Page 2 of Threads of Kindness
“It’s Christmas. We could treat ourselves to two breakfasts, if we like. Besides, this is just coffee and pastries.”
Maggie peered inside the bakery box. “You got chocolate pistachio croissants for me, didn’t you?”
“I know my best gal’s favorite.”
“These things have an entire day’s worth of calories in them.”
“As I said—it’s Christmas. Who cares? We don’t count calories on Christmas.”
“This is awfully sweet of you, John, especially since you won’t have much time to enjoy it.”
“I wanted to make sure you had something nice while I went into the hospital.” He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I was worried you’d be a little bit …” He paused, searching for the right word. “Blue today. You’re normally up at the crack of dawn on Christmas, getting ready for the Rosemont dinner. I’ve been married to you long enough to know how much you love the hustle and bustle. I was afraid you’d miss it.”
Maggie rested her hand on his chest. “You know me so well. Iwaspretty melancholy when I got out of bed this morning. But coming downstairs to see the beautiful trees lit, and to smell the aroma of coffee coming from the kitchen, where my dreamboat of a husband was waiting for me, well … the blues just vanished.”
“I’m thrilled to hear that, my dear.” John took a quick glance at his watch. “Let’s take this into the living room. I’ve got time for a quick cup of coffee and my favorite cherry Danish before I have to leave for the hospital.”
He picked up the tray, and she followed him into the living room.
They sat together in companionable silence, enjoying their treats.
“I’d better be on my way,” John said. “I promise I’ll be home by six thirty at the latest. What do you plan to do in the meantime?”
“Well,” Maggie cocked an eyebrow, “since calories don’t count on Christmas, I think I’ll have a second cup of coffee with a cheese Danish. I’ll still have plenty of time to get ready before you’re home.”
Bubbles emerged from the shadows and jumped into Maggie’s lap. Maggie stroked the cat until throaty purring became background music in the room.
“Can I offer a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
“Why don’t you take a nice, long bath? I know you love to soak in the tub, and it’s been ages since you’ve had time to do that.”
“My gosh, that’s a genius idea,” Maggie said. “I think I’m going to like these slower Christmas mornings.”
John planted a kiss on the top of her head, scooped up a second Danish to eat on his drive to work, and left Maggie to enjoy the solitude.
CHAPTER 2
Maggie’s cell phone sprang to life with an incoming call. Maggie smiled when she heard Susan’s self-recorded custom ringtone.
“Hey, Mama Llama, it’s me,” the phone chirped.
Maggie realized she couldn’t get out of the tub, dry herself, and reach the phone before Susan’s call went to voicemail. She was enjoying the rare treat of a morning bath and hated it to end.
She reclined against the bathtub pillow, running her hands through the blanket of bubbles, when Susan called again.
“Well, something must be on her mind,” Maggie said to Eve, who was curled into a ball and snoozing on the plush bathroom rug. “It’s time for me to get ready to head to her place anyway.”
Grasping the sides of the tub, Maggie hoisted herself to her feet. She reached for the plush bath sheet draped over the small table next to the tub and wrapped it around herself. Stepping carefully onto the rug so as not to disturb Eve, she dashed into the bedroom and tapped the screen to answer the call.
“Hey, Mom,” Susan said. “Merry Christmas. I didn’t think I was going to get you.”
“Sorry, honey,” Maggie said. “I was soaking in the tub. I was going to let it go to voicemail, but when you called again right away, I knew something was up. So, what is it?”
“I hate to say this, but Julia’s sick. She woke up with a 104-degree fever. Her nose began running when we got home from the children’s Christmas Eve service at church. By the time we put her to bed, she had a low-grade fever. During the night, she woke with coughing fits.”
“Oh no, honey, I’m so sorry to hear that. She must feel miserable.”
