Kate James - A Child's Christmas

“That’s very considerate of you. What do you have in mind?”

He chuckled again. “I haven’t got a clue!” Whenever he’d dated a woman during the holidays, invariably the gift of choice had been jewelry. He was well versed in the cut and clarity of diamonds, although he’d always stayed clear of rings. But he didn’t consider jewelry an appropriate gift for this particular woman. “That’s where I need your help, Laura. Can you give me some ideas?”

“Let me think... Yes! I know exactly the types of things she could use.”

Daniel made a list. It shocked him that he was looking forward to doing more shopping.

* * *

PAIGE WAS GRATEFUL that Jason was feeling better after his treatment. It had been his last before Christmas, and they were able to spend a quiet weekend at home. Mr. Weatherly’s gift of a small Christmas tree aside, they had an agreement with their neighbors that they wouldn’t exchange gifts, other than each of them bringing some small toy for Jason, and Jason painting everyone a picture. Since their neighbors were leaving for Christmas over the coming days, they all stopped by Paige and Jason’s apartment to offer holiday greetings. First it was Mr. and Mrs. Bennett from across the hall, Mr. Bennett making a special effort to move around despite his severe arthritis. Next it was Chelsea, brimming with excitement about introducing Joel to her parents.

Sunday morning, Jason was working with his watercolors at the dining room table. Paige sat down beside him, tilting her head to see what he was painting.

The background was a mottled green. The large form in the foreground was mostly filled with a pale burnt-orange wash, leaving some sections white. Jason was working with a fine bristle brush and undiluted black paint. As Paige watched, the form started to take the shape of a tiger—a rather well-executed one.

Where had her son gotten his talent? Neither she nor her ex-husband was artistic, but there was no denying that Jason had a gift. She began to say so when a knock sounded at the door. Jason was reaching over to put his brush down, but Paige laid a hand on his wrist. “You keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll get it.”

“Good morning, Mr. Weatherly,” Paige greeted him. He was dressed as spiffily as usual, with a vest under his houndstooth check jacket, a bow tie and a fedora.

“Hi, Mr. Weatherly!” Jason stuck his paint brush into the mason jar on the table and ran over.

“A merry Christmas to you, Jason.” He handed Jason a package wrapped in gold foil with a big red bow. “Hold on to this until Christmas,” he said with mock sternness. “Don’t open it until then.”

Jason shook the box gently and listened to the slight rattle.

“No trying to guess, either, young man!”

“Okay. And thank you. I’ll go get your gift.” Jason hurried to his room and returned carrying a large envelope, hand-decorated with a Christmas motif, and with Mr. Weatherly’s name beautifully written on the front. “This is for you.” He held the envelope out to Mr. Weatherly.

“Thank you, young man. If you don’t mind, I’ll wait to open this, too. Gifts should be opened on Christmas morning, don’t you think?”

Jason nodded.

“Mr. Weatherly, would you like a cup of tea?” Paige asked.

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

He followed Jason to the table, while Paige went into the kitchen. Their conversation drifted in to her as she made the tea.

“This is going to be a tiger, isn’t it?” he asked Jason as he studied his painting.

Jason knelt on his chair and picked up his brush. “Yes. It’s a Bengal tiger.”

“I can see that. Well done. And you’re painting it from your imagination?”

“From my memory! I saw one in a zoo once.”

“You did ?”

“Oh, it was a long time ago.” Jason added a few more black stripes to the tiger’s face. “When my dad was still around.”

He nodded. “What made you want to paint it now?”

Jason moistened the tip of his brush again and swirled it lightly over the cake of black paint. He glanced toward the kitchen doorway. Keeping his voice low, he responded. “Every year, at Christmas, I make something for my dad. Something he’d like. He really liked the tiger at the zoo, so I thought I’d paint him a picture of a tiger this year.”

Hearing her son’s words, Paige froze in the doorway, a tray with cups, milk and sugar, a pot of tea and a plate of cookies in her hands. Jason took that moment to glance up again. Their eyes met. Paige moved forward and placed the tea service on the table. She poured three cups of tea, passed Mr. Weatherly his cup, and made hers and Jason’s with a bit of sugar and some milk.

They chatted until Mr. Weatherly finished his tea and rose. “Well, I’d better be off now, since I’m leaving for my trip soon.” He held Jason’s envelope in one hand, tapping it lightly on the palm of the other. “I thank you for this, and I know I’ll love it. Merry Christmas to you both!” He gave each of them a stiff little hug, and they said their good-byes.

Paige cleaned up the tea service before rejoining Jason in the dining room.

She sat at the table, elbows resting on the surface, not quite knowing how to broach the topic of Jason’s painting. “It’s turning out really well,” she began.

“Thanks, Mom,” he mumbled, but he avoided eye contact.

Her heart had been aching from the time she’d heard Jason’s admission to Mr. Weatherly, but fresh pain seared her now. She ran a comforting hand up and down Jason’s back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about what I heard.”

His eyes darted to hers before he lowered his lashes again. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

She took the brush out of his hand, placed it back in the mason jar, then drew him into a hug. “Oh, sweetie. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” As his arms tightened around her waist, she rocked him gently. “I’d like us to talk about it, though.”

He gave her one final squeeze before settling back in his chair, but he remained silent.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jason picked up his brush and fidgeted with it. “I know we’ll probably never see Dad again,” he muttered.

Paige felt the burn of tears.

“It’s no big deal,” he said quickly. He twirled the brush between his fingers. “But every year I make something for Dad. This year, it’s the tiger. Just in case...” He shrugged. “After Christmas, I’ll put it away. I have a shoe box I use for that. Last year I made him a candy dish at school.”

Paige had wondered what had happened to the pretty blue-and-white dish.

“After Christmas, I’ll put the painting of the tiger in the box, too.”

Jason’s eyes shone with some indefinable emotion when he looked up at her, “Then if I do see him again, the presents will all be there for him.”

Paige’s heart simply shattered, but she’d die before she’d let Jason see that. She smoothed his bangs back from his forehead and brushed her lips across his brow. “That’s very thoughtful of you. It’s a beautiful painting. I know your father would love it.”

Jason straightened his shoulders and swirled his brush over the cake of black paint. “Thanks, Mom.” His voice soft, he added, “Maybe someday I will be able to give it to him.”

* * *

DANIEL WAS ASTONISHED to discover that he actually enjoyed shopping for Christmas gifts despite the crowds, noise and general cacophony. He’d even taken care of all the wrapping. Well, not personally. That was beyond his capabilities or, perhaps more accurately, his patience. But he felt good about that, too, because he’d had everything wrapped by one of those charitable gift wrapping services in the mall.