I consider Taylor more of an elf than a cupid.

Hope Is Born Again

"Let's sit down over here," Joss said and led the way thru the loud, crowded food court to the bench on the far side of the room. With his triple-dipped ice cream cone clutched tight in his hand, Taylor followed his mother. Settled down on the marble bench, he set the large bag between his feet and took a big lick of the ice cream. The sound of Christmas Carols came over the speakers to add in with the chaos and mayhem.

"I was wondering if we might be able to talk," Joss said.

"Sure, Mom. What about?" Taylor asked.

"I want to apologize for the way I acted when you and Officer Reese brought home the tree. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

"We should have asked."

"No." Joss shook her head. "You shouldn't have. I made an unreasonable demand on you because I was hurting inside."

Taylor gave her a solemn look. "It has to do with Dad, doesn't it?"

"It does. It did. We had a fight over the tree right before he died," she revealed. "He was coming home to throw it away."

"That's not very nice. Is that why you didn't want one? Because you made him mad?" Taylor asked.

"I didn't want one because I felt guilty," Joss confessed. "I know it sounds childish."

"You were hurting, Mom. You were wrong, and Dad was wrong. Is that why you went to see him?"

Joss blinked. "How did you know?"

Taylor casually licked his cone. "A kid knows these things, Mom. Besides, where else would you have gone?"

"You're going to make a great lawyer."

"I'd rather be a detective. So...what did you tell him?"

"Tell who?"

"Dad."

"That I was sorry."

"Did you tell him about Officer Reese?"

"What is this, Twenty Questions? And why do you need to know?" Joss shot back.

"Because I have a quizitive mind."

"I think you mean inquisitive," she corrected.

"Yeah, that. Did you?"

"Yes."

"So...?"

"So, what?"

"Are you going to marry him?" Taylor asked bluntly.

"Marry who? John?"

"Yeah."

Joss shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "I... Taylor...I don't know if I should be discussing this..."

"If he's going to be my dad, then you should," Taylor interrupted. "Do you love him?"

"Yes."

"I think he loves you too. So marry him."

"Taylor..." Joss shook her head. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Joss took the ice cream from Taylor and gave it a couple licks.

"From the way I see it, you said you're sorry to Dad, and you love Officer Reese. It it got any simpler, Santa could marry you two."

"He's not talking to me."

"Santa?"

"No. John, smart aleck." Joss handed back the cone.

"Go talk to him. I know! Invite him to the Christmas Eve program at church tomorrow night," Taylor suggested.

"That may not be a good idea." She didn't want to divulge how she had driven to John's house upon arriving back to town and finding the residence empty. Her heart had sighed sadly as she realized that maybe he didn't want anything to do with her.

Taylor cocked his head to the right, and then to the left. "It's the best one I can come up with. Do you have better one?"

"Not really. No," she reluctantly admitted defeat at the mind of a ten year old.

"Ask him out. Then go for ice cream or a movie. Then come home and we'll unwrap presents," Taylor laid it out without so much as blinking an eye.

Joss scrutinized her son carefully. "What are you up to, T?"

"Nothing. It's Christmas and you should be happy."

"Hmmm..." Joss sighed. "I think you have something up your sleeve."

Taylor raised his arm and pulled the cuff out to peer down the sleeve. "Nope. Nothing there." He checked his other arm. "Nope. Nothing there, too."

"Wise guy," Joss muttered and rumpled Taylor's hair. "I'll ask him. Happy?"

"Almost," Taylor replied slyly.

"What if I said that you can keep the tree?"

"I don't want it."

Joss stared at him in surprise. "What do you mean you don't want it?"

"I don't want it unless I get something else in return."

"Which is...?" Joss struggled to make sense of Taylor's change of heart.

"I'll let you know when the time is right. Maybe."

Joss gave a short laugh. "You know, son, you're going to make an excellent prosecutor."

"Detective," Taylor corrected and finished off his treat. He wiped his hands on his jeans. "Ooops! Sorry, Mom."

"Go wash your hands, and then we'll finish shopping."

"And you'll call him." Taylor held Joss' gaze.

"I'll call him," Joss conceded.
********

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Taylor asked as he lined the shot from the free-throw line.

"Nothing. Why?" John asked.

"Wanna go to church for the Christmas Eve show?" Taylor threw the ball and stomped his foot as the ball hit the rim and bounced off.

"What time?"

"Seven. Maybe you should ask Mom to go with you," Taylor suggested in a casual way.

"I don't know." John had come back to town early in the morning, but when he had gone over to see Joss, she was gone. Discouraged, he had waited for the time when he was going to take Taylor to practice shots. "Does she want to talk to me?"

"Yeah. She told me so herself. I think she wants you to take her," Taylor hinted and tossed the ball again. This time it went in. "Do you love her?"

John tensed at the question. "Who?"

"The woman who broke your heart."

Frozen by the statement, John could only stare at Taylor. "What?"

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Why do adults think that kids can't hear them when they're only one room away? You guys should consider keeping your voices down if you want to keep a secret." He threw the ball at John. "So, do you?"

"I thought I did, but..." John trailed off. It felt beyond surreal to talk to a child about his personal problems. "If you know about her, what's her name?" he challenged. He threw the ball back at Taylor.

"Jessica. I overheard you and Mom that night she threw a fit over the tree," Taylor revealed. "So, you don't love her. Do you love my mom?"

"Taylor, I'm not sure where this conversation is heading."

"Yeah, that's adults for ya," Taylor muttered under his breath and dribbled the ball.

"What did you say?"

"Do you love her?"

"It's complicated."

"No, algebra's complicated," Taylor contradicted. "Love is easy. You love her, she loves you. Happy ever after."

"How old are you?"

"Ten."

"You're going to make a great prosecutor someday," John predicted.

"That's what Mom said. I want to be a detective."

"You definitely have that 'something', that's for sure." John motioned for Taylor to toss him the ball.

"The show is at seven. Then you can come by and open gifts."

"Taylor, it's..." John tried to find a logical and rational excuse to get out of the invite.

"You've never had a good Christmas, have you?"

John considered lying before replying, "No."

"I didn't think so. Mom hasn't had a good one in a long time, either. Just come over and share Christmas Eve. It can't hurt."

John debated with himself. The offer of a nice Christmas was almost too tempting to pass up.

"What's in it for you?" John asked carefully.

"I don't know yet," Taylor admitted. "But I'm hoping he doesn't disappoint. At least he promised he wouldn't."

"You know, you're a tough kid to say 'no' to," John stated. "What if I say yes, and I decide to take you up on your offer?" he threw back.

"Then call Mom. Or you can ask her when you drop me off," Taylor planted the seeds of suggestion.

John looked at his watch. "Okay. It's getting late. Let's go eat. Maybe get something for your mom."

Taylor took one last shot. The ball hit the rim, the backboard, then the rim again before falling thru the hoop. He jumped up and down in victory. "Yay!"

"That was great! Give me five!" John raised his hand high enough for Taylor to reach.

"Wait 'til I tell Mom," Taylor chortled. He ran over to grab the ball, then trotted back to where John stood. "Guess this means you're paying," he stated.

John rumpled Taylor's hair. "You are definitely on your way to becoming a police officer, son," John said with a short laugh. "Get the bag. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir." Taylor lifted the backpack strap onto his shoulder. Side by side they walked to the car, but Taylor felt as though he was floating on air.

He called me 'son'.