Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

Chapter 5

Olivia's motions slowed down as she skimmed through a letter in Karen's loopy,distinctly feminine handwriting. "Mason, I think I know what Karen wants for Christmas."

Mason's expression picked up noticeably. "That's awesome, we can stop worrying so much. What is it?"

Olivia sighed and set the letter down. "Dad."

Mason shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his hands. "But, Liv, I don't think Dad is coming home in time for Christmas."

"I know that," Olivia snapped. "But I think that's what she and Rosario were talking about. That's probably what Grace was going to tell us before Will stopped her." Olivia put her head in her hands. "We're never going to get Karen a good present."

Mason placed his hand on Olivia's shoulder. "We will." Mason was surprised to feel that Olivia's shoulders were shaking. "Liv?"

Olivia's head shot up and Mason could see tears sliding down her cheeks. "This isn't fair, Mason! I miss Daddy! And you know Karen does, too, that's why she's so upset all the time!"

"I miss him, too," Mason said quietly.

"But I'm so mad at him! Why'd he have to do all that stuff with his money? He never should have done it. Then he wouldn't have gotten in trouble!" Olivia cried, fruitlessly wiping at the tears coursing down her face.

"I don't know why he did it," Mason admitted. "I don't even really get what he did. But I don't think he needs us to be mad at him now."

Olivia nodded, sniffling. "I just wish he could be home right now. I wish we could all be together on Christmas."

"I do, too," Mason agreed.

Elsewhere in the manse, Rosario turned off the intercom and shook her head sadly.

Karen walked slowly down the salt-covered sidewalks of Manhattan, alone. She'd lied to everyone in the house, saying Grace needed her help at the office. Karen had really just wanted to get out of the manse and think things over. Of course, along the way, Karen had wandered down Fifth Avenue and done a bit of Christmas shopping.

She'd purchased Jack a set of cashmere pajamas, a promise of a lengthy spa weekend, and leather pants; Grace had told her that she'd heard him praying to Santa Claus and asking for a pair of leather pants. Grace had been a bit more difficult; Karen had a feeling that a dozen shares of GE weren't going to cut it this year. She'd tried to get into Grace's mindset to pick out an outfit or two, but all of the crazy patterns and synthetic fabrics had given her a monstrous headache. Karen had settled for a large gift certificate to Barney's, a book on interior design, and a large gift basket from Godiva. If Grace had been difficult, Will was impossible. His fashion sense was admittedly more palatable for Karen, but she felt a sweater was too impersonal. Karen eventually decided on some modern decorations for his still sparse-looking office. She didn't feel it was enough, but she had no idea what else to do.

Then came the even tougher people: Mason and Stan. She knew she'd eventually think of something for Mason, but Stan? What was she to do? She didn't want to give him anything too expensive to keep in the prison, but she didn't want her husband to think she'd forgotten him.

Karen was determined to make this Christmas a good one because she could already tell it was going to be one of the worst. She knew the kids needed to see their father and she also knew that Stan needed to see his children. Karen didn't even visit him as much as she should; she hated seeing him there.

It enraged her to think that Stan had gotten caught the first time he'd done something illegal when she could easily name twenty people who participated in much worse financial activities on a day-to-day basis. Karen knew that it was warped logic that caused her to feel that way, but she didn't care. Her husband was in jail when many more deserving people were still freely engaging in less-than-pure pastimes. Her husband couldn't be with his wife and children on Christmas and yet a certain senator Karen had lunched with the other day had done so much insider trading it was as if he'd invented it himself.

Karen simply shook her head and deposited her many bags in the limo, promising Driver that she'd return shortly. Karen continued on her trek down Fifth Avenue, racking her brain for an inkling as to what Mason might want for Christmas.

Karen arrived back at the manse hours later. She'd purchased more gifts for other nameless, faceless people she knew she must send gifts to. She walked up the stairs and paused once more on the landing for the second floor. Mason's bedroom door was open just a crack and Karen inched closer. To her surprise, she saw him kneeling at the side of his bed, his chubby little hands clasped together over his comforter.

"God, I know I don't have the right to ask for much," Mason began. "My family has been blessed with many things. But lately, things have been a little tough and I need Your help. My daddy's in prison and they don't know when he's going to get out. What he did was wrong, I know, but it isn't like he killed someone or hurt anybody. So if there's any way You could get him back here for Christmas, I would really appreciate it." Mason cleared his throat and paused, carefully choosing his next words, completely unaware that he was being watched by his increasingly emotional stepmother.

"But if You can't get my daddy back here, could You maybe help Karen and Olivia deal with this? I saw Olivia cry today and it makes me sad when she does that. I don't think I've ever seen Karen cry but I can tell I wouldn't like it, either.

"I promise I won't ask for anything again if You bring my daddy back home. Or help Olivia and Karen be happy again. Olivia is my sister and Karen is practically my mommy and I don't like it when they're upset. Amen," Mason finished. He then climbed into bed and turned off his light.

Karen stepped away from his bedroom door, touched by how selfless and intelligent her stepson was.

"Gosh, couldn't you just cry when Mason and Olivia were here yesterday?" Grace asked Will as they settled into the small couch in front of their television set.

Will nodded. "I can't get over how much they really care about Karen. She seemed more like Mommie Dearest than…mommy dearest."

Grace shrugged. "You know you can't really believe what Karen says. She always acted indifferent toward Stan but when she thought he was cheating on her a couple of years ago, she really lost it."

"She was a wreck when they took Stan away to prison, too," Will pointed out.

"I just feel so awful for her," Grace said. "I can't even imagine how horrible this Christmas is going to be without Stan."

Will nodded and smiled slightly.

"What?"

"What what?" Will asked, his poker face intact once more.

"What was that smirk for?" Grace asked suspiciously.

"What smirk? That was a grimace, your breath is horrible. Go pop a Tic-Tac, Miss Garlic," Will replied. Grace blew into her cupped palm and winced when she smelled her own breath.

"Gosh, you're right," Grace said, jumping off of the couch and jogging into the bathroom.

Will breathed a sigh of relief.

Author's Note: So I realize that this was probably the most boring, insignificant chapter ever. I promise that chapter 6 will be, if anything, longer. I'm just so hopped up on Pam's reviews that I can't wait for more. :o)