Little Christmas Miracles. Barbara Hannay
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“Sure, I can do that.”
“So, if we got Toby a dog for Christmas, you could help us with that problem?”
“Yes, ma’am. Is he going to get a dog?”
“Maybe. Do you like dogs?”
“Yeah,” Albert said, getting so excited he forgot his usual response. “I always had dogs until—I mean, when I started working for you and your husband.”
“You and Delores have your own quarters here, Albert. Couldn’t you have had a dog here?”
“No, ma’am. Your husband told me I couldn’t.”
“Oh, Albert, I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, ma’am. He was probably right.”
“Well, I’m sure Toby would share his dog with you.”
Molly wasn’t so sure about that.
“It’s not definite, Albert. Elizabeth is going to discuss it with her son,” Molly said. “Please don’t mention it to Toby.”
“No, ma’am, I wouldn’t do that.”
“Of course not, Albert,” Elizabeth agreed. “That’s all I needed. I wanted to be able to tell Richard you could help us.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He hurried back to the kitchen.
“I think this will work out well,” Elizabeth said, smiling.
Molly wanted to warn her again, but she didn’t think she should. Hopefully Richard wouldn’t think this was her idea. If he thought that, he would probably ship her off to Florida before Christmas even got here.
Richard said goodbye to his happy employees. He’d passed out their bonuses at the party they had just before noon. It had been a good year and he believed in sharing the profits.
Wearily he returned to his office and loaded his briefcase so he could work on his cases at home. Clients being sued didn’t care that it was Christmas.
When he got home, his mother and Toby were taking their afternoon naps. Albert had taken Molly to North Park, the shopping mall near their house.
“Do you have anything I could eat for lunch, Delores? All we served at the party were hors d’oeuvres and cakes and cookies. And most of it was gone before I had a chance to nibble.”
“Of course, Richard. You want to eat in the breakfast room?”
“Yes, please. I’ll go wash up and meet you there.”
He often ate a late meal in the breakfast room. It seemed silly to have them serve him in the dining room.
Five minutes later, Delores presented him with a roast beef sandwich with chips and a Diet Coke. Perfect.
As he ate, the silence of the house seemed deafening. Perhaps it was the sharp contrast to the raucous party he’d just left, loud with holiday music and laughter. His employees knew how to kick off their shoes and have a good time, dancing to “All I Want for Christmas” and “Santa Baby” on his secretary’s boom box. She’d even asked him to take a turn on the reception area-turned dance floor, but he’d declined. Somehow when he thought of dancing it wasn’t his secretary but Molly he saw as his partner.
He’d had to literally shake his head to erase that image.
Then and now.
He ripped off a bite of his sandwich, determined to get control of his errant thoughts, when he heard musical laughter coming from the back door. Molly. She’d come into the kitchen with Albert, giggling at some private joke.
Once again the image of her in his arms was being painted by a master right before his mind’s eye. She was dressed in red, a slinky, off-the-shoulder gown with high heels; her glowing hair kissed her shoulders, swaying with the rhythm of the music. As they danced, all the other holiday revelers faded away, till there was only them.
Richard lived the fantasy until the real thing appeared at the door of the breakfast room.
Molly came to an abrupt halt when she saw him sitting there.
He cleared his throat. “Good afternoon, Molly.” Seeing her laden with packages, he asked, “Did you have a nice shopping trip? Why didn’t Albert let you out at the door so you wouldn’t catch cold?”
Still standing in the doorway, like a deer caught in the headlights, Molly replied, “I told him it wasn’t necessary. After all, I’m not family. I work for you just as he does.”
True, he thought, but Albert didn’t appear in his daydreams.
He kept that remark to himself. Instead he voiced, “He should at least carry your packages for you.”
“I’m fine.” Stepping back, she added, “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
“No.” He couldn’t let her go. For some reason he wanted her company right now.
What was wrong with him? It wasn’t the spiked egg nog he’d had at the office; there wasn’t enough brandy in that to make him act so out of character. Whatever it was, he had to get himself under control. For Toby’s sake.
Molly, he noticed, looked at him oddly. Covering for himself, he explained, “I prefer not to eat alone. Why don’t you join me? Have a drink, at least.” Not waiting for her assent, he called for Louisa and Albert, who appeared almost instantly. He directed Albert to take Molly’s packages to her room, and Louisa to bring her a Diet Coke.
Molly tried to think of a way out of being in Richard’s company, but she couldn’t come up with anything. Toby was napping, as was Elizabeth. And he was her host…and her boss.
Dutifully she sat down—at the opposite end of the table. Apparently that wasn’t good enough.
“Why so far away? Come sit next to me.” Richard pointed to his left, and Molly reluctantly obliged.
“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming, Molly.”
“I’m sorry, but I was capable of carrying my purchases upstairs.”
“I’m sure you are, but why not relax and enjoy a drink?”
Louisa entered again and set down a plate of warm cookies.
“See? There’s more to enjoy. Thank you, Louisa.”
“Albert should be the one receiving the reward,” Molly said stubbornly.
“He’ll get warm cookies as soon as he gets to the kitchen again.” He looked up as Albert entered the room. “You’d better hurry, Albert. Delores just baked cookies.”
“I’m on my way.” Albert grinned.
“Satisfied?” Richard asked after Albert left.
“Yes, thank you,” Molly said, wishing she weren’t. She knew Albert didn’t have a tough job and that he was well paid. But that didn’t mean he should wait on her.
“What did you buy?”
She stiffened. Richard wanted idle conversation? This was so unlike him. “Just some odds and ends,” she replied.
“Did you enjoy North Park? I thought Toby might like to see it. Their holiday decorations are usually spectacular. Did they lift your spirits?”
“My spirits didn’t need lifting, Richard.”
“Oh, right, I forgot.You’re filled with the Christmas spirit.”
She shoved her chair from the table. “If you’ll—”
He grabbed her hand and stopped her departure. “You haven’t even touched your snack. You don’t want to hurt Delores’s feelings, do you?” Then, as if burned, he pulled his hand back. But her forearm still tingled from his touch.