My Sunshine (34 page)

“Because I'm going to hire someone to stay here and watch them while we go Christmas shopping.”

“You aren't finished yet?”

Isaiah rubbed the spot between his eyebrows that always throbbed when his nerves were on edge. “Finished? Sweetheart, I haven't started.”

Long silence. “But, Isaiah, it's almost Christmas.”

“I know. I don't know where my head was. I thought I had plenty of time left. Would you mind helping me out?”

“How many people do you have to buy for?”

“At a quick count, about thirty, not counting all the older hands at the Lazy J. I grew up with most of them, and they're like family. And you, of course. I suppose I should get something for your parents and grandmother as well. And your sister and her family, too, I guess. Probably, when it's all said and done, about forty, maybe forty-five.”

“That's a lot.”

“I know,” he agreed miserably. “I have a big fam-ily, and it's getting bigger every year.” He sighed. “I was thinking that we could take the Hummer and leave your car here until tomorrow.”

“Won't we have to go back for the puppies?”

“Yeah. But we'll be coming to work about the same time in the morning. Why drive your car clear back to the house and waste gas? It'll be fine parked behind the clinic.”

“Okay. I'll see you at four, then.”

“I appreciate this, sweetheart. We'll do dinner out. Sound good?”

When Isaiah ended the call, Belinda was laughing and shaking her head. “You forgot to go shopping again.” It wasn't a question.

“I didn't forget, exactly. I was thinking I could go sometime next week.”

“Next week?” Belinda raised her dark eyebrows. “What planet are you living on?”

 

Laura was late arriving at the clinic. Isaiah had funneled all the appointments he couldn't cancel into Tucker's wing, and he'd been watching for her out a kennel window for almost fifteen minutes. When he finally saw her car pull into the parking lot, he let himself out through the storage room door and hurried to meet her.

“Sorry,” she said as she spilled from the car. “I had puppy problems.”

“What kind of problems?”

She looked like a cheerful little Eskimo in the hooded pink parka. Fake fur framed her face, with tendrils of blond hair poking out. “They wouldn't
stay in the basket. I got on the road and the first thing I knew, I had a puppy under the brake pedal.”

Isaiah's heart caught. “You could have had a wreck.”

“Tell me about it. I couldn't use the brake. I had to turn the key off and roll to a stop.”

“Dear God.” Isaiah bent to peer through a rear window. “Where are they?”

“In the trunk.” She popped the lid just then. Isaiah stepped around the rear bumper. Puppies were popping up like jack-in-the-boxes. “Help!” Laura started grabbing puppies before they tumbled out and fell to the ground. “I don't have enough hands!”

Isaiah couldn't help himself; he started to laugh. His amusement quickly faded when he grabbed for a tumbling puppy and almost missed his mark. Before he could put that dog in the basket, another one toppled out. “Sweet Lord. They're too little to be doing this. What are you lacing that formula with?”

Puppies were coming out of the basket quicker than they could put them in. Isaiah slipped off his jacket and threw it over the wicker to create a lid. Then he helped slip puppies inside and held the jacket taut while Laura rounded up more. When all thirteen babies had been stuffed in the basket, they worked in tandem to carry it into the clinic, Laura dancing around Isaiah as he walked to catch furry little escapees.

“I have never in all my life.” Isaiah was out of breath when he set the basket down inside a kennel
cage. “And you want one of these little monsters?” A black ball with legs tumbled from the basket and waddled blindly over the toe of his boot. Isaiah was afraid to move for fear of stepping on a tiny paw. He reached down to collect the puppy and was rewarded with a snarl for his trouble. “The little shit. He just growled at me.”

“Don't call him a little shit. That's Frown Face.”

Isaiah turned the puppy around to stare into its milky eyes. “As soon as you can see me clearly, you little pill, we're going to get a clear understanding.”

 

Isaiah hated to go shopping for Christmas presents. His usual mode of operation was to hit a department store and scoop things off shelves as he passed through a section: housewares for women, the tool section for men. On his last sweep he hit the toy section for the kids.

The first crack out of the bag, he realized that he and Laura didn't see eye-to-eye on the appropriate way to select gifts. She stared at him in appalled dismay when he grabbed a toaster for his mother.

“Isaiah, your mom has a toaster.”

“This one has four holes, though.”

“That isn't the point. You're sup-posed to get people things that they want. She doesn't
need
a toaster, and it isn't a fun present, either.”

“She loves toasters.”

Laura gave him an incredulous look and started to tap her foot. “Please don't tell me you've gotten her toasters before.”

Isaiah couldn't see what was so bad about buying someone a toaster. People ate toast, didn't they?
If his mother already had a toaster, it was bound to break sooner or later. Then she'd be really glad that he'd thought to buy her a new one.

“Here's the deal,” he said. “I have forty-five people to buy for. If I stand around thinking it to death every time I pick a gift, it'll take me a week.”

Laura put the toaster back on the shelf. “If we can't find something better, we'll come back for it later.”

Isaiah almost groaned, but he dutifully followed her through the store. When she picked something up and examined it from all sides, including from the bottom, he just smiled. Why not? Hell, they had three more days to shop.
Piece of cake.

To his surprise, shopping Laura's way turned out to be fun. Maybe it was because his head had stopped hurting, but putting a little thought into a gift was rewarding. They found a kitchen stool for his mother—a handy fold-up thing with a projecting seat so she could sit down while she prepared meals. More than once at family dinners Isaiah had seen Mary with swollen ankles and rubbing her lower back. The stool was something she'd really use.

After that Laura led Isaiah through the mall, stopping at specialty shops to browse and find thoughtful presents for everyone they loved. In between stores they made mad dashes through the winter night to stash their purchases in the Hummer. It was snowing, which made it all perfect.

At the mall commons, she insisted that they circle the gigantic Christmas display filled with animated figures. This year it was Santa's workshop at
the North Pole. Reindeer lowered their heads to eat. Through frosted windowpanes they could see Santa's elves working industriously in a golden glow of light to complete their projects before Christmas Eve.

“Oh, Isaiah, look at Mrs. Claus!” Laura cried. “Isn't she sweet?”

Isaiah bent to peer through frosted glass and study a cute little Mrs. Claus, complete with granny glasses, rosy cheeks, a blue dress, an apron, and chunky shoes. Beaming a smile, she was extending a tray to a very happy and satisfied Santa, who kept grabbing cookies and saying, “Ho, ho, ho! Thank you, Mrs. Claus.”

“Wouldn't it be neat if there really were a Santa, and we could all make a wish and have it come true?” Laura asked.

She looked up at Isaiah with shimmering eyes, and in that moment he decided that he'd already received a lifetime's supply of Christmas wishes. She was everything he'd ever wanted, everything he'd ever needed, and more than he'd ever dreamed of, his every desire all rolled into one. Christmas carols were playing over the mall's sound system—at that instant “Silver Bells”—making him realize that he didn't have a stereo, let alone a Christmas CD. Even worse, he'd been so focused on work that he hadn't gotten Laura a gift yet or even thought about what she might like.

He didn't like the picture of himself that was taking shape in his mind. He'd become a modern-day Scrooge, almost mechanical in the way he lived his life. Granted, his work was important, and it was
fine to be dedicated, but not to the exclusion of all else. There was Christmas magic in the air. Soon they'd be celebrating the birth of Christ. It was a glorious occasion, a time of year that he never wanted to ignore again.

“There is a Santa,” he assured Laura. “If you believe in him, he's as real as we are. Just keep telling yourself there is a Santa.”

She laughed, squeezed her eyes closed, and said, “I'm making my Christmas wish.”

“What did you wish for?” he asked when she lifted her lashes.

“I can't tell. Then it won't come true.”

At the opposite side of the North Pole scene they came upon a Christmas tree for the poor, decorated with envelopes. At the top of the tree a paper star bore the message,
PICK A FAMILY
. Normally Isaiah went straight past such displays. He already had enough family to buy for at Christmas. But tonight he couldn't keep walking. He had so very much, and there were others who had little or nothing.

“Let's give a poor family a nice Christmas,” he suggested.

Laura looked hesitant. “I don't know if I've got the money. When I pay off my credit card, the lady at the bank tells me how much I've got left. But it's almost the end of the month, so she hasn't told me for a while.”

Isaiah couldn't imagine how it would be, never to know for sure how much money he'd spent or how much he had left. “I'll pay for everything,” he assured her. “I'm blessed with the resources to be able to do it and never notice the expenditure.” He
turned her toward the tree. “Close your eyes and pick an envelope.”

Laura's groping hand landed on a red envelope that contained the physical descriptions of five individuals, a mother and four children of varying ages. There were three girls, ages six, nine, and eleven, along with boy of fourteen. Each child had written a Christmas wish list, all fairly modest requests and some sadly practical, such as snow boots or insulated gloves. Although the mother's clothing sizes were supplied, she'd asked only for five frozen turkey dinners, a can of cranberry sauce, a package of dinner rolls, and a frozen pumpkin pie.

“Oh, Isaiah,” Laura whispered shakily as he read the lists aloud. “They aren't going to have a Christmas dinner.”

“Oh, yes, they are.” Isaiah bent to kiss her, right there in front of God and everybody. Her mouth met his tremulously. She tasted as warm and sweet as the mulled wine she'd made for their tree-trimming party, making him yearn for home and privacy so he might do a more thorough job of tasting. Not possible. He drew reluctantly away, smiling as he watched the dazed, dreamy look slowly leave her eyes. “And these kids will get everything on their lists, and then some. We're going to play Santa.”

Isaiah caught her hand. “Come on, lady. Make like an elf. It's almost Christmas!”

The dreaded Christmas shopping expedition turned out to be one of the most wonderful evenings of Isaiah's life. He and Laura erred on the
side of absurd generosity as they shopped for their tree family, buying the mother a robe, nightgown, and slippers, and getting everything on the children's lists, including extra things—toys, books, art supplies, sports equipment, and clothing. To cover dinner, they decided to include a hundred-dollar gift certificate from a local supermarket so the mother could prepare a real Christmas dinner with all the trimmings, and a little left over for goodies.

For his paraplegic sister, Bethany, they found a pair of battery-powered slippers that heated up, something to keep her feet warm on cold winter evenings. They got Hank's wife, Carly, a magnifying glass with an attached light suspended from an adjustable metal arm that would clamp onto almost any surface. Isaiah knew that his sister-in-law spent every spare moment trying to train her visual cortex. Reading and looking through magazines would be much easier on her eyes with a magnifying glass.

Midway through the shopping expedition, Isaiah and Laura both got hungry. They stopped at a wine-and-cheese place. When they were seated at a table, Isaiah gazed over the candlelight at Laura's oval face, thinking that she was the best Christmas gift of all. He still had no idea of what to get her, though. He only knew that he wanted to give her the world.

“Do you have any idea how wonderful you are?” he asked.

She popped a green olive into her mouth and smiled at him around the lump. “No, but feel free to tell me.”

“You're the most fabulous thing that's ever happened in my life.”

Her eyes sparkled with happy tears. “And you're the greatest thing that's ever happened in mine.”

“I love you so much. I've always detested Christmas shopping, but you make it fun.”

She helped herself to another olive from the relish plate between them. “I'm glad. Shopping is like most other things. You can think of it as a chore—or you can turn it into an art.”