The Fright Before Christmas
Written by Stephanie
December 23, 2007
Disclaimer: As always, this is just for fun! I do not own the characters of Jessica
Fletcher, Seth Hazlitt, Mort and Adelle Metzger,
Ahmed, Clyde, George Sutherland, or Tipper
A
special thank you to Anne, Sarah, and Allison for comments and suggestions.
After answering a few final questions from students,
Jessica collected her lecture materials and made her way down the stairs to the
Social Science Department’s main office.
“Good afternoon, Jessica, how was your weekend?”
“Relaxing,” she answered with a sigh. “And yours?
Were you able to get tickets to The
Lion King for your granddaughter’s birthday?”
“Oh, yes,” the secretary exclaimed. “She’ll be thrilled.”
“I’m glad,” Jessica replied as she collected her mail.
Linda opened her top drawer and withdrew a small
rectangular box covered in Christmas wrap.
“Speaking of gifts, this was left on my desk for you while I was at
lunch,” she said as she held the present out to Jessica.
Jessica thanked her and read the gift tag, which simply
had her name and office number written on it.
“Aren’t you going to open it,” Linda asked excitedly. There was a reason that she was in charge of
organizing the annual campus-wide holiday party.
“Of course,” Jessica said as she set down her things and began
to unwrap the small, delicately wrapped box.
“Amedei
truffles! Wow, I wish I had your
Secret Santa. Mine gave me this gigantic
candy cane.” The red and green striped
confection that she held up for Jessica’s inspection looked to be at least two
inches in diameter and a good two feet long.
“I didn’t sign up for a Secret Santa because I won’t be
here the remainder of the week,” Jessica reminded her as she considered who the
sender might have been.
Linda shook her head knowingly. “In that case, it probably came from a
student who is hoping for an A in your class.”
But there’s no name
on the card, Jessica thought, at the same time feeling uncomfortable at the
possibility of a student thinking that bribery was an acceptable method by
which to improve his or her grade.
Jessica’s
first impulse was to open the box and leave it for the other faculty and staff to
enjoy until she remembered The Venomous
Valentine. It wasn’t Valentine’s Day
but this was a box of chocolates wrapped in bright red paper, a coincidence for
sure but a little eerie just the same.
“Well, if anyone can figure out who sent it, it’s you,”
Linda said as Jessica collected her things.
“I’ll do my best,” Jessica assured her with an uneasy
smile.
Jessica straightened her desk and checked to make sure
that her final exams had come back from the print shop before closing and
locking the small office that she shared with three other adjunct faculty
members who taught courses for the Sociology Department’s criminology and
police science degree programs.
As
Jessica descended the broad concrete steps of Rutland Hall she looked out on
the large quad that had been dusted with snow during the night. The quad was surrounded by the university’s
five original buildings, all built in the neo-gothic style. Four massive arches marked the main avenues
leading to the north campus, and along with the original buildings, these gates
had recently been placed on the State and National Register of Historic
Places.
Franklin
Hall, the university’s original science building was located directly across
the quadrangle from Rutland Hall and made for a nice walk.
“Mrs.
Fletcher, come in,” Stanley Barry said when he saw her outside his small corner
office. Barry was a tenured professor
who had occupied the same office for the past thirty years. Even after massive remodeling that had
resulted in the construction of new faculty offices and state-of-the-art
science laboratories on the third and fourth floors; he had opted to remain
where he was – comfortably embedded on the main level with a fantastic view of
the original campus.
He
waved Jessica in and motioned for her to take a seat while he replaced the
latest edition of Forensic Science
International on the shelf behind his desk.
“A cup of Earl Grey?” he asked as he swiveled his chair
around to face her.
“I’m afraid I can’t today,” Jessica declined politely.
“So this isn’t a social call,” he surmised.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Go ahead,” he encouraged her as he settled in to listen.
“Well,” Jessica began tentatively as she retrieved the
box of truffles from her briefcase. The
bright red wrapping paper and curled ribbon were still loosely wrapped around
the cream colored box.
After hearing the story of the mystery gift, Barry
considered her request. “Has someone threatened
you?”
“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that.”
Barry raised his eyebrows in question. He had never known Jessica to over-react and
couldn’t help but be a bit concerned.
“Just call it natural curiosity,” Jessica explained, “or
woman’s intuition.”
The professor laughed at Jessica’s response and then a
small smile crept across his lips. “I do enjoy interesting little projects
like this,” he began as he took the package from her.
“I know you do,” Jessica replied with a knowing smile. There were few people whom Jessica had ever met
that possessed a level of curiosity that equaled her own, and Stanley Barry,
Ph.D. was one of them.
“I can probably have the results back by Thursday,” he
offered.
“Thank you, Professor Barry, but Monday will be soon
enough,” Jessica said as she gathered her briefcase and began to stand. “I’ll be off campus until then.”
“I do ask one thing, though,” he said, halting her
departure.
Jessica looked at him expectedly.
“You’ll drop the ‘Professor’ and the ‘Doctor’ and start
calling me
Jessica laughed.
“Of course, if you’ll call me Jessica.”
One week later
Tipper and Seth collected their packages while Jessica
squeezed herself and two suitcases through her bedroom door and into the living
room of her
This
was Tipper’s first time Christmas shopping in
“And
to have a steak at your favorite restaurant,” Tipper reminded him.
Without
responding to the taunt, Seth relieved Jessica of her bags and carried them to
the front door while she answered the ringing telephone.
“Oh,
“Who
was that?” Seth wanted to know.
“Stanley
Barry from the university,” Jessica explained as she checked her purse to make
sure that she hadn’t forgotten anything.
“That
fella’ you have tea with?” Seth asked, sounding mildly
jealous.
“Yes,
Seth,” Jessica said, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “He ran a few tests for me.”
“What
kind of tests? You haven’t said anything to me about needing tests.”
“Forensic
tests,” Jessica explained. “
“I
thought you weren’t planning to start your next book until Spring Break,” Seth reminded
her.
“I’m
not,” she assured him with a hint of irritation before letting her concerns
about the mysterious truffles slip out.
“Well,
out with it, woman. What did he find?”
“Nothing,
Seth. They were fine, just my overactive
imagination running wild.”
Before
Seth could complain about having been left out of the loop, Tipper spoke
up. “Speaking of gifts,” she said as she
rummaged around inside one of her many bags.
“Ahmed asked me to give this to you when I came back from getting my
chai latte this morning. He said that
someone left it downstairs for you late yesterday.”
The
package was small and lightweight, and wrapped in green paper with a gold
ribbon. This time the gift card read, To: Jessica, From: Santa Claus in standard
block letters.
“Well,
aren’t you going to open it,” Tipper asked excitedly.
“I
suppose,” Jessica responded as she started to peel away the paper. Inside was a box of assorted Sainsbury’s
teas.
“Sainsbury’s
tea,” Seth read off the lid of the box.
“I’ve never heard of it.”
Jessica
set the box on the table and sat down in a chair. “It’s British. I don’t think you can buy it here,” she said
quietly as she turned the box over in her hand.
“George and I discovered it in a little tea shop in Wester
Ross. He tries to bring me a box
whenever he visits.”
“Well,
that solves it then,” Seth said confidently.
“It’s from Sutherland. The
chocolates probably were, too.”
Jessica
shook her head. “I don’t think so. George says ‘Father Christmas,’ not ‘Santa
Claus.’
“Are
you sure, Jessica?” Tipper asked uneasily.
“I’m
sure. Besides, he’s working a serial
murder case in
“Have
you ever murdered anyone in one of your books with a cup of tea?” Seth asked as
he tried to recall the many murders that Jessica had plotted over the years.
Jessica
shook her head in response. ‘Yes,’ she
had.
Four days later…
After
three days of near solitude, Jessica opened her front door to find Seth and
Finally,
“It’s
good to see you, too,” Jessica offered with a sincere smile.
“You
have a couple of packages today,” he said cheerily as he handed her two boxes,
each wrapped in brown shipping paper. “One from
“Thank
you,” Jessica said with another warm smile.
She
handed Seth the items so that she could retrieve a small cookie tin from the
hall table. “You be
sure to share some of that with Robin now,” Jessica told him as she handed him
the container of chocolate fudge.
“Oh,
I will,” he promised before setting off for the next house.
Seth
returned Jessica’s packages to her and then stomped his boots before stepping
inside. “Do you ever wonder if he
watches everyone’s mail as closely as he does yours,” Seth grumbled. The snow had obviously not instilled any
Christmas spirit in him on this glorious winter day.
“Oh,
Seth,” Jessica scolded. “He was just
making conversation. Now, are you going
to join me for a cup of coffee and a piece of pie or are you going to stand
there grumbling like Ebenezer Scrooge? It’s apple and
it’s fresh out of the oven,” she offered as if the initial invitation had not
been enticing enough.
Jessica
poured two cups of coffee and served up two pieces of warm apple pie, one a la
mode for Seth. Sitting opposite him, she
began to remove the brown paper from the larger of the two packages.
“Is
that the one from Sutherland,” Seth asked.
“How
do you know it’s from George,” Jessica countered.
“Clyde
said it came from
“George
usually mails his packages from
The
box was wrapped elegantly in red and gold paper and a small card had been taped
to the top. Jessica opened the card,
which read, “Something to keep you warm until I can tend to that personally.” Jessica chuckled to herself and blushed
slightly.
“Well,
what did it say?”
“It’s
personal,” Jessica said, setting the card out of Seth’s reach. She slowly removed the wrapping paper and
folded it neatly before removing the top of the box.
Jessica gasped internally when she saw the contents of
the package. She lifted the tartan shawl
out of the box and wrapped it around her shoulders. “How does it look,” she asked happily.
“Very nice,” Seth admitted. “But that doesn’t look anything like the MacGill tartan.”
“It’s the Sutherland tartan,” Jessica informed him before
becoming more serious. “Seth, I thought
you liked George.”
“I do.”
“Then what’s the matter with you?”
Seth shook his head.
“It’s these strange packages that you’ve been getting. I assumed that you’d gotten another one.”
“Oh, Seth,” Jessica said, patting him on the arm. “I’m sure there’s a sensible, harmless
explanation, and I’ll figure out what it is after I go back to
Seth nodded. Of
course, she was right. There had to be a
logical explanation.
Jessica folded the shawl and returned it to its box.
“Have you seen Tipper this week,” Jessica asked, as she
began to open the second package.
“No, why?” Seth answered between
bites of pie.
“I saw her at the market yesterday and she looks like
she’s been working way too hard.”
“That’s because Melinda, her part-time vet, is on bed
rest at home as of Monday,” Seth explained.
“And if she doesn’t behave herself, I’m going to have to admit her to
the hospital.”
“Oh, that’s…”
Jessica’s words trailed off.
“Jess, what is it,” Seth asked, suddenly concerned by the
contents of the open box in front of her.
“Jess?” he asked again as he leaned forward, over the
table for a better look.
“A
Seth sat back down.
“Who’s it from?”
“A friend from
“Who?” Seth persisted.
“Kris Kringle,” Jessica said as
she took a seat. “At least that’s what
the card said.”
Seth set down his fork and tried to reign in his now mounting
temper. “I’m calling the Sheriff,” he
said as he stood and picked up the telephone.
“Seth, please don’t,” Jessica argued. “There’s nothing malicious or threatening
about it. It’s just a pen.”
“And I bet you’ve used that same pen as a murder weapon
in one of your books?”
“Yes, I did but that doesn’t mean…”
“The Sheriff,” Seth said into the receiver without
preamble. “Sheriff? We need you at Jessica’s house right away.”
“Really, Mort, I wish that Seth had not called you,”
Jessica commented with a slight bit of irritation as she placed a cup of hot
coffee and a piece of pie on the table in front of him.
“Well, from the sounds of it, I tend to agree with you,
Mrs. F. It’s probably nothing. But if you do decide that it’s necessary, I
can always look into it for you.”
“If she decides that it’s necessary,” Seth
sputtered. “Some lunatic is stalking her
and you’re not going to do anything about it!”
“Now, Seth,” Jessica said in a calming voice. “If it isn’t just some strange coincidence, then
it’s probably Martin and Marshall getting back at me for arranging a surprise
party for their birthday last summer.”
“Hmff,” Seth replied in
response to Jessica’s latest explanation.
Jessica took a seat and tried to reason with him. “Or it could even be George, although he’s
not much of a practical joker. But I did
help his sisters organize that mass mailing of birthday cards for him on his 65th.”
Seth smiled momentarily.
Even he had thought it humorous when George had received 65 birthday
cards from people whom he had never met and who lived in cities that he had
never visited. It would have been enough
to make the Scotland Yard Inspector question his own mental health
“What about this
“Stanley Barry is a colleague,” Jessica explained
patiently. “We share a cup of tea on
occasion and he keeps me up to date on the latest forensic techniques. He’s one of my best resources and a good
friend.”
“Well, then, what about that student? What’s his name…um…Phillips, Luke
Phillips. He’s a likely suspect.”
“Who is Luke Phillips?” Mort asked with mild interest.
“A former student,” Jessica began to explain. “He signed up for my course last year - fall
semester - not because he wanted to learn about criminology but because he was
a fan of my books.”
Jessica
paused with a sigh before continuing. “He
made a little scene in the cafeteria when I explained to him that it might be
best if he dropped the class so that he wasn’t taking away an opportunity for
another student who was truly interested in the subject.
“A little scene?” Seth repeated
in disbelief. “He thought you owed him
some sort of special gratitude.”
“Is that true?” Mort asked.
“I’m afraid it is, Sheriff. But I don’t think that Luke Phillips is some
sort of demented fan. I think he was
just a little misguided.”
Mort pushed away from the table and stood. “Well, Mrs. F., you let me know if you want
me to run a check on either this Barry fellow or this Luke Phillips and I’ll
get on it first thing. But right now, I
need to get back to the station. Andy
has a dentist’s appointment and I need to be there if any calls come in.”
“I will Sheriff, but I doubt if it will be necessary,”
Jessica assured him as she saw him to the door and then closed it behind him.
Later that evening
Jessica sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of
herbal tea and a pile of unwritten Christmas cards. Just as she began to put pen to paper the
telephone rang.
When she picked up the receiver and greeted the caller,
she herself was greeted by the deep Scottish brogue that she knew and loved so
well. “Hello, Love.”
“Hello, George,” Jessica answered. “How are you?
Are you making any progress on your case?”
“Aye. As a matter of fact, we just wrapped up a six
hour interrogation. We’ve got a
confession but he’s holding out – wanting to negotiate in exchange for telling
us the location of the rest of the victims.”
As
George told her the details of the arrest, Jessica had little to say.
Who
could possibly be behind the mysterious gifts that she had been receiving? Could it really be a stalker?
Everyone
liked chocolate, so that would have been an easy selection. The tea was another story. But anyone who had been in her office or her
apartment would know which brand she preferred.
It wasn’t as though her office at the university was private. Any member of the faculty or staff, or even a
student may have been in the office meeting with one of the other adjunct
faculty members while she wasn’t even in the building. And, of course,
The
“Jess,
is everything alright?”
“Oh,
yes, George. I’m fine.”
“Are
you sure? You seem a little
distracted. There isn’t something going
on that I should know about, is there?”
“No, George, of course not. I’m just a
little tired after hauling all of my Christmas decorations down from the
attic.”
“You’re
certain?”
“Yes,
George. I am.”
“In
that case, I believe I’ll ring off and get a couple of hours sleep before I
have to head back into interrogation.”
“Oh, George?”
“Aye?”
“Thank
you for the shawl. It’s lovely.”
“Not as lovely as you, lassie.”
Jessica
smiled to herself. “I love you,
George. Guid nicht.”
“I
love you as well, Jessie. Guid nicht.”
December 23rd
Mort leaned back in his chair and propped his boots
on his desk in anticipation of a quiet afternoon. The first foot of snow had stopped falling by
four that morning, giving the street crews and the residents of Cabot Cove just
enough time to dig out before starting their day. It had taken the better part of the morning
to handle a few fender benders and stranded motorists but the rest of the day
looked like smooth sailing.
Deputy Broom’s voice broke the relative silence that had
fallen over the small office. “Sheriff,
Ms. Fletcher on the line for you.”
Mort sat up and reached for the phone. “Hi, Mrs. F, what can I do for you?” he
asked.
“Mort, do you think you could stop by the house sometime
today. I have something I’d like you to
take a look at.”
“Sure thing, I’ll be right over.”
“There’s no rush,” Jessica explained. “Just stop by whenever it’s convenient.”
“What do you think?” Jessica asked after Mort had arrived
and had a chance to take a look at the note that had arrived with the latest
mystery package.
“It looks like it was written on an old manual
typewriter,” he said as he used a pair of tweezers to hold up the small note by
its edge.
“Yes,” Jessica agreed.
“An Underwood Universal Portable if I’m not mistaken,” Jessica said as
she eyed the note once again.
Mort looked at her quizzically. “How do you know that?”
“I wrote my first few novels on one,” she explained. “I’d probably still be using it today if it
hadn’t broken.”
Mort nodded his understanding. “What was in the package,” he asked as he
turned his attention to a rectangular box that measured roughly eight by twelve
inches.
“A puzzle,” Jessica said as she lifted the box for Mort
to see the cover - a replica of the dust jacket for her novel, The Messengers of Midnight.
“That explains the note,” Mort said, thinking of the
message that had read ‘Puzzling, isn’t
it?’
“Maybe more than meets the eye, Sheriff. You see, this is the book that I was writing
when my manual typewriter broke and I finally gave in and joined the computer
age.”
“That has to be more than a coincidence,” he
decided. “And you said that the package
had a Cabot Cove postmark?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll tell you what, Mrs. F, why don’t I stop by the post
office and see if anyone remembers the person who mailed this,” he said as he
picked up the box.
Next,
he picked up the note and dropped it into a plastic evidence bag. “We’ll dust everything for prints and see if
we can’t track down the paper and the typewriter. If you think of anything else you’ll let me
know?”
Jessica
agreed, even though she suspected that he wouldn’t find anything.
“And
Mrs. F., just so you know, I did run a check on Luke Phillips and Stanley
Barry. Barry’s been in
Christmas Eve
Jessica checked the mince pie and then began preparing a
tray of appetizers – Swiss cheese on rye-bread and assorted fresh vegetables –
to serve along side the oyster stew. She
hadn’t given any thought to the unsolved mystery of the cunning Secret Santa
since the previous day.
Seth
would be arriving momentarily. Mort and Adelle would be next; and Tipper, who had been kind enough
to volunteer to pick George up from the
“I’m afraid the post master wasn’t of much help,” Mort
told Jessica after being relieved of his coat and hat by Seth.
“Mort, really,” Adelle
admonished him gently. “It’s Christmas
Eve.”
“Wasn’t much help with what?” Seth asked when he
returned.
“Jessica received a strange package in the mail
yesterday,” Adelle informed him. “Some
kind of puzzle with a threatening note.”
Before Seth could respond Jessica interrupted, “I’m
afraid you’ve been misinformed, Adelle. The note was not the least bit threatening,
simply intriguing and for lack of a better word, puzzling.”
“Seth shook his head and addressed Mort. “Well, I for one wonder if it’s safe for
Jessica to attend the service tonight.”
Again, Jessica cut in.
“Of course it is. I’ll have you
with me, as well as two very capable law men and a former Marine. I couldn’t possibly be any safer. Besides, there is no doubt in my mind that
this is all just an elaborate practical joke.
I just haven’t figured out who’s behind it yet.”
“I hope you’re right,” Seth grumbled as he finally sat
down.
Jessica excused herself for a moment to light the candles
on the dining room table. When she
returned to the kitchen there was a knock on the back door.
“Tipper,” Jessica said, greeting her merrily. “Come in.
Have a glass of egg nog or some cider.”
Having expected George as well, Jessica poked her head
outside. “Where’s George?”
Tipper suppressed a slight grin. “Oh, I think he slipped in through the front
door. He had a couple of presents that
he wanted to hide under the tree without you seeing them.”
“Some accomplice you are, Doctor Henderson,” George
commented as he entered the kitchen.
Immediately, their eyes met. “Merry Christmas, Jess,” George said as he
crossed the room.
For a moment, Jessica didn’t see or hear anyone but
George. “You made it,” she said happily
after he released her. “Now everything’s
perfect,” she added in a whisper meant only for him.
The meal had been perfect as well. With everyone now collected in the living
room, George wished all a Merry Christmas and then made an unusual
request. “If you’d all indulge me, I’d
like for Jessica to open one of her Christmas presents before we leave for the
service.”
“Of course,” Adelle replied for
everyone before wrapping her arm around her husband in the hope that this would
turn out to be a major announcement.
George scanned the other faces in the room before
proceeding. “Very well, then,” he said
before producing two small boxes of identical proportions, each small enough to
fit in his palm. “Pick one,” he said to
Jessica.
“George, what are you up to?”
“Jessica, Love, just pick one.”
Jessica feigned an exasperated sigh before choosing. “The green one.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, hoping that she would pick up
on the hint.
“Am I?”
George shook his head ‘no.’
“The red one?”
George smiled. The
green one was meant to be given later, when it was just the two of them, but
what was Christmas without a bit of anticipation?
He
set it aside and gave her the small red box with a shiny gold bow on top.
Jessica removed the lid, looked inside, and gasped.
“Why, George Sutherland, you…”
“Now, Love, don’t say something you might regret later,”
George cautioned her.
“You know,” Tipper said, beginning to back slowly out of
the room. “I think I left my headlights
on.”
George’s words from earlier in the evening echoed in
Jessica’s mind. Some accomplice you are, Doctor Henderson.
“Hold it right there, Angela Elizabeth Henderson.” Jessica wielded Tipper’s given name better
than Tipper’s own mother did and had the vet stopping dead in her tracks.
“Something
tells me you’ve been in on this from the very beginning,” Jessica accused.
“What’s she talking about Mort?” Adelle
asked her husband.
“I’ll explain later,” Mort answered in a near whisper as
he shifted uncomfortably.
“Oh, Mort, you too!” Jessica
exclaimed in utter surprise.
The Sheriff shrugged.
“From the very beginning,” he admitted, “just so things wouldn’t get out
of hand.”
Jessica laughed as her anger dissipated. “I can’t believe it. I hadn’t a clue,” she said, tossing her hands
up in the air.
“What’s in the box and what unscrupulous plot has my
husband been involved in?” Adelle asked, still in the
dark.
Jessica shook her head in disbelief and removed a small
metallic button with a silver “L” imprinted on the smooth,
top surface. “It’s a typewriter key from
an old Underwood manual typewriter.”
George nodded at Tipper, who retrieved another box from
under the tree. This one was large and
very heavy. “Open it,” George encouraged
her after carrying it to the dining room table.
Jessica untied the large bow. “I can’t even imagine what this might be,”
she said as she began to remove the top of the box. “And I’m starting to wonder if I even want to
know.”
“My typewriter!”
George laughed. “Aye, your typewriter.”
Jessica reached down tentatively and pressed the
“L.”
“You
fixed my typewriter! Oh, George, I take back everything I said…well, everything
I was going to say. I love you,” she
added before wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss.
“That’s more like it,” George replied with a satisfied grin.
“Oh, George,”
Jessica admonished him playfully before returning her attention to her gift. “But how in the world did you manage it?” she
wondered as she sat down in front of it and placed her fingers on the keys. A fresh sheet of paper was already in place,
ready to record Jessica’s next novel.
“With a great deal of help,” he confessed.
“Let me piece this together,” Jessica said
thoughtfully. “Tipper, you must have
been the one who delivered the tea to my apartment in
Tipper nodded.
“And did you mail the pen from
“Yes. That was
George’s idea.”
“And you mailed the puzzle from here in Cabot Cove?”
Tipper nodded again.
“What about the chocolates?” she asked, looking up at
George.
“What chocolates?”
“You mean you didn’t send me a box of Amedei
truffles to my office at the university.”
George couldn’t suppress his grin. “You’ve often told me that your secretary is
indispensable.”
Jessica shook her head in disbelief again. “And Mort pacified me by following up on imaginary
leads,” Jessica surmised.
“Aye.”
“And Seth?”
“He retrieved the typewriter from your attic and shipped
it to me in
Seth cleared his throat.
“And in his defense,” George continued, “he didn’t know
about the rest until a few minutes ago.”
Jessica was still flabbergasted. “So, this whole scheme was just an elaborate
plan to repair my typewriter?”
“No, the typewriter is your Christmas present, well one
of them anyway.” There was still a small
jeweler’s box under the tree, just in case George needed further
forgiveness.
“The
rest was sweet revenge,” he said as he leaned over her shoulder and typed three
simple words – I love you.
“I never knew you were so devious,” Jessica said, looking
up at him lovingly.
“Join forces with my sisters and you’re fair game,” he
warned playfully.
“Ah,” Jessica said knowingly. “I think you can be certain that I’ll never
forget that.”
Later
“You still have one more gift to open,” George reminded
Jessica after they had returned home.
She stopped short and faced him, her blue eyes meeting
his green ones. “I think I’ve had quite
enough presents from you for one Christmas,” she said firmly, yet with a glint
of mischief in her eyes.
George smiled internally.
It was times like this that he was thankful for the fact that Jessica
had the most expressive eyes he’d ever seen.
“I thought you’d forgiven me,” he asked as he retrieved the gift from
beneath the tree.
Jessica smiled.
“Oh, who am I kidding? I couldn’t
possibly stay angry with you, considering you got my trusty typewriter back in
working condition.”
“I was hoping that would be the case,” he said before
motioning for her to sit down. After
sitting down next to her on the couch he took her hand, turned it palm up, and
set a small box in the center. “Jessica,
Love, I know you’ve a special connection with
There
was not a doubt in Jessica’s mind as to the sincerity with which George spoke
those words.
Without
further preamble he nodded, encouraging her to open the gift.
Jessica
lifted the lid and smiled. Using two
delicate fingertips she removed a red loop of satin from which hung an
ornamented antique key. She turned the
key over in her palm and then looked up at George, who had been watching her
closely.
“The
key to your heart?” she guessed.
“Oh,
no, Love. I gave that to ye a long time ago. That
thar’s the key to my castle.”