©2007 Lucy Beebe Tobias

All I Want for Christmas

Max hated Christmas.
He walked with his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his grey corduroy jacket.
“The Grinch had the right idea - who needs all that noise and laughter?”
Twenty years ago Sarah his wife gave him the jacket. She was dead a year now, left him barely six months to the day after they’d retired and moved to Florida for the good life.
His kids were Up North busy with their families. Saying it that way saved face. “Busy, my butt,” Max muttered. “I’m are out of their hair and they don’t care.”
But the old grey jacket lived on. Unlike his family, it did not desert him. He wore it for his daily constitutional. Max preferred an early morning walk. He didn’t have to talk to anyone.
Stumbling over a small stone, he gave a pebble a vicious kick, sending it flying into his neighbor’s grass.
The strains of “I’m Wishing for a White Christmas” drifted through an open window.
“I’m not wishing for a white Christmas, ” Max snorted. “How stupid is that idea on December 24 in palm tree land?”
He walked on, past the Lewis house with two tricycles in the driveway and the Stanley house with the rose garden out front. He turned the corner and came to an empty lot.
A white two-door sedan picked up speed going around the corner then burned rubber coming to a quick stop.
The passenger door opened. A hand held out a bundle then a foot emerged and kicked the bundle into the grass of the empty lot. The door slammed and the car sped off.
“Hey, littering is a crime!” Max shouted.
Curious but cautious he walked slowly to the spot where the bundle disappeared. Tall grass blocked his view. Max heard a soft whimpering sound.
“Dear God, don’t let it be a child,” he whispered. Max parted the tall grass. He bent down and looked into the hurt, puzzled eyes of a puppy.
Max gasped. He picked up the small bundle of brown fur. The puppy whimpered.
He walked home quickly, put the dog in passenger seat of his car, buckled up and went looking for a vet.
Doc Marshall heard a voice in the waiting room.
“Anybody here?”
“Yes, I’m coming.”
Max held out the small brown bundle.
“I found this by the side of the road. It was kicked out of a car.”
“Well, let’s have a look,” Doc said, carrying the bundle to a room with a table.
The puppy whimpered as Doc did his examination.
“She’s sore in the abdomen but I doubt major damage. I’d like to take an X ray to make sure.”
“Not my dog,” Max said curtly. “You take care of her. You find her a home.”
Doc rubbed his eyes and put both hands on the table.
“There was no one in the reception area because it is Christmas Eve. Everyone wants to be home with family. Me too. I’m leaving soon.”
“Well, tough, I don’t have family, why should I care? ” Max’s voice was loud, harsh.
Doc looked at Max, then down at the puppy on the table.
“No family?” he said softly. “Are you sure about that?”
The puppy had her head on Max’s hand. Her eyes were closed. When he tried to move his hand, she opened her eyes, wagged her tail and licked his hand.
Moisture flooded Max’s eyes. The room blurred. His knees felt weak and his heart thumped in his chest.
Doc picked up a chart and said briskly “Well, now, we need a name for your daughter.”
Max stared at the brown bundle for a long moment.
“Her name is Hope. She is the Christmas present I didn’t know I needed,” he whispered.
The X ray was normal. Doc gave Max some dog food.
During the night she started whimpering.
“When our son Jimmie got a puppy, this happened. Potty training. Let’s go outside,” Max said. He picked her up from a blanket on the floor. Hope knew what to do in the grass.
On Christmas morning something moved on the pillow next to his. It was Hope. She’d crawled up on the bed during the night.
“Amazing thing,” Max said, smiling. “No tree. No lights, but Christmas came anyway, thanks to you.”
The puppy opened her eyes and wagged her tail. Together Hope and Max stepped into the light of Christmas morning.