get her. He’d find her the cutest, most cuddly puppy available. He’d wanted a dog for years but traveled and didn’t want to leave the animal alone. This could work out great.
Chapter Three
Before she left for the day, Brenda called her Aunt Carol. She hated the way their last conversation ended, her aunt angry and her own feelings hurt. After three rings, the answering machine came on. She didn’t know what to say, and hung up. She’d try back later, after a quick trip to the grocery store. Comfort food would help her dismal mood. A nice juicy, rare New York steak and potato dinner sounded like the ticket. Red meat and butter always cheered her up.
Nothing more serious happened in her older, well-kept neighborhood than occasional vandalism from high school kids. But when Brenda pulled into her detached garage and realized she’d forgotten to turn on the front porch light again, she paused before she got out of her car. John told her the moment you let your guard down is when the unexpected happened.
With her nerves on edge, she didn’t notice the shiny surface on her walkway. With nothing to grab onto, she slipped on the black ice and landed on her hip. When the pain subsided enough for her to take note of anything broken, she carefully moved to a sitting position. Okay, she moved this way and that way and nothing seemed to be broken, but her hip throbbed like the dickens.
The cold from the frozen concrete seeped through her pants and her rear-end headed toward numb. Time to get up and into her warm house. She reached for her red Ferragamo satchel and removed her house keys. Her cloth grocery bag’s contents scattered in the snow-covered flower beds when she fell and without the light she couldn’t find everything. The steaks, potatoes, and orange juice were easy to spot, but the cheese, sour cream and her Granny Smith apples were in the snow bank somewhere. She’d come back out later with a flashlight and search for the missing items.
She’d brushed herself off and carefully headed to the front door, when headlights appeared in her driveway, illuminating the snowy ground. That’s when she spotted the rest of her groceries. At the moment though, bending over to pick them up seemed as appealing as climbing Mount Everest. She turned to see who pulled in and recognized John’s Jeep. John seemed to be the only person who could raise her spirits these days. He got out of his Jeep and walked over to her.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi, yourself,” he replied.
She pointed at the ground and asked, “I’ve had rough day and now I’ve fallen. Would you mind gathering up the items I dropped in the snow?”
He stepped in front of her and took her face in his gloved hands. “Brenda? Are you okay?”
She looked into his intense blue eyes and started to cry, mostly due to the pain in her hip but also because for once in her life she didn’t feel alone—she felt cherished. They’d expressed their love to each other in many ways over the last year: through words, touches, and kindness, but this was the first time she truly understood what all those things meant—John was her best friend.
“Honey, talk to me. What’s wrong?” John persisted.
“I fell and landed on my hip, and the groceries went everywhere,” she said, and cried harder.
“Brenda, let’s get you inside and I’ll take a look at your hip. Here let me take the groceries. I’ll come back out and get them after I get you inside.”
“Okay.” John picked her up and carried her through the doorway and lowered her to the couch. With his help, she removed her coat, and then retrieved the shopping bags. After he stored everything in the kitchen he came back and sat down, took her hand.
“Honey, you’re miserable and I want you to tell me what’s going on,” John insisted.
“I’m sorry. My friends put up with me during the holidays, but I never considered how my sadness affected the ones I love.”
“Don’t worry about us. And I love you, so talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
“When I was seven, my parents were killed by a drunk driver and my aunt raised me. She blamed their death on everything Christmas—the gifts, the tree, and all the decorations—but not the driver.”
“That explains a lot.”
“Yeah. All three of us—Mom, Dad, and me—looked forward to the fifteenth all year long. That’s the day we did all our shopping. We’d wrap our presents, decorate our tree and then we’d put up the house lights and lots of yard art. We started the day early and my mom and dad worked on the displays way into the night. But that day, I had gotten the flu and they’d gotten a late start. They never made it home. Sometimes I think my aunt blamed me, too.”
“Have you tried to talk to your aunt about your feelin
gs?” John asked.
“Yeah… That went over real well. I called to see if maybe she’d kept some of my parents’ decorations. I’d made a lot of them in grade school. She flipped out and said she’d thrown everything out years ago. I believed her. I’ve tried to call and apologize for upsetting her, but she won’t pick-up. No matter how unreasonable she can get, she’s still the only family I have left.”
“Hey, they’re all crazy, but you’re welcome to any of my five brothers, two sisters, multiple nieces, and nephews.”
She went along with John’s attempt to cheer her up. “Are you sure? Because your brother Bob is awfully cute.” Then she laughed but winced from the pain in her hip.
“Bob said the same thing about you. So, Bob’s off the table. You can borrow anybody else.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to straighten things out with my aunt. We both need to get over the past and move on,” Brenda said as she massaged her hip. “I think I should soak in the tub for a while or I won’t be able to move tomorrow.”
She got up and headed toward the bathroom.
“Do you need help undressing?”
John said with a gleam in his eye that she recognized. “If you help me, we’ll both end up in the tub. As appealing as bathtub hanky-panky sounds, I think I need to pass tonight. Sorry.”
“How about a glass of chardonnay instead?”
“Sounds great. Would you mind bringing in a couple of chocolate chip cookies to go along with the wine?”
“You bet.”
“Thank you for understanding,” she said as he headed toward the kitchen. “I know I’ve been a pain in the butt lately.”
“Oh, but what a beautiful butt you have,” he replied as he closed the bathroom door behind him.
John left her alone to soak for ten minutes and then she heard two taps before the door opened. He stood in the doorway with a tray topped with a fragrant candle, cookies, wine and a vase filled with holly covered in red berries. He rested the tray on the sink and handed her a large plastic cup filled to the rim with wine.
“That’s some glass of wine. Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked. She took a bite of the cookie and then a hefty sip of the wine. The corner of his lips turned up, but the smile stopped there.
“I can tell you have something on your mind. Spill it. Please?” She started to relax and after one more large sip, she sunk lower in the bubbles. John sat down on the toilet seat and smiled at her.
“What do you think about starting our own traditions? We could head out to a tree farm after work tomorrow and cut down our own tree. Buy all new decorations and drink eggnog while we decorate. Oh, and I’m buying you presents weather you want them or not,” John blurted out.
Brenda looked away. She didn’t know what to say, so she drained her glass and munched on another cookie. She tried to come up with a valid reason why she couldn’t celebrate this year, but nothing came to her. Why shouldn’t she have presents under her tree?
Dammit, this year would be different.
She hooked her finger in the front of his shirt and pulled him close. “Yes, to everything.”
He closed the distance and kissed her until her head spun. The spinning probably had more to do with too much wine and no real food in her stomach, but she didn’t care. His mouth moved to the sensitive spot on her collarbone and she moaned. He must’ve taken that as a sign she wanted more, as he reached under her and released the drain. The water slid away, leaving her exposed to his seeking eyes and hands. Oh…he had amazing hands.
“Brenda, you’re beautiful.”
That’s all she needed to forget her bruised hip. She grabbed a towel. He helped her quickly dry off and then carried her to the bedroom and made love to her until she couldn’t lift her limbs off the bed.
John fell asleep on his side with his arm across her stomach. She loved his muscular body, so different than hers. She stroked up and down from his shoulder to his hand. Even relaxed, his biceps were hard as a rock, his triceps well-defined. His pectoral dipped down into a valley in his chest where his dark hair resided. She slid her hand into the soft curls and twirled them around a finger. His relaxed muscles bunched and he stopped her exploration with one hand.
“Hey, that tickles,” he said in a groggy voice.
“Are you awake enough to talk about Christmas again?”
He removed his arm and sat up. The sheet slipped and his boy woke up very happy. He looked down, smiled, and shrugged.
“Yes, but I need food. We skipped dinner and went straight to desert,” John said as he grabbed his clothes off the floor. I’ll heat up some lasagna while you get dressed and then we can talk, okay?”
“Throw in the French bread I bought and I’ll be out in a jiff.”
Dinner tasted great and after two more Advil her body didn’t throb anymore. They sat on the couch side-by-side.
“I think starting our own traditions is a great idea. My only request is that we wait until December sixteenth to go shopping for anything. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course. But that won’t stop me from shopping for your present now. Are you sure there’s nothing you want to share with me?” John teased.
“No,” Brenda replied. She wanted a puppy but that took a huge commitment. One she wanted to share with John, but hesitated to ask. She’d already purchased John’s gift months ago. She had limited knowledge of guns, but with Corny’s boyfriend Steve’s help she’d gotten a great deal on a Sig Sauer P232.
“Let’s hit the sack. I’m exhausted and you need a good night’s sleep. I have a feeling your hip will hurt like the devil tomorrow.”
“Hey, John?”
“Yes?”
“I love you. That’s all I wanted to say.”
“I love you too,” John replied.
Chapter Four
December fourteenth
John sat at his desk in the Seattle DEA Office and planned every detail of Christmas morning he’d spend with his sweet Brenda. He wanted to make her holiday extra special to erase her unpleasant memories of the past.
On the large white board in his office he wrote: pecan pancakes, chicken applewood sausage, pan-fried potatoes, and mimosas—all her favorite foods. For gift’s he wrote: sterling silver bracelet from Tiffanys, royal blue cashmere sweater to match her beautiful eyes, and a two pound box of Godiva chocolates—her favorite. But, her big surprise still eluded him—a puppy.
His extensive research showed he could get any kind of animal if he wanted to have the poor animal shipped across country. Knowing her like he did, she’d want a mutt from a shelter, not a purebred. He’d looked online and sent several emails out to shelters and still waited to hear back from a couple of them. There wasn’t a great abundance of puppies this time of the year.
As John studied his white board his fellow agent, Mike Williams, walked in. Mike rarely smiled and he’d never heard him laugh, but a solid, trusted agent none the less.
“Any luck finding a pup?” Mike asked.
“No, but I’m on leave after today. Maybe I’ll have better luck tomorrow.” Mike nodded, not much for lengthy conversation. Then he did something completely out of character; he sat down in the chair across from John. Before he could question Mike about he needed, John’s phone rang. His intuition told him this could be good news.
“Agent Smith,” he answered.
“Hello, Mr. Smith. This is Jane at the South Seattle Animal Shelter. Are you still interested in adopting a puppy?”
“Yes, I am.” He tried to contain his enthusiasm. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity.
“You didn’t specify a breed or sex preference. Does that matter to you?” Jane asked.
“The sex doesn’t matter. Do you have more than one breed to choose from?” he as
ked, not that it mattered to him.
“Sorry, no. We were fortunate to get a litter of Golden Labradors in and all but one female has been adopted.”
“I’ll take her,” John blurted without hesitation.
“Well, that’s great. Come on down to the shelter and fill out the necessary paperwork, and Daisy will be all yours,” Jane replied, matching John’s enthusiasm.
“I’ll be there within the hour. Thank you for calling.” He hung up and turned to Mike, smiling from ear-to-ear.
“Good news?” Mike asked.
“Great news.”
John grabbed his jacket and shut down his computer. He’d stop by his supervisor’s office and let him know he needed to start his vacation early. With nothing major in the works it shouldn’t be a problem. He’d need to make two stops tonight: one, to pick-up Daisy and one to buy all her puppy necessities—chew toys, food, water dish, bed, and more chew toys.
“A litter of golden labs was brought in this morning. They already found homes for all but one female.”
“That is great news. Listen, why don’t I come along with you? We have something to talk about.” Mike stood with a grim look on his normally emotionless face.
“Is that what this drop-in is all about?” John asked. This time sensing bad news.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Grab your coat and let’s get going.”
Forty minutes later, they pulled into the shelter’s parking lot. Mike’s cell phone rang a few times on the drive over but his conversations were short and terse. Something was up, but Mike didn’t share any information and John’s mind centered on the puppy and Brenda.