More Christmas Wishes
Mary Margaret Skalany dreaded Christmas, not so much because of the Holiday blues that could set in, but because she would end up spending it at her Mother's. And her Mother was always asking her when she would settle down and marry a good Catholic. Her Mother also never really approved of her profession.
"Why do you always carry that gun. It frightens me," she would say. "Why don't you ask the Captain if you could have a nice safe desk job, maybe as his secretary."
"My Captain's a woman now."
"Don't change the subject dear. Now what were we talking about. I heard that Johnny McBride moved back. You remember him dear . . ." That was always the way their conversations would end. Her mother complaining about how dangerous her job was then telling her about her old classmates from high school, mostly the guys. Every year it was the same thing, until this year. Things were different. She had been shot. It was as if her Mother's words had proven her right.
"See? You could have been killed by that hoodlum. You almost were."
"That hoodlum turned states evidence for us against a crooked cop and his gang," Mary Margaret had argued.
"And what about that . . . that priest. I'm sure he had something to do with it."
"Mother, Caine did not have anything to do with it. You know he saved my life. He gave me some of his chi to save mine."
"His chi had nothing to do with it," her mother argued. "It was the power of prayer."
Mary Margaret couldn't argue . . . didn't want to argue with her Mother. It was useless. She would never listen to reason. Her Catholic upbringing prevented her from seeing anything else that was different than her religious beliefs. And Skalany knew that if her Mother found out that she was continuing to see "that priest" as she put it with disdain, her Mother would never speak to her again.
'I wish my Mother could see Caine as I do,' she thought. 'He's a good man, and he makes me happy, despite the fact that we never seem to get together the way I really would like.'
Skalany thought about the last conversation before Caine had disappeared, but then showed up again with amnesia.
"What does Peter think of it?" Mary Margaret asked Caine then took a sip of her wine.
"Of what?" Caine asked.
"Us." The words came without warning.
"Ah," Caine replied, but just before he could answer her question, Mary Margaret tried to amend her words, tripping over them, and knowing full well if she didn't stop, she would get herself into a lot of trouble. She was surprised though when Caine continued to answer her question, and even more surprised at the answer.
"Human beings become one with their feelings for each other when the time is right," he had answered in that soft halting way that she found so attractive.
It was an answer Mary Margaret had not expected to get. Curious and certainly wanting more than she thought Caine could provide she had to know if there was any hope for their relationship. "Will our time ever be right?"
"When it is, Mary Margaret, we will know."
Mary Margaret's heart soared at Caine's words and she remembered him taking her hands into his. His grasp was warm and gentle, but then his grip tightened as Caine's face suddenly changed from loving warmth, to anguish and fear. She could sense that something was wrong, and tried to ask him, but Caine had denied it. She knew he had lied to her. When they walked home he became subdued, guarded, as if he was expecting trouble. She had not thought about that at the time, remembering only that she tried to engage him in conversation, which soon after ended in near tragedy.
Mary Margaret shook off her revere. She had to give her mother an answer, whether she was coming home for Christmas or staying in town. It wasn't a decision she was willing to make right now.
'I think I'll go to the party then decide afterward. I can always tell her that I had to work. Boy that would go over well. Maybe not, at least I can have some fun for a while.'
***
The party at Peter's, though crowded had been fun. It was something that she really needed, but now her decision to see her Mother at Christmas loomed again. How was she going to get out of this one? To delay the inevitable one more time, Mary Margaret got up to make a cup of tea. She was about to enter the kitchen when out stepped the old man carrying a tray.
"Lo Si," Mary Margaret asked, "What are you doing here?"
As the old man set the tray down on a nearby table, he turned toward her and said, "Your wish has been granted."
"Wish, what do you mean?" At that very moment, Mary Margaret's phone rang, nearly startling her out of a year's growth. "Don't go away, I'll be right back."
"Oh, I just don't believe it," the voice on the other line stated.
"Mother?" Mary Margaret was surprised to hear her voice.
"I just had to call and tell you! And to thank you."
Mary Margaret could tell her Mother was filled with deep excitement, but she didn't understand why. "Thank me, for what?" She turned toward Lo Si holding up a hand to gesture toward him that she would only be another minute, but the old man was gone. This also puzzled her and for a moment she almost missed what her Mother was saying. "What was that?"
"The tickets, they came today. How did you ever manage it. So I am afraid your father and I won't be home for Christmas this year."
"You won't?" Mary Margaret said.
"You know I have always wanted to go to Hawaii, and however you managed it . . ."
"Mother," Mary Margaret was about to tell her the truth that she didn't get the tickets, when she remembered what Lo Si had said. Somehow the Amcient had granted her wish, and she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth to discover its secrets. "When will you be leaving," she asked instead.
"We leave tomorrow and won't be back until after New Years."
"I was hoping you might come here for Christmas," she stated, almost balking at the words that suddenly came out of her mouth. "I really wanted you to be able to get to know Caine, the way I do . . . and . . . well . . ."
"I know dear. And I am really sorry for the words I said to you. You are right. Caine did save your life. I must remember that my little girl isn't a little girl any more. You can make your own decisions about the men that you see."
Mary Margaret was nearly speechless. "Thanks Mom, that means a lot. Well, you have a good trip and I'll see you when you get back and we'll do some shopping."
"Very well dear, and you tell that nice Mr. Caine, Merry Christmas."
"Okay Mom, love you."
After they hung up Mary Margaret nearly jumped for joy. All trace of weariness was gone. She just had to grab her coat and race out the door.
"I hope he's awake," she thought, 'And I hope Peter's not there,' as thoughts of long nights with her handsome Shaolin danced in her head. This was going to be the happiest Christmas she ever had.
Alisa Joaquin Copyright@2006.
This story cannot be reprinted or sold in any other form without strict permission from
the author. It is being distributed here solely for your enjoyment.
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