by Theresa Weir
She shot up to her feet and leaned over her desk toward them. “You broke a promise to me. And you know what’s worse?” She paused and took in the fear that flicked across their faces. Too late to be afraid, she thought. The dam had broken, and they were about to be flooded with her ire. “You broke your promise to the town to do the best for them. You don’t even want to know the real reason Duane lost his job. So far, I’ve been hesitant to stir anything up. But that’s done now.”
“Maddie.” Patty held out her hand. “Don’t—”
“No!” Maddie slammed her fist on the desktop, and Kevin Spindlebottom jumped. “You’ve lost my respect. I’m moving on. Happy Christmas to you. I’m handing the information to the townspeople. As for myself, I’m seriously considering suing you.”
“You’d be suing the town,” Patty said, but her eyes were wide, her shoulders stiff.
“Would I? I’m not sure. Knowing what I know and what you’ve ignored, it’s possible the town might be able to sue you for your decision.”
Still caught up in the anger, it gave her a sense of satisfaction to see their faces blanch.
“I want you to leave.” She pointed at the doorway and didn’t care that her hand shook.
They turned, as if in a daze, and they slunk out. And good riddance to all four of them, she thought viciously, including Barney, who owned the wine shop in town.
From now on, she’d buy her cheap wine at the grocery store.
The door between her office and the outer office opened. “I hope you really do sue them,” Caroline said.
Maddie gazed at her, unable to say anything as her body trembled and she took deep breaths.
Elvis was crooning “Blue Christmas” over the speakers, and Caroline added, “I’d like to see their Christmases turn blue with worry.”
“Me, too.” Maddie’s voice quavered. “I shouldn’t be vindictive, but they deserve to suffer.”
“I hope you’ll give me what you have.”
“You first.”
“What did Duane do? Are you ready to tell me now? Sexual harassment?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it, but all I have is embezzlement.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit.”
“Is that in the envelope?”
Maddie nodded. “If you really want to read it, you can.”
“You bet I do. I’m proud of you today. You can be nice and still kick butt.”
Maddie laughed but heard an edge of hysteria and clamped her lips tighter.
“There’s no way the town will let an embezzler be the administrator,” Caroline said. “You know how the townspeople are about money. You’re sure you won’t take the position?”
“Not a chance.” The position would be poisoned to her now.
Caroline sighed. “I wish you’d change your mind. Or run for the town board. You’d be elected in a minute.”
She shook her head. In the new year, she’d be gone. Funny, she was back to where she’d been five years ago, ready to sleep in her sister’s basement. But now Kris and Cody had put carpeting and a bar and even a guest bedroom in the basement. It would be fun, Kris had said over the phone.
But Maddie had hopes it wouldn’t last long. She had a good feeling about her appointment with Bert next week to talk about the position at his investigative agency. And she probably wouldn’t sue the town, but she could demand a settlement. They owed it to her. Perhaps there was a way they could get it from George and Duane, the original liars.
“At least you’re not quitting until you have a new job,” Caroline said. “For your sake, I hope you find one. But I’ve gotta admit, I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” Maddie said, and her voice was almost steady now, just a little wobble. If it was just her, she would have left already. But she had to do what was best for Zach. “And until I get that wonderful job, I have to stay for the insurance.”
Caroline sighed again, and Maddie silently agreed that insurance was something to sigh about. It wouldn’t be long before she found a new job, she promised herself.
“Don’t give me your sad face,” she said, putting on her own happy face that she’d created for the times when she wanted to slam her fist against a wall, over and over and over. Her fake-it-until-you-believe-it face. “I have my present for you.”
They had both bought Wisconsin wine for a gift this year. Door County cranberry wine for Caroline and a dry Riesling from Prairie du Sac for Maddie. They hugged. No one was coming to the town hall on Christmas Eve day. Next week would be their busy time, with people dropping in to pay their taxes. But today it was dead enough for them to dance when Brenda Lee sang “Rock Around the Clock” over the speakers, with Caroline showing off her fancy moves.
When the clock clicked at four p.m., they had their jackets and were ready to lock up and hurry outside. They’d already hugged good-bye inside, and they rushed out to their cars, holding their wine bottles to their chests, as well as their knit hats on their heads, otherwise the wicked wind coming from the north would whip them right off.
As Maddie scrambled into her SUV, she imagined that Logan’s dark queen would never wear a cranberry knit hat—especially one that the cat had been sitting on in the morning.
Maddie wasn’t so picky. She stopped off at Zach’s friend’s house to collect him and wish the family a Merry Christmas. She gave them the bottle of wine that Caroline had given her and thanked them for taking care of Zach.
Then she and Zach rushed into the wicked wind again, and she was glad, so glad, that she and Zach had a warm home to go to.
“Mommy?”
He was sitting in his car seat in the back. She glanced in the rearview mirror, though she didn’t have a good view of him. “What, honey?”
“Is Logan coming?”
The three words pierced the I’m-doing-fabulous mask she’d been wearing since she’d picked him up. Her breath stuck in her chest, and she pressed her lips together to keep from crying out in pain.
“Mommy?”
Her breath shuddered out. “No, sweetheart, he won’t be here. But that’s okay. We have each other. And we have Ginger.”
“The real Christmas is tomorrow. I think he’ll come for Christmas. In my letter to Santa, I wished that Logan would stay and be my daddy.”
She clutched the steering wheel. “Honey, Santa gives toys. He doesn’t send people into your life.”
“I asked God, too. Every night I ask him.”
A ball of emotion blocked her throat as she steered into the driveway of her temporary home. And then the ball shrank, but she still didn’t say anything. As if she secretly expected that maybe God had heard Zach. That maybe God had answered him. That when she reached the house, she would see a rental car parked in front of it.
But when they drove down the tree-lined lane past her house to the garage, there was no vehicle waiting for them.
She pressed the garage door opener. “Zach, I don’t think—”
“Mommy! I prayed.”
Her eyes closed as the garage door rolled up. “Just don’t be too hurt if he doesn’t come.” She turned around, and in the dim light, she saw his mouth set in a stubborn line.
She turned back and drove into the garage. Nothing she could say would stop him from hoping. And nothing she could do would stop him from heartbreak. Not when he was only four years old. And it didn’t get better at twenty-seven. Not for her, anyway.
As she unclicked her seat belt, took the key out of the ignition, then got out of the car, she admitted the truth to herself.
She’d fallen a little in love with Logan.
Oh crap, she was still lying. She’d fallen all the way in love with him. Like Jill tumbling down the hill after Jack. She was no better than that. In fact, she’d dived in without taking a deep breath first—and drowned in love.
And now he was gone, and she hadn’t heard from him. But she was still breathing, her damaged heart was still beating, and blood was still pulsing through her
veins.
She would survive, and she would heal. Someday.
Zach scrambled out of the car seat, and she bent to lift him out, though he was getting too big. She hugged him tightly before putting him down to collect his backpack with a gift from his friend.
They ran from the unattached garage to the house, their heads down, and Maddie told herself she should be happy they had a warm house to go to, even though it was temporary. So many people didn’t even have that, and she felt for them.
Even with everything that had happened, she had her son and a warm place to stay. She was the lucky one.
* * *
Dog was cold, so cold. Cold all the way through his skin, his muscles, his bones. He limped along the highway, pain knifing through his leg with every step, his body weak.
There had been no food lately, no small animals to eat. They were hiding in their warm places, sleeping, staying away from predators like him.
Dog kept moving because movement kept him warmer than if he stopped.
If he lay down, he would die.
Cars whizzed by, most of them veering away from him, but some driving so close the draft of icy wind ruffled his fur and even his skin that had gotten loose.
One car, though, stopped.
He stopped, too, his back bowed against the wicked gusts, his body shivering.
Voices and smells came to him. There was a girl and a man and a woman. The girl was crying, and then the woman was saying something that the man didn’t like. Dog could tell the woman was the dominant one, and then the door opened and she stepped out, covered by clothes, but Dog could tell by her smell that she was female.
The woman held out her hands. “Are you lost? You look like you’re starving. It’s Christmas Eve, and we can’t leave you out in the cold.”
Dog stepped toward her. His human was gone, and if he didn’t go with the woman…he would die.
He couldn’t jump into their car; his leg hurt too badly. The lady lifted him in, making a grunting noise. She sat in the back with him, telling the girl not to touch him until she had time to check and see what was wrong with him.
At the house, the woman put Dog in a porch with walls and a door but no heat. She kept him for a moment while she ran in the house and then came out with food that he gobbled up. After that, he wanted to lie down and sleep, but the lady took a scissors. Kneeling on the cold floor, she cut his tangled fur, talking softly to him the whole time. Twice she found a spot that made him flinch, places where he’d been hurt, and she crooned over them.
Finally she got to her feet and said he was good. Then they went into the house, where warm air settled around him like a blanket. There was a bowl of water by the refrigerator, and he craned his head down to the bowl and drank while the girl and the lady watched him. As he finished, the lady told the girl the word he didn’t like: Bath.
The girl scampered out of the kitchen, and a moment later, he wasn’t surprised to hear water running.
“Come,” the woman said. “Come.”
Because she’d fed and watered him, he followed her and let the lady give him a bath. Then the girl came in and rubbed him dry with the towel. He liked that, pressing his body against hers. It felt like a long time since a human had rubbed him.
“Look, he’s a beauty,” the woman said.
“I love him.” The girl kissed his head above his ear, and he opened his mouth and panted at her. He liked her. She was young, but not so young as to poke him in his eye and pull his tail.
He heard the man coming down the steps, the sound heavy and his smell heavy, too.
“I asked for a dog from Santa.” The girl kissed his head again before turning to her mom. “Can I keep him, Mom?”
The dad groaned. “I knew this would happen.”
The mom laughed and went over and hugged him. His arms went around her, too. Dog leaned his head against the girl.
His human was gone. The girl wasn’t his human, but she was here, and she wanted him.
If he found the woman who’d been with his human, she might not want him.
How could he take that chance?
Chapter 25
It was a good morning for Dog—in the beginning. Though the man didn’t like him, the girl kept hugging and kissing him. The woman liked him, too. She gave him more food and water. The humans ate different food, but the girl gave him some under the table. The woman did the same thing.
After that, the humans gave gifts to each other. The girl said her best gift was Dog, though she called him a name he didn’t like. But she gave him more food, so he didn’t mind if she called him the wrong name.
The woman was busy cleaning. Dog knew what that meant. Humans liked to clean. They did it all the time.
The girl sat in the room with a TV and a tree. She played with a game she held on her lap, and it had pictures that moved. Dog lay down by her feet and thought she’d have more fun taking him for a walk, but not when it was so cold outside. So he rested his head on his paws, watching the woman pick up all the paper while the man did something in the kitchen.
A car pulled into the driveway. Dog jumped to his feet, even though his sore leg hurt, and barked to warn them. The woman looked outside and shouted, “They’re here! They’re here!”
The man yelled, “Will someone shut the dog up?”
“Dad!” the girl said. “Don’t yell at Rocky.” She got down on her knees next to him and hugged him. “Shhh. It’s just Grandma and Grandpa.”
Dog whimpered. It wasn’t just Grandma and Grandpa. Someone else was with them, too. Dog smelled it. Dog heard it.
It’d happened to him at the last place, and it was happening to him again.
The woman opened the door, and cold air rushed in then a man and woman, laughing, and the woman was holding something in her arms, something fuzzy and squirming and making a whining sound. “Heidi, guess what we got for you for Christmas?”
“A puppy!” The girl ran from Dog to the puppy, holding it, cooing over it, kissing it. The puppy was little, and she licked the girl’s face, and the girl laughed. “Can I name it?”
“She’s your puppy,” the grandmother said. “You can name her anything you want.”
“She’s brown like cocoa. I’m going to name her Coco. I love her already.” She looked at Dog and said she loved him, too. But all the time, she held the squirmy puppy, laughing because she was licking her jaw.
She was the puppy’s human. Not Dog’s.
“You knew about this?” the girl’s mom asked the girl’s dad.
“It’s why I didn’t want another dog. I wanted to surprise both of you.”
“Well, now we have two.”
“Let’s see how it goes. Maybe we can keep both dogs.” But the man’s voice was flat.
“I think we should keep both dogs.” The woman looked him in the eyes. “After all, this is Christmas.”
They kissed then, and Dog got to his feet. He suspected that what the woman said was what would happen. In every tribe, there was an alpha dog, and in this house, it was the woman.
He had a home here. It wasn’t far from where he’d smelled the woman who’d been with his human. He could go outside every day, and if he smelled his human, he could leave.
Until then, he should stay and be warm and fed and have his leg heal.
Dog walked to the door, and the girl’s grandpa said, “I’ll let him outside.” He opened the door, and the woman yelled, “No! Put him in the back, with the fence.”
The grandpa started to close the door, but Dog was raising his nose, sniffing the air. The woman’s scent came to him, and in that instant, he made his decision.
He darted past the grandfather, into the cold, the door hitting his back leg, the one that was hurt. He yelped then his feet hit the sidewalk, and he ran from the house as fast as he could with his injured leg.
* * *
There was an ache in Maddie’s throat all day, and her cheek muscles hurt from smiling. She and Zach had breakfast then opened pres
ents and kissed and laughed then went to church where she hugged friends and avoided the board members who avoided her back. She stayed for the buffet, for which she’d brought brownies that she’d made last night. Zach played with his friends, and she heard him laughing once in a while, easily picking out his voice from all the others. Every time, it eased the ache in her throat, but the good feeling didn’t last long.
When they left, only about twenty other cars were in the parking lot. As they drove to their house, Zach said, “Mom, I want to call Logan.”
“Oh, honey. He’s far away.”
“I want to call him.”
She glanced at him and saw his mouth was stubborn. When he got like that, he wouldn’t budge. Her father, who she’d talked to last night, was like that, too.
“Please let me call him?”
“Maybe I should call him. Wait until we get home, okay?”
“Okay.”
They reached home, and Zach ignored all the toys and electronic gifts. She’d gone overboard with the Christmas toys; she always did. Kris liked to say she was making up for not having a father around. Or grandparents. Both her parents sent money for Zach, but that went straight into his college fund.
Inside the house, she made him wait while she put away their jackets and mittens and hats. Then she put her empty brownie pan in the sink and filled it with warm water. She wanted to tell Zach to wait until they changed to their comfortable shoes, but when she turned from the sink, he was jumping with impatience.
She sat at the kitchen table with her phone. She’d hoped Zach would have been diverted by his toys, but when he wanted something badly, not much could divert him.
She found Logan’s number in her cell phone directory. As she pressed on it, she realized how tense she was, all her muscles tightened.
It rang four times, then a woman’s neutral voice gave her the “mailbox is full” message. She told Zach, whose shoulders slumped.
In that second, she hated Logan. It was bad enough he’d made her fall in love with him—yes, in love, she admitted to herself. She was strong, though, and someday she would get past it. But he was breaking her son’s heart, too. Damn him for that.