The Happiest Season (23 page)

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Authors: Rosemarie Naramore

BOOK: The Happiest Season
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As John hurried out of the house, he heard the older woman
praying for the safety of the little boy.  He found himself doing the same. 
“Oh, please God, let him be all right,” he implored.  “Please return him safely
to his mother—and to me.”

 

***

 

Maggie ran to the garage and jumped into her car.  She
nearly forgot to open the garage door, but remembered just before she plowed
into it.

She gave an impatient sigh, and waited with bated breath for
the antiquated door to rise.  It did so with a groan.  She backed rapidly down
the driveway, promptly shifting into drive when the car hit the asphalt.  She
sped away, toward the field where the nativity scene was on display.

She arrived a few seconds before John screeched to a halt at
the curb.  He practically flew out of the car and met her as she dashed along
the sidewalk adjoining the open field.  She didn’t speak, even when he grabbed
her hand and tugged her toward the grazing animals.

He slowed when they reached the manger.  He hadn’t had a
chance to see the life nativity close-up at nighttime, and came to a stop.  The
manger appeared just as he envisioned it from the accounts in the Bible. 

The camel, currently standing right of the scene, lifted its
head and gazed directly into his eyes.  The donkey, left of the camel, also watched
him, as if sizing him up.

John turned to Maggie.  “I don’t see him” he whispered.

“Rickey!” she called.

“Rickey!” John shouted.

“John?”  His little voice came from behind the manger.

John bolted around the left side of it, barely missing
colliding with a sheep.  “Rickey!”

“I’m here.” 

John rounded the structure and came to an abrupt stop. 
Rickey was sitting on the hard, damp ground, holding the little lamb in his
arms. 

“Thank God,” John muttered.  “Son, are you all right?” he
demanded, his voice rife with relieved emotion.

“I’m … okay,” he answered, his voice faltering slightly.

“Maggie, he’s okay,” he called.

“Thank you, God,” she breathed.  She took a step toward her
son. 

He glanced up at her through accusing, tear-filled eyes.  “I
want John.”

“Honey, we need to go home.  We’ll talk there.”

“I want to talk to John,” he said, and began crying.

“May I talk to him?” John whispered.  He laid a gentle hand
on her arm.  “Please.”

She nodded, though she felt apprehensive.  She wanted her
son safely back in her arms.

John knelt down beside the little boy.  “What’s going on,
Rickey?” he asked softly.

“Do you miss the animals?  Is
that why you came here—because they didn’t come to your house tonight?”

He dropped his head and shook it from side to side.  “No.  I
mean, I miss them, but that’s not why I came.”

John reached out and stroked his back.  “Then why did you
come here, son?”

Rickey glanced up.  “Because
you
didn’t come
tonight.”  He began crying, but bit back a sob.  “You were supposed to come,
just like you did the other Friday nights.”

“Oh, Rickey,” he said, as he sat down beside him.  “You’re
upset that
I
didn’t stop by?”

He nodded.  “You see, I prayed to God to send me a daddy.  And
he sent me a camel.”  He sniffled.  “But I prayed to God again, and I probably
wasn’t as nice to him as I should have been.”

“What do you mean?”

“I said to him, ‘God, I asked for a daddy and you sent me a
camel.’”

John bit back a smile.  “Go on.”

“And then, the next Friday night, a donkey showed up…”

“And so did I,” John said, beginning to understand.

“Yeah, and then the lamb came, and you came, and then I
figured it out.”

“Figured out what, honey?” Maggie asked, taking a step
closer.

He glanced up and met his mother’s eyes.  “I tried to tell
you.  God sent John to us.  He’s supposed to be my daddy.”

Maggie gasped, but John only smiled.  He felt his throat
constrict with emotion, and he struggled to keep his voice even.  He reached
out and stroked the lamb, and then eased the little creature off of Rickey’s
lap.  He picked up the little boy and gathered him against him.  “Any man would
be proud to be your daddy.”

“But I want you,” he sniffled.  He burrowed his face into
John’s chest.  “God sent you, but you stopped coming…”

Maggie hurried over to him and reached for her son.  She
held him tightly.  “We’ll talk at home,” she whispered.  “I promise.”

“I want John,” Rickey cried again.

“Honey, he has to go to work, but…”

John shook his head.  “I’m done for the night.  I’m calling
in.”  He accompanied Maggie to her car and helped her to get Rickey inside.  He
patted the little boy on the cheek, and then stepped back and turned to
Maggie.  “I’ll see you at your place in just a minute.”

She nodded and climbed into her car and drove off.

John hurried to his patrol car and called in to his
sergeant.  He explained what had happened and requested to go home early.  His
sergeant gave him permission, and he drove directly to Maggie’s house.

When he knocked lightly on the door, it took her a moment to
answer.  When she did, she told him Rickey was already upstairs and sleeping. 
“He was pretty wiped out.”

He nodded.  “He and I both,” he said with a sympathetic
smile.  “Oh, you need to call Gloria.  She’s beside herself with worry.”

Maggie quickly placed the call to her best friend.  After
she hung up, she turned to John and searched his face.  “You were at Gloria’s
when I called her…?”

He explained being in the neighborhood for a call, and
happening to see her as she awaited her guests on her front porch.

“Oh, okay.  Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?” she asked. 
“It’s late, but I could use one myself.”

“Sure.”

He followed her into the kitchen.  He sat down at the
kitchen island and watched her begin preparing the hot chocolate.  He
registered how terrified she’d been about Rickey, when he saw that her hands were
still trembling from fear.  He wanted to take her in his arms and soothe her,
but knew she wouldn’t be receptive to his intervention.  

“I’m sorry about tonight,” she said tremulously.  “I … I
can’t imagine what Rickey was thinking, taking off like that.”

He chuckled lightly.  “He was thinking God sent him a daddy.”

Maggie shook her head, and then gave a sigh.  “I know how
much he misses his father, but…”

“I think he’s right,” John interrupted.

Maggie hesitantly met his gaze.  “Wha—?”

He gave a self-deprecating laugh.  “Hear me out, Maggie. 
Think about it.  You don’t think it’s a bit coincidental that those animals
kept showing up at your house, during my shift?  And although the gate wasn’t
locked, it
was
latched.  Did you even really ponder how those animals
were getting inside?  It isn’t as if they can unlatch the gate themselves…”

Maggie shook her head and spread her hands wide.  “I don’t
know what to think.”

John rose and rounded the kitchen island.  He stared
intently into her eyes.  “Like Rickey, I think we were meant to meet.  I wasn’t
looking for a relationship, nor were you—yet, those animals appeared in your
yard, bringing me into your house, and likewise, you and Rickey into my life.”

“Divine intervention?” Maggie mused, and shook her head.  “But
I’m not ready for a relationship,” she moaned.

John reached out and pulled her against him.  “Maybe your
timing isn’t God’s timing.”

“Have you been talking to Gloria?” she asked suspiciously.  “And
you’re not ready for a relationship either,” she added glumly.

“Hey, I’m more than willing to trust God’s timing,” he said
with a wide smile.

She gave a shuddering sigh, and suddenly remembered Kim
telling her that John had a child.  She abruptly pulled away from him.  She
needed to keep a cool head, and she simply couldn’t do that in his arms.  “Kim
told me…”

He groaned this time.  “That woman…”  He raked a hand
through his hair.  “I know.  Gloria told me, Kim told you, I have a child.”

She nodded.  “I mean, she would know, wouldn’t she?”

“No.  Look, remember at the home improvement store, when we
went to buy the siding to repair the damage from the camel…?”

She nodded again.

“We ran into her there.  She saw Rickey with me, noted that
he resembles me physically, and jumped to all sorts of conclusions.”

Maggie gasped.  “She thought Rickey belonged to you?”

“Yep.  He does look a lot like me,” he said, sounding oddly
like a proud father.

Maggie began tending to the boiling milk, in order to occupy
her mind and hands for a moment.  She needed a moment to process. 

John sensed she needed time, since he returned to his
stool.  “Look, Maggie, I know that neither of us were expecting to meet the
other, or to have feelings for one another.  But, I guess these things aren’t
necessarily within our control.”

She shook her head.  “And you’re thinking it’s in God’s
control.”

“Yes.  And I think we should trust Him that we should trust
one another enough to see where this goes.  I’m not suggesting we rush into
anything.  But I am suggesting we give a relationship a chance.  Maggie, I …” 
He sought her eyes, and she saw his eyes were liquid bright.  “I love you.  I
hope you can love me too, someday.”

She turned toward him and gave a tremulous smile.  “That’s
the problem.  I think I already do.”

He leapt from the stool and rounded the island a second
time.  He pulled her into his arms.  “That’s not a problem, honey.  That’s a
solution
.” 
He laughed, a robust, happy sound that was music to Maggie’s ears.  “Maggie,
you’ve made me a very happy man.”

“And I’m happy too, John,” she said with wonder.

“I’m glad, sweetheart.  And it’s a good thing too.”

She gave him a questioning glance.

In answer, he said, “It is, after all, the happiest season
of all.”

Epilogue

 

December, three years later

 

“Brianne’s hands are so little, Dad,” Rickey said.  He
called out to his mother, “Mom, were my hands that little when I was brand new?”

“Almost,” she called back.  “But you were a bit bigger than
your sister.”

 Rickey, who was leaning against his dad’s shoulder, glanced
up at his father’s face.  “Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“I was wondering…”  The little boy frowned and shifted
uneasily.

“What is it, Rickey?” he asked with concern.

“Well, a boy at school said you probably wanted a boy
instead of a girl, since I’m not your real son.”

John’s expression was stricken.  “Hey, you know as well as I
do that God sent you to me, and me to you, so we could be a family.  And you
know you’re the best son I could ever ask for.”

Evidently satisfied, Rickey smiled and began studying his
little sister again.  John was holding her in his arms and was also staring in
awe at his new daughter.

“Dad?” Rickey said.

“Yes, son?”

“Did you pray for a boy?”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“What are you sorry about, Rickey?”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get a boy when you prayed for one.”

He gasped.  “But I did get a boy when I prayed for one,” he
said, smiling into his little boy’s eyes.  “He sent me you.”

“Oh!”  Rickey beamed as he snuggled against his dad’s
shoulder.  “Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“Do you ever wish you could have met my other dad?”

John nodded.  “Sometimes I do.”

“What would you say to him?”

Without hesitation, John said, “I would thank him for you.”

Rickey smiled.  “That boy at school doesn’t know much, does
he, Dad?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“We’ll pray for him.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” John said with a chuckle.  “Okay,
then.  Your sister’s sleeping so…”

“It’s guy time!” he whispered eagerly.

“Yes, it is.”  John rose and carefully passed baby Brianne
to Maggie—his wife of two years. 

Her eyes were moist with unshed tears.  She’d overheard
Rickey’s conversation with his father, and her heart swelled with love for
them.  She glanced heavenward and thanked the Lord once again for that
Christmas three years before, when they were visited by three wayward animals,
and the police officer who had come to the rescue and mended their broken
hearts.

“Do you think she’ll nap while we’re gone?” John asked,
interrupting her thoughts.

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