The Homespun Holiday (13 page)

“No,” Paisley mumbled.  “I’s just
makin’ a Christmas wish.”

“A wish, huh?  You wanna share what
it is?” he asked, shifting Paisley so that she sat beside him in the booth. 
Staring down into her pensive face, Mack knew he’d do most anything to put a
smile back on her tiny lips.  “Maybe I can see what I can do to make it come
true.”

“You can’t.  Only Santa can make
wishes come true.  And
everybody
knows that if you tell your wish to
anybody but Santa, it’ll
never
come true.”

“Hmmmm….” Mack hummed, wondering
what she’d seen in Jake and Heaven’s interaction that had so obviously
disturbed her.  Vowing to himself that he’d figure it out, he decided to wait
until the ride home to try and pry it out of her.  “Well, what can I do to get
you to smile?”

“Can I have another donut with the
chocolate frosting?” Paisley asked brightly.

Mack’s eyebrows went up in surprise,
and he stared at his little mini-Millie with something that very closely
resembled a kind of amazed adoration.  “How many donuts have you already eaten,
kiddo?”

“Four,” Paisley announced proudly,
shoving four fingers under Mack’s nose.

“Oomph,” Mack grunted as two of
those fingers hooked in his nostril.  Gently capturing his charge’s hand, he
shook his head.  “Would your momma let you have a fifth donut?” he asked
doubtfully.

“Oh, I think so.  See, donuts have
sugar in ‘em.  And sugar is fuel for my body.  And my body needs lots of fuel
to power my day.  So donuts are reaaaaallllly good.  My teacher told us so at
school.”

Equal parts impressed and horrified
at the child’s logic, Mack shook his head.   “Did you learn this from the same
teacher that got upset that you knew the word ‘vagina’?”

“Nope.  Dis was the P.E. teacher. 
She teaches us stuff ‘bout our bodies,” Paisley returned, the added hopefully,
“So, can I have another donut?”

Clearly his little angel was
chasing her sugar high, pursuing it with a vengeance that rivaled any addicts
craving.  “I think you’ve had enough, sweetheart.”

“But my tummy feels soooooo empty,
Dr. Mack,” Paisley whimpered, pushing out her lower lip and staring up at him
with a pitiful expression.

“What about a nice fresh fruit or
fresh vegetable cup?” Mack bargained hopefully.  “From what I hear, they come
with a little cup of ranch stuff to dip your fruit or veggies in.”

“Ewwwww,” Paisley grumbled,
sticking her tongue out and shaking her head. 

“Fruit and vegetables have sugar in
them, too.  Those kind of healthy foods will still fuel your body,” Mack
reasoned, tilting his head as he grinned at the girl beside him.

“Yeah, but like grandpa says…it’ll
be plain ol’ unleaded fuel.  I want the premium stuff.  It’s like grandpa
says.  Why settle for Hershey’s when you can have Gooodiva,” Paisley said
plainly as she pouted up at him.

Mack had to swallow his laugh.  “Do
you even know what Godiva is?”

“Nope, but it must be pretty good
if my gramps is willing to turn down a Hershey’s candy bar,” Paisley offered
with a shrug of her shoulders.

Damn, but this kid was gonna keep
him on his toes until he was lowered six feet into the ground, and he was going
to enjoy every single second of it, Mack silently admitted to himself.  “That
may be true, my little con artist, but fruits and veggies cups will still get
the job done if you’re
really
hungry.  Now, would you like me to order
one of those?” he asked as her little face turned mutinous.

“I thought we were friends, Dr.
Mack,” Paisley offered unhappily.

“We are,” Mack stated quickly. 
“And in order to stay friends with you, I have to follow your mother’s rules. 
And I’m pretty sure that your mother would say one of her rules is no more than
four donuts per café visit.  Now, am I ordering a fruit cup or are you ready to
go home and wait for your momma?”

Paisley bit her lip as she eyed her
audience.  “It ‘pends, Dr. Mack.  When we get home, can we watch The Princess
Frog ‘gain?”

Mack wanted to groan.  Over the
course of their day together, he’d been forced to watch that stupid frog three
times.  Of course, the frog was better on any day of the week than those five
singing wieners that called themselves The Wiggles, he reminded himself with a
shudder.  Honest to God, he’d wanted to gouge out his eardrums with a rusty
spoon after he heard those fuckers sing this morning.  Nobody should have those
baying turds inflicted on them before they have at least a whole pot of coffee
shot into their bloodstream.

“I think I can live with another
viewing of The Princess Frog, Princess.  Just no more Wiggles for me, okay?”
Mack reminded her gently.

“I know!  I know!  They’re agents
for the Devil.  You already telled me, Dr. Mack,” Paisley grumbled, her grouchy
words bearing a marked resemblance to the adult in charge of her well-being at
the moment. 

“Alright then.  Sounds like we have
a plan,” Mack said as he slid out of the booth and picked up Paisley’s bright
yellow coat.  Helping her slide it on, he knelt to zip it for her.  “You ready
to roll, co-pilot?”

“Let’s do it,” Paisley shouted,
punching the air with one tiny fist before latching onto Mack’s hand.

Minutes later, Paisley sat,
content, in the back seat of Mack’s Navigator.  “You okay back there, Squirt? 
Warm enough?” Mack asked, looking at the little girl in his rear view mirror as
she settled into the booster seat he’d picked up last week and installed into
his SUV.

“I’m toasty warm, Dr. Mack,”
Paisley announced happily, staring straight at the back of his head with a
smile on her face.

“Good,” Mack murmured, turning onto
the long stretch of county road that would take him into the sub-division where
he lived.  “So, Miss P, how ‘bout you tell me what you want for Christmas. 
Santa called me last night and told me that he’d misplaced your Christmas
list.  He asked me if I’d ask you so that he could get your order right.”

“Santa
called
you
?”
Paisley’s awed little voice asked as her eyes dilated. 

“Uh, if you’re talking about the big
bearded man in the red suit that delivers gifts, then, yes, he called
me
,”
Mack said, sticking to the script he’d written for himself last night.  “Santa
tried calling your momma first, but she wasn’t answering her phone so he called
me.”  He wanted this Christmas to be special for Millie’s little girl,
especially since it would be the first of many with him in the picture.  If he
could get this kid everything her little heart desired, he would, and screw
Millie’s order to not spoil her child.  If you couldn’t spoil a kid at
Christmas, when could you do it?

“I want what Santa brought my
friend, Isabella, last Christmas.  I want what Izzy and Heaven got real bad,
but I don’t think Santa will bring it.  I must not be as good as dey are ‘cause
Santa forgot my wish last year,” Paisley mumbled sadly from the backseat.  A
look in the rearview mirror confirmed that the kid was fighting tears, and Mack
didn’t like that at all.  What the hell did those two kids have that Paisley
thought she could never get, huh? 

“What’s that, Princess?  You’re
every bit as good as your friends, Sweetheart.  I’m sure Santa didn’t forget
your wish.  He probably just ran out of whatever it is you wanted,” Mack tried
to persuade the tearful kid in his backseat.  Why the hell did he feel the
sudden urge to find the nearest Santa Claus and punch him in the nose?  He knew
that wasn’t a sane reaction, but still…the urge was high and strong.

“That’s what Heaven said today, but
I don’t know.  I think it’s ‘cause techily, I’ve already got one of what I’m
asking Santa to get me.”

“Do you mean ‘technically’,
Squirt?” Mack asked, trying desperately to follow the kid’s line of thought.

“Uh huh, see
technically
, I
already got the thing I want the most from Santa.  But it shouldn’t count, Dr. Mack! 
It’s not even
here
anymore,” Paisley explained, frowning as she turned
her head to look out the window.

His eyes darted to the rearview
mirror.  Taking in the little girl’s distressed expression, Mack’s hands
tightened on the wheel.  “Baby, what is it that Santa thinks you already have?”

“A daddy, Dr. Mack!” Paisley
blurted, slapping a hand against her mouth as she realized that she’d told her
Christmas wish to another living soul.  “Now, I’ll never get one ‘cause I
blabbed it.  It’s s’posed to be a secret,” she whimpered behind her hand. 

Mack steered his vehicle into his
sub-division, turning the SUV carefully onto the street where he lived as he
mentally ordered his own heartbeat to slow down.  “Paisley, it’s okay,” his
deep voice soothed softly as he gratefully spotted his driveway ahead of them. 
“Santa asked me to get your order for him, remember?  He’s not going to care a
bit that you told me.”  Parking in his driveway, he quickly killed the engine
and turned in his seat to look at the little girl.  “I swear, Squirt, Santa
isn’t gonna hold your present hostage because you told me what you really
wanted.  Let’s go inside, okay?  I’ll see about getting you some cookies and
milk, and you can tell me more about why you think Santa didn’t bring you a
daddy.  Deal?”

“Deal,” Paisley sniffled.  “Are the
cookies chocolate chip?” she asked with a kind of innocent stare that twisted
Mack’s heart.

Mack chuckled as he opened his
vehicle door.  “I think I can rustle some of those up for you,” he told her
with a smile as he opened her door for her and helped her out of her booster
seat and down onto the pavement. 

He quickly led her toward the house
and unlocked the front door.  Stepping into his foyer, he helped her take off
her coat and draped it over a peg on the wall before taking off his own jacket
and doing the same.  “You go on into the living room and I’ll get those cookies,”
he told the little girl.

“Okay, Dr. Mack,” she agreed with a
nod before skipping off into the living room.

Sighing, Mack headed for the
kitchen, shaking his head.  Maybe it wasn’t going to be as hard to get the
green light from Paisley as he feared it would be.  She seemed to desperately
want a daddy, and there was nothing in the world that he’d rather do than be
her father and Millie’s husband.  Yes, it was fast, but it felt damn right, and
he’d never been one that could ignore his feelings for long.  Self-denial
wasn’t in his vocabulary.

He quickly dropped a few of the
chocolate chunk cookies his mom had made earlier in the day on a plate and
poured a glass of milk into a plastic tumbler.  A glance at the clock on the
wall assured him that his mom and sister would still be looking at apartments
and Millie would still be shopping for another hour at least.  Carrying the
plate from the kitchen to the living room, he could already hear the television
going and he grinned.  It hadn’t taken Paisley any time at all to feel
comfortable in his home. 

“Okay, Princess, cookies and milk,”
he proclaimed as he held out the platter of cookies for her royal highness to
inspect.  “Let’s not tell your momma about how much chocolate I gave you today,
okay?” he requested, sliding the cookies and milk on the coffee table in front
of his leather couch.

“’Kay,” Paisley assented brightly,
reaching out to snag one of the round cookies before settling back onto the
sofa, her legs crossed Indian style as she happily munched on her treat.

“Alright, Paisley,” Mack began,
taking the seat beside her.  “Let’s talk about this daddy business so that I
can get your order into Santa tonight.”

“Wellllll,” Paisley drawled,
breaking off a hunk of cookie and stuffing it into her mouth before chewing
thoughtfully, “It’s like this,” she said, crumbs flying from her lips.  “I
think I’ve already gots a daddy, but I don’t remember him a’tall.  I think his
name is Dumbass.”

Mack nearly choked on his tongue. 
“What?” he sputtered.

“Yeah, I think his name is
Dumbass.  That’s what I heared my Auntie Bethanne call him all the time!”
Paisley elaborated.

Mack had met Millie’s sister
Bethanne several times over the months since he’d hired the woman he loved.  He
had no problem at all imagining the little spitfire calling Paisley’s sperm
donor names.  He’d heard a few of the more creative things she’d called him the
night that Beth had warned him that if he ever hurt her sister the way John
had, she’d drive to an alligator farm she’d once visited in Florida and feed
him to them, piece by piece.  He hadn’t been the least bit alarmed since
Millie’s sister was probably a hundred pounds when she was soaking wet, but he
had admired her loyalty to Millicent.  “Dumbass, huh?” Mack choked when he
managed to be able to form a coherent word.

“Yep.  But you ain’t s’posed to say
that word,” Paisley warned, shaking her head as she blinked up at him.

“Dumbass?” Mack asked, to clarify
things.

“Uh huh,” Paisley affirmed with a
nod.  “It’s an ugly word.  Momma says we can’t use ugly words.  You lose
television time when you do.”

“Good to know,” Mack murmured.

“Anyway, I guess I gots a daddy,
Dr. Mack, but he don’t want me,” she informed him in a whisper.