The 13th Gift Read Online Free PDF Page A

lovely but completely ordinary.
    “Momma, you can put them on our Christmas presents!”
    The fudge cakes congeal in my stomach.
    “We’ll probably just get the bill,” I answer, prodding them both into the house and slamming the door behind us. I try to remember if I had mentioned my evening plans to Joann while I was at the office, wondering if she had known that our house would be empty for a few hours so that she could deposit the gift.
    The excitement over the arrival of a second gift and a sugar high from the cobbler and ice cream keeps them both awake long past bedtime. Nick is tented under a blanket playing a video game in his room, while Megan curls up in bed like a cat and asks me questions about her daddy.
    “I miss him” has become her evening standard, instead of “good night.”
    After talking for a little while, I turn off her light and go downstairs to make up my bed on the couch. It’s not long before I hear the floorboards creaking overhead. It is Megan, tiptoeing downstairs to look at the bows again.
    “Who do you think is leaving the gifts?”
    She opens a bag of the bows and begins to pair them up. She selects two with red and white stripes for her presents, blue for Nick, and green for Ben. I try to hide my tears, but she is a smart kid.
    “Will they leave a gift tomorrow? Nick is so sure.”
    Unable to answer, I shrug my shoulders.
    She curls up beside me on the couch and makes x’s and o’s on my nightgown above my heart.
    “Are they leaving the gifts … because of Dad, because we’re alone this Christmas?”
    I respond with a harsher tone than I intend.
    “Sometimes, adults don’t have all the answers, Meg, and Ican’t answer that one. I do know you’ll be yawning in math class in the morning, if you don’t get to bed.”
    “I
always
yawn in math class,” she responds, not taking offense. “Besides, my science teacher says it’s a kid’s job to ask questions. I’m just doing my job.”
    “And it’s my job to make sure you get plenty of rest. Now scoot.”
    She gives up just after midnight when I threaten to ground her from basketball practice.
    “Don’t forget the red-and-white bows are for my presents,” her parting comment.
    “I won’t forget.”
    I listen for a few more minutes for her sock-padded shuffle coming back down the landing, but silence at last envelops the house.
    The neon glow of the toggle switch on the computer offers the only sign of life in the family room. The reflection of the pulsating beam on the package of bows casts a rainbow of dancing shadows on the wall. I think maybe it’s a sign. I wrap a quilt around me and sit down at the computer. My intent is to try online Christmas shopping, but the endeavor ends just as my shopping trip did. I’m in no mood for jolly, and the pair of dancing elves directing me to toys, bikes, and basketballs is beyond my level of holiday cheer. I hit the Escape key and bring up a blank page.
    “Make a shopping list,” I order myself. The cursor blinks and fades, twenty times, sixty, one hundred, so I flip back to a search engine and type.
    “Are you there, Rick?”
    My fingers hover over the Enter key, and I think how embarrassing it would be if Ben should walk in on me right now. I thump on the key anyway.
    An ad flashes across the monitor: “You can find everything on eBay.” Frustrated, I toss the bags of bows in the trash. The image of Megan’s hopeful smile delivers a flying forehand smash to my gut. I go to bed before I have a chance to change my mind.

C HAPTER T HREE
The Third Day of Christmas
    T HE C HRISTMAS BOWS from our true friends rematerialize the next morning, shifting from the trash can in the laundry room onto Megan’s nightstand.
    When my daughter finishes her cereal, I run my fingers through her hair, working out the tangles, a morning ritual we both enjoy. She closes her eyes and leans back into her seat, cascading her hair over the back of the chair.
    “Sleepy?” I ask.
    “Just