THE SECOND
LANCER CHRISTMAS Sequel to HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
"Johnny!
Welcome home, son," Murdoch exclaimed as he saw his youngest watching them
from the door.
"Well, we
were wondering if you were going to make it back in time," Scott added as
he stood and walked over to greet his brother.
"Course he
was gonna make it! What'cha think? He was gonna miss Christmas?" Jelly
chimed in, with a big whiskered grin.
"Johnny!"
Teresa cried as she flung herself into his arms. "I'm so glad you're
home!" she laughed.
"Uh,
thanks," Johnny said, a bit overwhelmed by the greeting. "I told ya
I'd be back in time," he added.
"Well, I
wasn't so sure. I hated sending you on a trip this time of year," Murdoch
said.
"Couldn't
be helped. Besides, Scott should thank you, otherwise he wouldn't have a
present from me," Johnny grinned.
"Oh,
really? You told me you had taken care of all that," Scott said
suspiciously.
"So, I
lied. Boy, it's good to home. It's colder than a .." he stopped and
grinned at Teresa. "Well, it's cold," he said instead.
"I'll go
take care a Barranca fer ya. You just warm yourself up by the fire," Jelly
said and started for the door.
"I already
took care of him, Jelly."
"But, we
didn't even hear ya ride up," he said, confused.
"That's
because I didn't want you to," Johnny explained with a glint of mischief.
Scott didn't
need an explanation, he had seen the look of contentment on his brother's face
earlier. He wrapped an arm around Johnny and headed him to the fireplace.
"You must
be hungry. Supper is in five minutes," Teresa announced as she scurried
off to tell Maria he was home.
"Nice to
know my timing's still good," Johnny grinned as he sat in front of the
fire.
"So, what
did you find for me in Stockton that you couldn't find here?" Scott asked.
Johnny thought
he looked like a kid just then and he smiled at his brother. "You mean
besides Audra Barkley?" he teased.
"Johnny,
you didn't," Murdoch started.
"No, her
brothers ain't after my hide. She wasn't even there. She and Mrs. Barkley were
in San Francisco shopping," Johnny explained.
"Well, if
I had known Victoria wasn't going to be there, we could have waited,"
Murdoch said.
"Nah,
Jarrod and I took care of everything. The papers are in my saddle bag,"
Johnny said.
"How's
Nick?" Scott asked.
"Grumpy as
ever," Johnny stated with a roll of his eyes.
*
After supper,
Johnny retrieved Murdoch's papers for him. Then he slipped to his room and hid
his special decoration. Grinning ear to ear, he could hardly wait to test his
surprise. Scott popped his head in just as Johnny closed the dresser drawer.
"Ah hah!
So that's where my present is," he exclaimed.
"Sorry to
disappoint you brother, but that ain't your present. You'll just have to wait
til tomorrow like everybody else. Were you like this as a kid? I'll bet your
grandfather had a run for his money," Johnny grinned.
Scott's smile
was small and Johnny thought a little sad. He kicked himself mentally for
saying such a stupid thing. Knowing Harlan Garrett, he wondered just what kind
of holidays Scott really had.
"I'm
sorry, Scott," he said softly.
"For what?
Listen, brother. I had every inch of that house scoped out for weeks before
Christmas. I knew every conceivable hiding place and I always knew what my
presents were before Christmas day," he stated proudly.
"Is that
so? Well not this year, brother. And you want to know why? Cause a hundred
thousand acres has a lot of good hiding places and I just happened to have
found one on my way home," he replied with just as much pride as his
brother.
Scott's face
dropped at this news. "That's not fair. I don't have time to cover one
tenth of that before tomorrow," he said in defeat.
"Nope. You
don't. So just forget about it. Tomorrow will be here soon enough. Besides, if
you’re not good, I'll tell Santa to take that present right back to the North
Pole with him," Johnny said, quite seriously.
Scott feigned
mock horror at this statement, then he burst out laughing. Johnny joined him
and they dropped to the floor beside the bed.
"What's so
funny?" Murdoch asked as he saw the two of them.
"Oh,
nothin. Your son is just a big kid, is all," Johnny said, still laughing.
"Which
one?" Murdoch asked with a grin.
"Alright,
that's cute but I'm worn out so both of you get out of here and let a man
rest," Johnny instructed and shooed them both away.
Johnny went to
bed feeling happier than he had in years. Tomorrow is going to be perfect, he
thought as he closed his eyes in anticipation of pleasant dreams.
*
The Lancers all
slept in the next day as they had no work to do and it was cold. Johnny
snuggled under the covers but he knew he wouldn't go back to sleep. That was
fine, he was just enjoying the warmth and softness of the bed. He heard Scott
come in but pretended to be asleep to see what his brother was up to.
Scott was
tiptoeing to the dresser and eased the drawer open quietly. Johnny could hardly
contain his laughter as he watched the drama unfold. Scott rummaged through the
drawer and came out empty handed. His displeasure was evident on his face and
Johnny could take no more. He stared chuckling then laughed aloud, rolling in
the bed at his brother's antics.
"How long
have you been watching?" Scott asked, embarrassed at being caught.
"Since you
came in," Johnny replied between the guffaws.
"Alright,
where is it?" Scott demanded.
"Forget
it, Boston. I ain't gonna tell you," Johnny laughed.
"Oh,
you'll tell me, brother," Scott said and he pounced on the bed.
They rolled
around like a couple of kids until they ended up on the floor. Johnny was
trying to keep his dignity by holding onto the covers, but Scott was trying as
hard to get them away from him.
"Cut it
out," Johnny yelled, trying to sound serious.
"Where is
it?" Scott demanded.
"Boys!"
Murdoch thundered.
They stopped
cold and looked sheepishly at their father as he shook his head in disgust at
them both. They were about to apologize when they saw the grin start to spread
across Murdoch's face and the three of them ended up laughing at the ridiculous
sight.
Murdoch made
himself get serious and announced breakfast and that he expected them to behave
themselves in an adult manner. Johnny wondered why they should start today. He
threw his brother out of his room and proceeded to get dressed, chuckling to
himself. If Scott only knew his present had been right under his nose the whole
time, he thought.
*
Teresa and
Maria outdid themselves and breakfast was a feast in it's own right. They
settled in the living room afterwards but Scott wasn't done with his brother
yet and the satisfied look on Johnny's face wasn't helping. It wasn't exactly
satisfaction though. It was a mixture of contentment and mischief.
"Hey,
Murdoch, tell us one of them stories about Scotland," Johnny said out of
the blue.
"Now?"
Murdoch asked.
"No, next
year," Johnny grinned sarcastically.
"I'd like
to hear about that part of our heritage myself," Scott interjected.
"Well,
alright. I'll have to think about it for a minute," Murdoch said as he
drew his eyebrows together. "You have to understand, we didn't celebrate
Christmas as a country. The church didn't believe in it. Still, we had our own
private celebration as many families did. The big celebration was New Year's
Day.
“Now, ah, yes.
This is a good one. Well, it was the Christmas I was ten I think. Yes, ten. My
father was out at sea and we were worried he wouldn't make it back in time. My
brother and I went down to the pier every day and watched the ships come in,
hoping to see his. My mother tried to keep us busy with making decorations,
plus we were still busy making our presents. In those days, we hand made our
gifts. My father smoked a pipe, so I was making him an ashtray. It was quite a
sight when I finished it," he stopped here and laughed at the memory.
"Well,
Christmas Eve came and he still wasn't home. That night, my brother and I said
a prayer for him and pretty much resigned ourselves to spending the next day
without him. Ma started working on dinner as soon as the breakfast dishes were
finished. Iain and I helped her as much as we could. I remember her telling me
to make sure I set a place for Da. She hadn't given up on him but Iain and I
just gave each other a look, knowing it would be near impossible for him to
make it back in time.
“We sat down to
supper and Ma said the prayer, making sure to include safe passage for our
father. She was just about to serve us when the door flew open and the snow
came blowing in, along with my father. He had set ashore in another port and
made his way home, fifty miles, to be with us. I think that was my best
Christmas as a boy." Murdoch finished his story and smiled to himself.
"What did
he get you for Christmas?" Scott asked.
"Is that
all you can think about? You're worse than a five year old," Johnny said
with an exasperated grin. "That was a nice story, Murdoch. Kind of a
miracle," he added.
"I like to
think it was a miracle, son. I can't imagine what he went through to get home
to us," Murdoch mused.
"What was
your brother's name?" Johnny asked.
Murdoch smiled
at him. "Iain, it means 'God's gracious gift'. Same as yours. It's the
Celtic form of John."
Johnny blushed
a little, he never knew he was named after his uncle. "What does Murdoch
mean?" he asked.
"Sea
protector, I guess my father thought I would follow in his footsteps,"
Murdoch explained. "And before you ask, Scott means just that, a
Scotsman."
"Oh,
great! You two get good names that mean something, all I get is Scott,"
the man griped.
"I'm
sorry, son, but actually your mother named you," Murdoch laughed.
*
"You want
ta hear about miracles? Hmmph, I can tell ya about miracles!" Jellifer
proclaimed.
"Well, go
on then, Jelly. Tell us about a miracle," Johnny said.
"Well,
this happened many years ago. I was livin in Colorada at the time. Workin in
the mines. We all lived in the mine camp and course we didn't have much, so we
all got together and decided we'd make sure the kids had a good Christmas. Ya
know, kinda pool our resources. Anyhow, that's what we did and me and another
feller went to town and bought all kinds of toys for the younguns. Had 'em all
wrapped up real pretty and all.
“But, on the
way back we was robbed. Yep, them devils come a swoopin down out a the rocks an
took everthin we had. We tried ta tell 'em about the kids but they didn't care.
Well, it was a sad affair, I can tell you, when we got back ta camp that
evenin. Course, nobody blamed us, but we jest didn't know what we was gonna do.
Those poor children.
“Well, come
next mornin we was all feelin purty miserable. We went up to the big tent to
have the church service and what do you think we found? All them presents
sittin in a pile in front a the alter! Yessir, it was a miracle if'n I ever did
see one," Jelly ended his story with a triumphant nod of the head.
Johnny was
grinning ear to ear when he finished. Scott and Murdoch were smiling as well,
but more at the outrageousness of Jelly's claim.
"It sounds
to me like those thieves had a change of heart, Jelly," Scott said.
"Or, they
realized they had no use for toys," Murdoch suggested.
"Well, I
never! You think fer one minute them heathens cared one way or tother bout them
younguns? Course not! I'm tellin ya it was a miracle!" Jelly balked.
"It sure
was, Jelly," Johnny said quietly.
They all looked
at him, Jelly with appreciation, the other two with dismay.
"What?
Don't you two believe in miracles?" Johnny asked.
"I'm
astounded that you do, Johnny," Scott said.
"Why?"
"Well, I
don't know. You just don't seem to be very ... religious," Scott said a
bit hesitantly.
"Religion
ain't got nothin to do with it, Boston. Religion is somethin people think up.
It rarely has to do with God," Johnny explained.
"That's
pretty cynical, isn't it, son?" Murdoch asked.
"No, I
don't think so. All I know is what I see. And what I see is usually some guy in
a dress with his hand out. I really don't think the Lord needs our money,"
Johnny replied.
"Well,
son, I think that money is used to keep the churches open and to help the
communities," Murdoch said.
"Like I
said, all I know is what I see, and what I see ain't very charitable."
"Okay.
Maybe we should change the subject," Scott said.
"Look, I'm
not saying I don't believe in God. Anyway, I liked your story, Jelly, and I
believe it," Johnny said with finality.
"Thank
you. Glad somebody round here's got some sense," Jelly grumbled.
*
"What
about you, Scott. Do you have a story?" Murdoch asked.
"Yeah, he's
got a million of 'em. All about how he managed to find out what his presents
were before Christmas day," Johnny laughed.
Scott reached
over and gave his brother a shot in the gut. "As a matter of fact, I do
have a story. When I was fourteen, the church was having a bazaar to help raise
money for the poor and I helped out. We raised a pretty sizable sum and we used
some of it to have Christmas supper at the church for those who couldn't afford
their own. I helped cook and serve."
"Whoa, you
cooked! How many of those poor people ended up poisoned?" Johnny
interrupted.
Another shot to
the gut, a little harder this time.
"As I was
saying, I spent Christmas Eve with them and, though no miracles happened, it
was probably the best Christmas I ever had as a child. The look on their faces
was astounding. They were so grateful. I remember this one older man who I had
just served. I watched him take his plate outside so I followed him. He went
around to the alley and sat down. I started to ask him to come back inside and
get warm, when I realized he wasn't alone. He was feeding his dog. He explained
to me that the dogs never got to come in for dinner and he didn't think it was
fair just because they weren't human. I went back in and fixed a plate of bones
and scraps and brought it out to him. He actually cried. It was ..." Scott
stopped, feeling the catch in his throat.
"That was
nice, Boston. Really," Johnny said sincerely.
"It was,
son. That was a wonderful story," Murdoch agreed.
"Real
purty, Scott," Jelly said and sniffled.
*
"Well,
brother, your turn," Scott said.
Murdoch cleared
his throat and shot Scott a look that Johnny did not miss. He didn't get angry
though, he knew his father didn't mean anything by it, still he never could hold
his tongue.
"Gee,
Scott, I thought last year was great," he said and laughed.
"What
happened last year?" Jelly asked.
"Never
mind, Jelly. It was ugly," Johnny said.
"It wasn't
that bad," Murdoch said in defense.
"Oh, okay
Murdoch. Whatever you say," Johnny said, still laughing. "Well, My
Christmas story hasn't ended yet so I guess I'll have to save it for next
year," he added.
"Your, uh,
mother loved Christmas," Murdoch ventured.
Johnny looked
at his father, trying to gauge what it was he wanted to know.
"Yeah,
Mass was a lot of fun. I get all tingly just thinkin about it," he smiled.
Scott had to
laugh at this. The image of his brother sitting through Mass was too comical.
"Sorry, I just can't imagine you in church, Johnny," he said.
"Me
neither. But there I was, sleeping peacefully," he said with a grin.
They all
laughed then and Johnny sighed inwardly with relief. He had dodged another
bullet.
"Gentlemen,
supper is almost ready. I suggest you all get dressed," Teresa announced.
"Something
wrong with your eyes, Teresa? We ain't naked," Johnny teased.
"You know
perfectly well what I'm talking about, Johnny Lancer. We went through this at
Thanksgiving, remember?"
Johnny gave a
melodramatic shudder. "Don't remind me," he said and took off running
for the stairs as she came at him with a towel in hand.
"I think
she means it, gentlemen," Scott said and headed for the stairs with
Murdoch and Jelly in tow.
*
"Where is
he?" Teresa asked as they all waited for the youngest Lancer to make an
appearance at the table.
"Maybe he
hung himself with a tie," Scott teased.
Teresa was not
amused and she rolled her eyes at him. She was about to ask Murdoch to haul him
to dinner, when Johnny came bouncing down the stairs. Her mouth dropped open as
did everyone else's as they followed her stare.
Johnny entered
the room wearing a new crisp white shirt with a waist length bolero jacket that
had colorful buttons and embroidered designs along the lapels, a string tie, black
pants and his boots shone from a high polish. Murdoch thought he looked like
the finest caballero. He smiled with pride as he stood to take in the full
affect of his handsome son.
"What are
you all gawkin at?" he asked as he took his seat.
"Johnny,
you look so handsome," Teresa flushed.
"Well,
thank you, Teresa. Are we gonna eat or not?" he said.
Maria brought
out the turkey and stopped in her tracks, her face lighting with a smile.
"¡Ahora
esto es a qué el hijo de un caballero debe vestir! Usted es muy hermoso,
Johnny," she said. (Now this is how the son of a gentleman should dress!
You are very handsome, Johnny)
"Gracias,
María. Usted parece hermoso. ¿Esto es un vestido nuevo?" Johnny replied.
(Thank you, Maria. You look beautiful. Is that a new dress?)
"Sí es.
Gracias por notar," she said and blushed a little. (Yes it is. Thank you
for noticing.)
"De
nada," he smiled lovingly at her.
"If you’re
through flirting with Maria, son," Murdoch grinned.
"Well, you
all look so handsome," Teresa gushed.
"And you
are beautiful, my dear," Murdoch reciprocated.
"Yes, you
are, Teresa. That sure is a pretty dress," Johnny agreed.
"Well, I'd
say we have the two most beautiful woman in the valley right here," Scott
concurred.
"Oh, you
three," Teresa said and wiped her eyes.
"Not that
anybody asked me or nothin, but I KNOW we got the purtiest ladies, but Johnny,
I think you're the purtiest one here," Jelly said.
Johnny gave him
a shot on the arm and grinned, thinking about how he would have his vengeance
later on the old fella. He leaned over and whispered something in his father's
ear and Murdoch smiled and nodded his head.
Johnny got up
and slipped into the kitchen while Maria was setting the food on the table. He
was back in a flash with a plate and silverware and Murdoch got up and walked
around behind Maria. When she turned to look at him, he held out his arm for
her to take. She did so, suspiciously, and he escorted her to the place Johnny
had set for her beside Scott. Seeing what was happening, Scott stood up and
pulled out the chair for her.
They all
thought the ladies would spend the night bawling their eyes out but they
recovered enough to enjoy the meal.
"Before we
begin, there's a poem I'm very fond of that I'd like to tell you all. It's by
Robert Burns, a countryman of mine. I've always read it at Christmas and I'd
like to recite it for all of you, if there are no objections," Murdoch
announced.
Everyone looked
at each other a bit surprised, but all nodded their agreement.
"I think
you'll understand why I like it so much when you hear it," Murdoch
prefaced, then cleared his throat and stood up to begin.
Farewell Song
To The Banks Of Ayr
The gloomy
night is gath'ring fast,
Loud roars the
wild, inconstant blast,
Yon murky cloud
is foul with rain,
I see it
driving o'er the plain;
The hunter now
has left the moor.
The scatt'red
coveys meet secure;
While here I
wander, prest with care,
Along the
lonely banks of Ayr.
The Autumn
mourns her rip'ning corn
By early
Winter's ravage torn;
Across her
placid, azure sky,
She sees the
scowling tempest fly:
Chill runs my
blood to hear it rave;
I think upon
the stormy wave,
Where many a
danger I must dare,
Far from the
bonie banks of Ayr.
'Tis not the
surging billow's roar,
'Tis not that
fatal, deadly shore;
Tho' death in
ev'ry shape appear,
The wretched
have no more to fear:
But round my
heart the ties are bound,
That heart
transpierc'd with many a wound;
These bleed
afresh, those ties I tear,
To leave the
bonie banks of Ayr.
Farewell, old
Coila's hills and dales,
Her healthy
moors and winding vales;
The scenes
where wretched Fancy roves,
Pursuing past,
unhappy loves!
Farewell, my
friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with
these, my love with those:
The bursting
tears my heart declare-
Farewell, the
bonie banks of Ayr!
Silence
permeated the room when he finished. Scott was the first to speak.
"I've
always liked that poem, but I never really knew why until now," he said
quietly.
"It was
beautiful," Teresa agreed.
"Sounded
real nice, Murdoch. Can't say I understood it too much," Jelly said a bit
bashfully.
"I
understood it. It was perfect," Johnny said softly, giving his father a
smile.
*
After supper
and a lost battle to convince the ladies the dishes could wait, the men
gathered once more in the living room. Murdoch served the brandy and he and
Jelly had a cigar. Scott was getting antsy and this kept his brother amused
until Teresa joined them.
"Now can
we open presents?" Scott asked.
"Yes,
Scott," Teresa smiled.
"Wait,
isn't there some kind of tradition we're forgetting?" Johnny asked
sincerely.
They all tried
to think but no one could come up with anything.
"No, I'm
sure we're forgetting something," Johnny said as he stood and pretended to
pace the room.
"You're
just trying to delay opening the presents," Scott said.
Johnny had
worked his way behind Jelly and was smiling. "Oh, I remember now!" he
said and pulled the mistletoe out of his pocket.
He hung it over
Jelly's head and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. Jelly spurted and spewed and
jumped out of the chair, rubbing his cheek. Johnny was on the floor, laughing
and the rest of them had to hold on to their seats to keep from joining him.
"Awwww,
that weren't funny, Johnny!" Jelly huffed and puffed.
"W..well
now, Jelly. You s..said I was purty. W..what's the matter?" Johnny was
having a hard time getting his breath and his sides were aching by now.
"Well, I
lied. Ya ain't purty and ya shore ain't funny!" he groused. Jelly started
for the door mumbling about unappreciative children and Johnny got up and went
after him.
"Jelly,
wait. I was just funnin ya. Come on, you know I love you," he said
sincerely.
Jelly turned
red and mumbled something under his breath that Johnny couldn't understand, but
he came back in anyway. Johnny whispered something to him and he grinned.
"Okay, NOW
can we open presents," Scott asked.
"Yes, son.
Go ahead," Murdoch said, grinning at his boy.
*
With paper
strewn all around, Scott was most pleased with his holiday. Only one thing was
missing, Johnny's present to him. He leered at his brother and spoke with his
eyes. Johnny pretended not to understand and just looked at him innocently.
Scott was ready to belt him.
"Well?"
he asked.
"Hmmm? Are
you talking to me, brother?" Johnny asked, looking like the cat that ate
the canary.
"Well, I'm
not going to beg," Scott said indignantly.
"Why
not?" Johnny asked.
Scott came at
him and he moved deftly out of the way.
"Okay,
okay. I'll get it. Geez, you'd think it was a diamond or somethin. Really,
Scott it's not that much," he said.
"Johnny!"
Scott yelled in exasperation.
Johnny smiled
his most charming and headed up the stairs.
"You know,
Scott. You would think you had been underprivileged, the way you act about
presents," Murdoch teased.
"In case
you didn't notice, Murdoch, I love Christmas," Scott retorted.
Murdoch
laughed, "Yes, I think I noticed that."
**
Johnny came
downstairs, slowly, holding a rather large parcel. He stopped in front of the
hallway mirror and smoothed his hair. He stopped again and picked at some
imaginary lint on his pants. He went over and kissed Teresa's cheek and thanked
her for her gift. He started toward Murdoch and Scott stuck out his leg and
stopped him as he tried to pass. Johnny grinned at him.
"Oh,
right. I forgot. Here ya go. Feliz Navidad, mi hermano," he said.
Scott had to
stand up as he ripped the paper away and opened the package. He stared
awestruck at the contents, a lump forming in his throat. He swallowed hard and
looked at his brother.
"How did
you?" he started.
Johnny simply
shrugged.
"Well,
what is it?" Teresa asked.
Scott looked at
her, then at his father, the emotions glowing on his cheeks.
"Scott, what is it? You look like you’re
ready to pass out," Murdoch said.
Scott turned
the picture around and Murdoch found himself staring at a portrait of his first
wife. Not just a portrait, but the most life-like portrait he had ever seen. It
captured her perfectly. Her eyes, her smile, her expression were, well perfect.
He stared in utter amazement at his youngest son.
"You
didn't get this in Stockton," he whispered.
"Oh no, I
got the frame in Stockton. I couldn't find one around here for nothin,"
Johnny explained.
"But how,
where? Johnny, where did you get this made?" Scott asked, still
dumbfounded.
Johnny felt a
little embarrassed at the attention. He wasn't expecting all these questions.
He only wanted to do something for his brother.
"Well, I,
uh, found some photographs of her. They all seemed so different, I mean each
one showed something different about her. So I just kinda put them all together
and came up with this. I hope it looks like her," he explained.
"Looks
like her?! Johnny, it's perfect. It's so ... life-like. Whoever painted this
did an incredible job!" Murdoch exclaimed.
"Thanks,"
Johnny mumbled.
Murdoch looked
closely at his son. "Are you saying you did this? You painted this?"
he asked incredulously.
"Yeah."
"Johnny?
When? I mean, how?" Scott tried to ask the questions he wanted to know the
answers to.
"I’ve been
working on it for months, Boston. Do you like it?"
"Like it?
I love it. Thank you. Thank you so much, brother," Scott said huskily and
hugged him.
"I didn't know
you could paint, Johnny. You've got a real talent," Murdoch said, still
totally awestruck.
"I don't
do it much, I like to draw more than paint," Johnny shrugged it off as if
it were nothing.
"Johnny,
how long have you been drawing, painting, whatever?" Murdoch asked.
"Long as I
can remember. Look it's not a big deal. I didn't mean for everybody to get all
wrapped up," he said, embarrassed.
"You're
very talented, Johnny. You should do this more often. I can't believe you did
this for me. It means so much. I'm so grateful that you're my brother,"
Scott said, still trying to hold back the emotions.
"Geez,
don't get all blubbery on me, Scott. I do have one more thing for you,"
Johnny said, turning serious.
"What
could top this?" Scott asked, incredulously.
"Well, ya
gotta close your eyes so I can take it out. I want you to get the full
effect," Johnny said straight-faced.
Scott set the
portrait aside and closed his eyes. Jelly covered his mouth to hold in his
laughter. Johnny pulled out his mistletoe and hung it over his brother's head.
"Okay,
open your eyes," he said.
Just as Scott
opened his eyes, Johnny planted a kiss on his cheek and swung the mistletoe in
front of him. He didn't get the reaction he had planned though, as Scott took
hold of his hand, placing it over Johnny's own head and kissed his brother
back.
Johnny turned
red and pulled away, right into his father who was waiting his turn. They all
ganged up on him and threw him on the couch. He was inundated with mistletoe
mirth, but he wasn't fighting it. He was happier than he had ever been. This
was his perfect Christmas story and it was definitely a miracle.
THE END
NOTE: Poem by
Robert Burns of Scotland. I liked it so I thought I'd throw it in somewhere. :)