Presents


"Your present was a little hard to wrap this year," Matthew O'Hara informed his niece as he struggled to maintain his hold on a large red box with several big holes in it.

"Really? What is it?" Sarah asked.

"Woof!"

Sarah's eyes grew wide as her Uncle Matt finally released his grip and the cardboard crumpled as a furry white puppy bounded out of the box. He barked and wagged his tail excitedly, leaping on Sarah and licking her face.

"Matt!" Deanne scolded. "How could you get her a dog?"

"Well, the furry guy needed a home," Matt explained. "And your daughter needed a dog."

"My daughter did not need a dog," Deanne argued.

"You're right," Matt replied dryly. "I actually got him for my sister. His name is Ruggles."

"Ruggles, sit!" Sarah commanded.

The dog obeyed.

"Speak!"

"Woof!"

Matt grinned. "She's already got him trained."

"Or he's got her trained," Deanne muttered as Sarah tossed a bit of leftover meat from Christmas dinner to the dog.

"Ruggles, fetch!"

Sarah threw a piece of rope across the room, and Ruggles raced after it, grabbing it in his teeth and bringing it back to Deanne, slobbering all over her and jumping up to lick her face.

Deanne winced and backed away from the dog, an odd reaction that didn't go unnoticed by her brother.

"Deanne, what happened to your face?" Matt asked.

Deanne's hand flew to her cheek and she turned her head away. "Nothing," she said quickly. She didn't want him to know about her husband's angry, drunken rampage on Christmas Eve.

Ruggles whined and snuffled his big, wet nose against her swollen cheek. Deanne laughed a little and rubbed his head affectionately.

"Mama, he likes you!" Sarah exclaimed.

The puppy's antics brought such a smile to her daughter's face that Deanne found her resolve quickly melting away. She didn't realize that it was simply a mask for the sadness and resentment that had already been planted deep inside Sarah's heart that Christmas Eve.

"Okay," she finally said. "We can keep him. Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

~*~o~*~

"Here's another one," Sarah said to Mac, handing her a large rectangular box.

"No problem," Mac said, spreading another roll of shiny gold wrapping paper out on the kitchen table.

Mac wrapped Christmas presents with military precision, Harm realized as he watched her from across the room. Neatly and methodically, with tightly creased corners. All of the boxes she had already wrapped were stacked high on one end of the table.

When she caught her grandson's eye, Sarah rose from her chair and walked over to him, leaving Mac to finish up the wrapping.

"She's quite good at this," Sarah remarked.

"Yes, she is," Harm agreed. He grinned. "Guess you should have a Marine wrap all your Christmas presents from now on, Grandma."

Sarah shrugged. "Sometimes there are Christmas presents that can't be wrapped." With a secret smile, she avoided her grandson's gaze. "Like the gift you're giving Mac this year."

"And what am I giving her?" Harm asked innocently.

"Your heart."