Unexpected Gifts

"Okay, let's get moving," called the boss.

"You got it, Mr. K," Rudy answered.

Don sighed as he got ready for the longest Christmas of his life.

x-x-x-x

Dec 25

"You sure you don't want to come?" Isabella sounded anxious. "I'm so sorry you were alone today, Jeanette."

"I'm fine," Jeanette assured her sister. Except for feeling like half of me is missing. She kept that to herself. "I'm sorry, I hope I'm not messing up your plans. Things just got so messed up in Minnesota that I needed to get back to my place, you know?" Part of her wanted to tell Isabella what had happened, but she wasn't ready. She wasn't over it and couldn't tell anyone until she was.

"I know," said Isabella. "I understand, really. We'll look forward to seeing you at New Year's, okay? Mom and Dad will be back, too, so it'll be nice to have everyone together."

"It will," Jeanette agreed.

"Look, I need to get to the boy, so you say Merry Christmas to Alastair, okay? He missed you, too." Isabella laughed. "He always says you make him miss the UK a little less since you're such an Anglophile."

"That's sweet. Sure, I'd love to say hi." There were muffled noises and then her very Scottish brother-in-law took the phone.

"Happy Christmas, Jeanette! Sorry you couldn't be here."

"Merry Christmas, Alastair. I'm sorry, too, but I'm looking forward to coming out next week." Jeanette smiled to herself. Alastair had changed so drastically regarding Christmas in the last two years it was hard to believe. He'd railed against the commercialism, the traffic, and anything else he could think of. Then he and Isabella had had a son, and after that Alastair was a different person. Fred was the best present he'd ever received, Alastair had proclaimed, and now Christmas was his favorite time of year.

"Listen, when you pack, would you bring a torch, Jeanette? Isabella keeps shorting out the lights and I can never find the bloody thing."

She laughed. "Of course, Alastair. Need a wrench or a hammer, too?"

"I'm a man, Jeanette. I have a full supply of tools in the shed to prove it."

"But no flashlight?"

"A torch isn't a tool."

"Of course not." They chatted for another minute until an ear-splitting shriek from Fred drew a frantic apology and good-bye from Alastair.

Jeanette shook her head, smiling at the happy chaos she imagined was in full swing at their house. She was looking forward to taking her part in it, but for now, she looked out the window and sighed. It was after eight at night on Christmas and there'd been no word from Don.

She told herself that he was busy, and that she had no idea of his work or schedule, so expecting him to call was just an exercise in frustration.

This is ridiculous, she thought as she went into the kitchen. I can't just let everything stop because he hasn't called. He said he loved me. I have to trust that he'll find me. That thought only added to the frustration.

They'd spent so much time absorbed in each other that when it came time to leave, it was a frantic, hurried effort to pack her bag and get to the airport in time for the flight. Don hadn't been much better off, saying he was cutting it close reporting for his shift. They had shared tight embraces and fevered kisses, but she'd forgotten to share crucial information. Like my last name and address, she thought angrily.

She tried to relax. She knew his name and still had the business card, which at least had Joel's number on it. Don hadn't given her his cell number, so she couldn't call him directly, which she wouldn't have anyway, not wanting to bother him at work.

One more deep breath, and Jeanette forced herself to think about other things. She turned on the television and found a PBS broadcast of a choir performing Christmas carols. At least, she thought, she'd decorated even though she'd expected to be away. It had been nice to return to a cheery apartment on Christmas Eve, with her decorations around the house and even a small tree on the dining room table. She ran her hand over a wooden cutout of Santa and his sleigh, smiling fondly at the memories it brought up.

She filled her tea kettle and turned on the burner, then rummaged through the cabinets for the hot chocolate. She took out a mug, dumped the powder in, and wondered if she had any marshmallows in the pantry.

After her drink was ready, topped with whipped cream in lieu of marshmallows, she went into the living room. She turned off all the lights and sat watching the tree, listening to the music and remembering the few days with Don.

She didn't know how long she'd been dozing before the loud clatter on the lawn jerked her out of sleep and off the couch. She was at the door in a flash, looking out the small window and wondering if a car had hit a tree. Dissatisfied with squinting through the frosted pane, she opened the door. The moon was bright and glared off the snow, making her bring up a hand to shade her eyes.

She saw someone on the lawn, their back to her as they waved at someone else. Her throat caught as she thought she recognized the build. But how could it be him? she wondered. How would he know where to find me? I never told him.

Her thoughts scattered as Don walked towards her, green eyes glinting as he smiled slyly.

"Merry Christmas," he said.

"How...?" she couldn't finish the question because too many of them wanted out at the same time and they all started with that word.

"Let's go inside and I'll tell you everything." He stood before her but she remained in the doorway, too stunned to move.

"How did you find me? How did you get here?"

Don laughed and reached out to pull her to him, needing a kiss before he answered. "How about 'I love you' first?"

She had to laugh, ecstatic now that he was actually there, in front of her, holding her. "I love you."

"Good. I love you, too."

"But still, how..."

"My boss is an incurable romantic. He let me off a little early and has an amazing ability to locate people." He kissed her again and this time she responded consciously instead of reflexively as she had at first.

"Remind me to thank your boss," she said, unable to stop smiling.

"I will," Don said. "Not too many people remember to do that. What's say we go in?" he asked when she shivered at the cold. She nodded and stepped back to hold the door for him. Before closing it, she stared out at the lawn with a frown.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know." She looked up, confused. "Why are there hoof prints on my lawn?"