Read Christmas Wishes...Special Delivery Online

Authors: Mary Manners

Tags: #christian Fiction

Christmas Wishes...Special Delivery (5 page)

“No.” Riley jammed his hands into his pockets. Thinking of her out in the cold during the holidays, spoiling Rosie’s Christmas and Gran’s too, shredded his insides. “Don’t go.”

“Well, then…” She sniffled. ”I suppose you’re welcome to hang around and eat your fill of cinnamon rolls but I won’t be joining you. I have to get back to Rosie. We have a kitten to name and a litter box to tend to, thank-you-very-much.”

 

 

 

 

4

“What do you have there, Gran?” Riley leaned across Ruth’s shoulder to sniff the meat she was seasoning. “It smells delicious.”

“I’m making a roast for dinner.” Ruth added peeled red potatoes, onions, and baby carrots to the broiler pan. She poured in a cup of water and replaced the lid.

“Let me get that for you. It’s heavy.” Riley grabbed the pan as she opened the oven door. Heat wafted. “You prepared a lot. Are you expecting an army?”

“I thought we’d invite Kaylee and Rosie, share the feast. I meant to mention it to them at church this morning, but it completely slipped my mind.” She stepped back to allow him room to grab the pan. “I wish you’d joined us. You might have helped me remember. And, Pastor Ryan’s sermon was spot-on, as usual.”

“I’m just not…” He wrestled the roaster into the oven and then turned to face her, shrugging as he switched gears. This was dangerous ground, some they’d crossed more times than he cared to count. “You know how I feel about church, Gran. What’s the point?”

“Chance a few visits again, and maybe you’d remember.” She pressed a button on the oven to set the timer into motion. “Rosie’s playing a sheep in the children’s nativity on Christmas Eve. I’m sure she’d love for you to come see her.”

Gran had played her trump card. She obviously sensed Riley would have a hard time denying the child. He couldn’t fault her. After all, what would an hour spent in church hurt, especially on Christmas Eve? “I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Such a lawyer.” Gran patted his chest. “Continually analyzing and notating. Not much of a place for that in matters of the heart.”

“Maybe not, but it works for me.”

“Does it, Riley?” Her eyes sparked with the pointed question. “Really?”

“Yes.” He ignored the niggle of doubt that ate away at him, punctuating his answer with a vigorous nod. Yet he felt like a teenager caught in a lie. Gran always seemed to know what lay on his heart, no matter how well he tried to hide it. “I went to help at the animal shelter. Isn’t that enough?”

“You tell me.”

“You’d make a great prosecutor, Gran.” He sighed. “And, as for dinner tonight, Rosie might jump at the chance, but I don’t think Kaylee will want to come.”

“And why is that?”

“We had a…little discussion after the Christmas party yesterday and, well, I said some things I regret, made a pretty good mess of it.”

“Already?” Gran’s eyebrows disappeared beneath hair that curled over her forehead. “Well, you always were an over-achiever.”

“I’d take them back if I could.” Riley grimaced. Dough, covered with a clean dish towel, sat in a bowl on the counter and, as it began to rise, the yeasty aroma filled the kitchen. Moose sauntered into the room. He groaned and stretched, made a sweep of the Linoleum, sniffing for crumbs. Finding none, he slipped beneath the table and splayed, belly down, across the aged floor. Riley settled into a chair and spread his hands over the table as his gaze drifted to the snow-covered meadow. Christmas was officially two weeks away, but, despite yesterday’s festivities at the animal shelter, the holiday spirit had yet to strike. “I’ve spent years training for the courtroom, learning to temper my words. But, regardless of that, a few hours in Kaylee’s presence had me spouting like a ruptured water main.”

“That seems to happen when you care deeply for someone.”

“You mean Kaylee?” The thought nudged something buried down in his soul. “When I left here I thought I’d never want to see her again. But, now that I have, I’m not sure how I feel about her. It’s just all jumbled…weird.”

“Not everything in life is cut and dry, Riley.” Gran’s tone held gentle persuasion. “You can’t always deliberate, can’t always plot an iron-clad strategy and play the pros and cons against each other. All that worry…the energy it consumes. Some things—some emotions—come without rational explanation. They simply…are.”

“I’m not good with emotions. I like my beliefs—my feelings—catalogued in crisp black and white. The situation between Kaylee and me, well, it’s impossible.”

“Oh, Riley, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I don’t know what I believe. All my thoughts are muddled, like a messy stew of confusion. And it’s not just Kaylee. Things are in a state of upheaval at work, too. I’m thinking about shifting gears, moving on to something else.”

“Oh, my.” Gran heaved a huge sigh and then fell quiet. For a full minute, the tick of the clock above the doorway seemed to beat like thunder, mirroring the thud of Riley’s heart. Finally, like a ride going back into motion after a slight pause, Gran hobble-stepped to the table to join him. “What troubles you most, son?”

The word—
son
—soothed. Even though Riley had lost his father months before he was born—the man had left like a thief in the night, abandoned Riley’s mother to fend for him on her own—and then lost his mother, as well, Riley had never, for even a moment, felt unloved. Gran was a huge part of that—Gramps, too.

“When I left for Jacksonville, I thought a career as a prosecutor was what I’d spend my entire life doing. I worked so hard for it, for so long. But now…well, I’m just not sure it’s my passion anymore.”

“That’s a tough pill to swallow.” Gran patted his hand. “A breather might help clear your head.”

“That’s why I’m here.” He smoothed his fingers along her knuckles, swollen and gnarled with age, and remembered how those very hands had comforted him in his darkest days. “Well, one of the reasons why. I’ve missed you, Gran. I’ve missed this…being a part of this.”

“There’s something to be said for quiet familiarity, eh?”

“It’s not just that. It’s…” Riley’s voice trailed off as he gathered his thoughts. He leaned forward in the chair, his shoulder brushing hers. Age had given him a fresh, new perspective. “How have you coped through all of this, Gran? I know it’s been years and that she was my mother. But you lost your daughter, as well. Don’t you ever question, ever wonder what might have been?”

“Of course I question, I wonder. Both are part of human nature.” Gran splayed her hand over the wooden tabletop, scarred from years of use…decades of meals. Riley wondered if the memories haunted…or comforted. “But I don’t pitch my tent in that swamp of remorse, Riley. I don’t dwell on the what-if’s and what-might-have-been’s. There’s no peace to be found there, no comfort.”

So, he had his answer…sort of. “I miss her.”

“I do, too.”

“And I miss Gramps. I should have come home for the funeral.” He shook his head, propped his chin in his hands. “No matter what, my place was here. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, following through with my clients, keeping pace with the firm’s expectations. But now, looking back, I’m kicking myself for failing to drop everything and come.” He didn’t add the fact that he wasn’t sure if he could handle another funeral…the loss of another so precious and loved. He feared it might break him.

“You were here when it mattered, when Gramps—when
I
—needed you most. You made Jacob laugh, made him so proud.” Tears shimmered. “As far as your regrets, remember that death is a part of living. It’s impossible to have one without the other.”

“Why is that?”

“I have absolutely no idea. That’s one of those profound, perplexing questions only God can answer.” Gran patted his hand. “Trust Him to reveal the answers to whatever haunts you, Riley, because dwelling on it here, now, will only lead to heartache.”

“Your faith, it’s so strong. I wish I had that to cling to.”

“You do.” Gran lifted her fingers to tap his chest. “Right here.”

“Oh, Gran…” Riley reached over to brush tears from her eyes. “How did you become so wise?”

“Look at this face.” Gran wiggled her bony cheeks, caverned with laugh-lines. “I’ve got some mileage under the old hood. Nothing is a better teacher than that.”

“I suppose it would be wise of me, then, to take a hike over to the guesthouse and mend some fences.”

“Now
that
sounds like a plan with merit.” Gran’s toothy smile was a splash of sunshine. “With the snow lingering, it’s a nice day for a walk. It will be several hours before that roast is slow-cooked and tender enough to fall off the bone. You can ask Kaylee and Rosie to dinner while you’re there. That child is a treasure and, kitten aside, I believe she already adores you.”

“Kaylee wasn’t thrilled with the cat.”

“She’s got a lot on her plate and a pet just adds to the mix. But, she’ll come around.” Gran nodded. “Yes, sir, there’s plenty of time to take up some mending.”

“I guess that’s my cue.” Riley leaned to dip his head beneath the table top and whistled softly through his teeth. “C’mon, Moose. How about a walk?”

 

****

 

“Mom, do we have any extra mittens?” Rosie asked as she poked a small branch into the snowman’s side. At least it looked like a snowman, kind-of, Kaylee thought. The poor guy’s head could use a bit of rounding, and his belly was more than a few pounds shy of plump. Her blonde hair was buried beneath a cherry-red toboggan. As Rosie twisted the branch to secure it, her breath fogged out in tiny white puffs. “He needs some hands.”

“Run inside and check the laundry room. I think there’s a pair of gardening gloves on the back shelf. With a little imagination, they ought to work.”

“OK. Be right back.” Rosie spun and dashed toward the steps, calling, “Don’t do anything without me.”

“Cross my heart,” Kaylee assured her. “Bring a hat for him, too.”

“I’ve got a hat.”

“What?” Kaylee spun toward the voice.

“Will this work?” Riley stood with his arm outstretched. A hunter-green wool toboggan hung from his pinched fingers and a mischievous grin curved his lips. Moose sat as his side, panting a friendly hello.

“I’m not sure.” Kaylee took a giant step back, her resolve a firm line as she put a measure of distance between them. The hurtful words he’d slung yesterday still stung at the core of her heart. She dropped to her knees to give Moose a hug. “You’ll have to ask the boss.”

Just then, Rosie rushed through the front door of the guest house, took one look at Riley with Moose at his side, and let out a war whoop. Kaylee groaned as her jaw clenched. So much for hanging on to her resolve.

“Mr. Riley, You brought Moose!” Rosie lunged from the porch and threw her arms around Moose’s beefy neck. She hugged him for a good, long minute before she turned to give Riley’s leg a squeeze. “Is that hat for Herman?”

“Herman?”

“Yeah—him.” Rosie jabbed a finger at the snowman. “Herman. His head is cold. He needs a hat.”

“Just say the word.” Riley wadded the toboggan and tossed it to her. “Need a lift?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hop on.” Riley crouched, offering his shoulders, and Rosie squealed as she climbed on. Riley lifted her high into the air, his breath curling as he spoke. “How’s your new kitten?”

“Princess Fluffy? She’s good. She sleeps in my bed at night.”

“Really? That’s cool.” He stepped closer to the snowman so she could reach. “And Princess Fluffy, huh? That’s quite a name. I like it.”

“Yeah. We could have named her snowball, ’cause she’s got all that long, white fur. But Mom said she looks like royalty, so we decided on Princess Fluffy.” Rosie patted Riley’s head. “And she chases a ball of yarn mom made. I wiggle it on the end of a string while she runs. Mom says Fluffy thinks it’s a mouse. Do you think Moose would like her?”

“I suppose he would. He’s always gotten along fine with our barn cats, and he and Princess Fluffy did come from the same home, you know.”

“I guess that makes them sister and brother, huh?” She leaned down to stroke Moose’s back. “Do you hear that, Moose…you have a sister. I wish I had a sister, too.”

The words, so innocent, stabbed at Kaylee. Chances were, Rosie would never know the joy of having a sibling. Kaylee’s relationship track record spoke volumes in that department.

Rosie leaned and squirmed toward the right. “A little more this way, Mr. Riley.”

“Gotcha.” Riley followed her lead. “Tell me when.”

“When.” Rosie stretched to plop the hat on the snowman’s bald, white head as Moose circled around, his tail brushing the snow this way and that. “Oh, look at him.”

“He’s so handsome.” Flakes wafted up to kiss Kaylee’s cheeks.

She smiled, her heart softening slightly at the attention Riley offered Rosie. He seemed to genuinely enjoy the time he spent with her. That mattered; Rosie lacked a male influence in her life. Maybe, despite his differences with Kaylee, Riley could help with that—
if
he stuck around long enough. “Just perfect.”

“Here’s his mittens—I mean hands. I’m using my ’magination.” Rosie tugged a pair of powder-blue cotton gardening gloves from the pocket of her jacket. “Can you help me put them on him, Mr. Riley?”

“Let’s take a look. I think we can do the first one together.” Riley set Rosie back on the ground and then took one of the gloves she offered. Carefully, he guided Rosie’s hands to attach the glove snugly to one of the sticks. “You hang the second one, now. You can do it, sweetie.”

“Are you sure?” Rosie tugged her lower lip between her teeth as she stepped around to the other side of the snowman. She glanced up at Riley, then Kaylee and Moose, and suddenly Kaylee’s hard-fought resolve to keep her distance from Riley melted into a messy puddle.

At this rate, she’d never be able to stay annoyed at him. And she knew, sure as she stood in snow, that allowing herself to be anything but annoyed was dangerous.

“I’m sure.” Riley nodded. “Give it a try.”

“OK.” Rosie grasped the branch and carefully slipped the glove into place. When it held, the breath rushed out of her to swirl in the chilled air. “Wow! I did it.”

Other books

The Bug: Complete Season One by Barry J. Hutchison
Big Stupid (POPCORN) by Gischler, Victor
Censoring Queen Victoria by Yvonne M. Ward
Humble Pie by Gordon Ramsay
The Leithen Stories by John Buchan
Last Heartbeat by T.R. Lykins
Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical by Sciabarra, Chris
Trust Me by Lesley Pearse