The Happiest Season (14 page)

“Do you have to leave, John?” Rickey asked, sounding
disappointed.

“I really do have to get moving.”  His heart nearly broke
when he saw Rickey’s downcast eyes.  “Hey, I’ll stop by and say ‘hello’
sometime this week.”

A moment later, as he climbed into his truck, he nearly
leaned forward and banged his head repeatedly against the steering wheel.  He’d
essentially resolved to step away from Maggie and her son, at least until he
sorted out his feelings, but he had promptly told little Rickey he’d stop by to
see him soon.

As he turned the key and started the truck, and then pulled
away from the curb and into the street—away from the little house where Maggie
and Rickey lived—he realized something else.  He wished he was still inside
with them, particularly when he arrived home and found Kim standing at the top
of the exterior stairway leading to his small apartment. 

He heaved a sigh, wishing anyone but Kim was standing
there.  He had no interest in talking to her, but that fact wouldn’t matter one
iota to her.

“Johnny, it’s so good to see you.  I was beginning to think
you were never coming home.”  She checked her watch.  “I don’t have much time.”

“Why?” he asked, though he really didn’t care.

“Alex is golfing today, but he won’t be much longer.”

“So he doesn’t know you’re here?”

She gave him a frustrated look.  “Johnny, don’t be obtuse.”

“Kim, don’t be ridiculous.”  He sighed.  “You need to go.  I
have no interest in talking to you.  I’ve moved on.”

Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth compressed in a hard line. 
John braced for the fit of temper he knew was coming.  Somehow, she managed to
remain calm.  “I’ve grown, Johnny.  I’ve grown up,” she said crisply, and gave
a shrug.  “Imagine that!”

She gave a tremulous sigh and he saw genuine sorrow in her
eyes.  “I made a mistake.  And I guess it’s like they say, you don’t know what
you have until you lose it.”

He didn’t respond.  He didn’t know how to respond.  Kim’s
apparent epiphany meant nothing to him or for him.  He was moving on.  Finally.

“I’m going inside.”

“May I come in?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“It’s probably best we not talk today anyway.  Alex is
expecting me home.”

“I don’t want to talk with you again,” he said firmly.  “It’s
better if we both move on.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I’m afraid I do.”  Frustrated, John turned and unlocked his
door.  “Goodbye, Kim.”

***

“How many days until Christmas, Mama?” Rickey asked. 

“Uh, fourteen,” Maggie told him, as she finished loading the
dishwasher.  She rose and glanced around the kitchen, and satisfied it was
clean, walked briskly toward the stairs to the second story of the house. 
“Honey, I’m going to take a shower and get ready for bed early tonight.  Will
you be all right watching television down here until bedtime?  I’ll hurry.”

“Sure,” he said agreeably, pleased he was getting additional
TV time.

He turned to his favorite kiddy channel and eased back on
the sofa with Pocomo in his arms.

Within a moment or two, he heard a strange sound outside. 
Pocomo heard it too, since his ears perked.

“What is it, boy?” Rickey murmured.

The little dog emitted a low growl.

Rickey rose from the couch, setting Pocomo down on one of
the cushions.  The dog remained hyper-alert as Rickey tiptoed across the room
and eased back the blinds on the sliding door.  He gasped.  A little lamb was
standing at the door, its black nose pressed against the glass.

“Hello, little guy,” he said softly, and glanced behind
him.  Was his mother coming?  Had she already finished her shower?

He hurriedly flipped on the outdoor light, to assure the
tiny lamb was all alone.  He glanced out at the lawn and saw that, indeed, the
lamb hadn’t brought any friends with him.

He gently opened the door and crouched down, nose to nose
with the animal.  “What are you doing here, little guy?” he asked, glancing
around the yard again.

The lamb let out a “baahhhhh.”

“Baahhhhh,” Rickey answered, and then reached out and
gathered the baby lamb against him.  He struggled to stand with the animal in
his arms.  Finally managing to get upright, he teetered slightly, but found his
footing. 

He grinned into the lamb’s adorable face.  “I like you
better than the camel and the donkey,” he whispered.  “I’m sure Mama will too.”

His eyes widened as an idea formed.  Maybe, if he was quiet,
and the lamb remained quiet, he could hide it in his bedroom and keep it. 

It was too cold outside for that baby lamb to be running
around all alone.  And what if something happened to it?  He knew of several
big dogs in the neighborhood.  It could get hurt if he didn’t protect it.

He walked to the stairway and began climbing, careful not to
make any sound.  At the top of the stairs, he paused, listening.  He heard the
sound of running water in the shower, and knew he had time to slip into his
room.

Inside, he looked around, uncertain what to do with the lamb
until his mom went to her bedroom for the night. 

The closet!

He carried the lamb to his closet and pulled open the door. 
He kicked aside shoes and toys, and set the lamb down.  He dashed back to his
bed and grabbed one of his two pillows.  He returned to the closet and placed
the pillow on the closet floor.  He urged the lamb to lie down.

He smiled with relief when it obliged, letting out a tiny
“baahhhhh” and settling comfortably on the pillow. 

When he no longer heard the sound of running water, he rose
and gently eased the closet door closed.  He paused briefly and pressed his ear
to the door.  The lamb remained silent, but he doubted it would for long.

He turned and ran out of his bedroom and to his mother’s
room.  He knocked on the door and listened intently.  “Mama,” he called.

“Come in, honey.”

He turned the knob and walked into her room.  She was
already dressed and running a brush through her hair.

“G’night, Mama.  I think I’ll go to bed now.”

She gave him an assessing glance.  Since when did he go to
bed without having to be told?  Maybe like her, he was exhausted.

It had been a long work week for them both.  Rickey had
counted on John visiting, but he hadn’t managed to stop by. 

Maggie felt bad for her son, but seeing how upset he had
become when John failed to visit, she realized it was probably for the best
that he stayed away. 

It broke her heart when she realized that her son had bonded
with John so quickly.  She knew he missed his father terribly.  Having John
around, even briefly, had shown her how much her son yearned for a male figure
in his life.  It had also cemented her resolve that she would never allow
Rickey to get close to anyone.  Maybe, someday, she would be ready to date
again and perhaps marry, but until then, she wouldn’t put her son through the
roller-coaster ride of bonding with and then losing someone he’d grown to care
about.

His well-being remained her first priority.

She smoothed a hand through his hair.  “You’re tired, huh?”

He nodded and yawned.  “Yes.”

“Okay, then.  Go on to bed and I’ll be in in a minute to say
your prayers with you.”

“Can we say them right now?  In here?”

She gave him a questioning look, but nodded.  “Sure, if
you’d like.”

He knelt down beside her bed and began praying.  He spoke so
quickly, she could scarcely keep up with him.  She gave him a bewildered look, but
also said a brief prayer. 

With an enthusiastic ‘Amen,’ he jumped to his feet and
dashed out of her room.  “Love you!  See you in the morning.  You don’t have to
come into my room or anything to tuck me in.  I’m growing up, you know!”

She watched after him, frowning.  He was five!  Why did he
suddenly prefer that she not come into his room to tuck him in?  She wasn’t ready
to give up their nighttime routine.  But for tonight, she decided to allow him
to go to bed, without her hovering.  Maybe he was trying to exert a little
independence.  Maybe that was a good thing.

She left her bedroom and hurried downstairs to assure the
house was locked down for the night.  She turned off the television and picked
up Pocomo.  She carried him upstairs.  He began wriggling in her arms and let
out a low growl.

“What’s going on with you?” she muttered softly. 

He responded by planting a kiss on her lips, but continued
to make a strange sound that seemed to emanate from the back of his throat.

 Inside her bedroom again, Maggie put the little dog down on
her bed.  He stood motionless at the foot of the mattress, staring toward the
closed bedroom door.  He let out another low growl.

“Pocomo! 
Enough
,” Maggie scolded, though she
wondered what had his ire up.  She perked her ears, but heard nothing.

With a final growl, the little dog walked to the top of her
bed and began turning in a tight circle.  Finally, he dropped down and lowered
his head.  He continued staring toward the door with watchful eyes. 

Maggie flipped off the lamp beside her bed and lay down. 
Her head had no sooner touched the pillow than her doorbell rang.  Pocomo began
barking and charged toward the closed door. 

She rose up, her brows furrowed in a frown.  Who would be
stopping by tonight?  It was only a few minutes after nine, but still…

Tugging her robe off the back of a chair in her room, she
slipped into it and tied it tightly around her waist.  She picked up the
Chihuahua and walked downstairs, trying not to make any noise.  She didn’t want
to wake Rickey, since he’d apparently fallen asleep already.  Were he awake, he
would have already run down the stairs.

Before she could answer the door, the doorbell rang a second
time, and then a third.  She glanced back, certain Rickey would soon be
barreling down the stairs.  But she didn’t hear a sound from him.

She didn’t immediately pull open the front door, but instead
looked through a small window that flanked it.  She saw a patrol car parked at
the curb.  Had someone spotted a prowler in the area?  Is that why Pocomo was
behaving so strangely?

She opened the door and found John on the small front
porch.  He nodded a greeting.

“Hi.”  She glanced around, her features concerned.  “Is
everything all right?”

“I hope so.  Have you had any unwanted animals show up
tonight?”

“No.  We’re finally having a quiet Friday evening.  Thank
goodness.”

He appeared to notice her robe.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  Did I wake
you?’  He checked his watch.

“Rickey and I were tired, so we went to bed early,” she
explained, feeling slightly disoriented.  It was odd seeing him again.  She
felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach, and hated to acknowledge what it
meant.  She missed John—perhaps as much as Rickey did. 

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he said, his eyes
lingering on her face. 

She averted her face—feeling awkward and exposed.

He sensed her discomfiture and stepped back, as if to leave.

“What animal went AWOL tonight?” she asked suddenly,
bringing him to a stop.

“A little lamb.”

Maggie nodded, and then felt a niggling feeling that
something was amiss.  “A little lamb?” she repeated, her eyes now riveted on
his face.

“Yes.”

“How little?” she asked, wondering… 

“I haven’t seen it myself, but…” 

She raised a finger, gesturing for him to give her a
minute.  He nodded and stepped into the foyer, closing the door behind him.

She turned and went upstairs to Rickey’s room.  She was
surprised to find he’d closed his bedroom door.  As she pushed it open, she
heard a strange sound that brought her to a stop.

“Baaahhhhh.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she muttered, as she reached for the
light switch beside the door.  She flipped it on and the room was bathed in
light. 

Rickey bolted up in the bed and watched her wide-eyed and
looking as guilty as a kid with his hand in a cookie jar.  The lamb, beside
him, raised its head and gave a friendly “baaahhhhh” before settling itself
against the little boy again.

Maggie wagged a warning finger at her son, and then called
down the stairs.  “John, would you mind coming up here for a moment?”

“Sure.”  He climbed the stairs and stepped into the
bedroom.  His eyes immediately lit on the lamb.

He attempted to suppress a smile, but blanked his face, and promptly
rearranged his features into a sterner expression when Maggie gave him a dirty
look.  He cleared his throat.  “Ricky, what is that lamb doing in your bed?” he
demanded.

“He’s mine!” he cried.  “He came to the back door and he’s
so little…  I couldn’t leave him outside.”