Manor House
Sleepyside, NY

Margery Trask slid a mug of steaming coffee across the spotless table before settling down next to her friend and colleague with her own mug of Christmas tea.  He nodded his thanks and took a big gulp of the hot, black brew.  Once she’d added the requisite cream and sugar to her own cup, and taken her first sip, she spoke. 

“It’s too quiet around here.”

“You’re not kidding,” Regan answered.  “It’s not like those kids are noisy, but when they’re gone, this place is like a tomb.”  He took another sip and sighed in appreciation as he felt the rush of the caffeine.  Like most things around the Manor House, even the coffee was top quality.   In his tiny apartment he’d never mess with fresh ground beans, but Cook had spoiled the Wheelers and their staff alike.  “Good stuff!” He lifted his mug in a toast -- “To coffee and Christmas.”

Margery smiled and tapped her own tea cup against his mug.  “To Christmas and tea.” 

It was hard to remember that the two of them had only been working together for less than six months.  They had formed a strong friendship from the beginning.  Both had a talent for knowing when to speak and knowing when to keep their mouth shut.  Possession of a liberal dose of common sense helped both of them fit in well with the Wheelers’ staff.  Their 25-year age gap never came into question.  Margery knew Bill was young enough to be her son, while Bill had the good sense never to point out that she was old enough to be his mother.  They both stood in as mother-brother figures to the Wheeler teen-agers when needed, and since the Wheeler parents traveled so much, that was frequently.  However, the prospect of a Christmas without the presence of the teens and their friends was not something they’d expected this early in their employment.

“It’s going to be a long two-week break,” Regan remarked.  He looked around the kitchen.  Grace Wheeler had decorated the entire mansion to the hilt before the kids left for Arizona.  Even the kitchen was festooned with holiday décor, including large potted poinsettias and a tiny tree decorated with kitchen gadgets and cheerful red and white gingham ribbons.  Every decoration from the front entrance to the back steps was tasteful and appropriate.  There was even a large holiday wreath on the outside of the stable.

“What did Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler decide to do?”  Regan asked.  He routinely called Matthew Wheeler “Matt” when the two men were alone, but he never referred to Grace Wheeler as anything other than Mrs. Wheeler.  To say that the serene and gracious woman, who he considered to be his real boss, intimidated him was an understatement.  He’d happily go toe-to-toe with the red-headed Matthew, but Grace was a different story.  She could turn the brash, hot-headed Irish groom into a docile and compliant employee with nothing more than her lovely smile.

“They’ve decided on Christmas in the city,” she replied.  “To be honest, I don’t think either one of them wants to face this big quiet house without the kids around.  New York City at Christmas is special anyway, and they both love all the hustle and bustle that comes with the holiday.  They’re used to spending the holiday in the city.  From what Honey described they usually alternate between London and New York.”

“You couldn’t pay me to give up a Christmas here in Sleepyside for the city,” Regan replied as he drained his cup of coffee.  “Different strokes, I suppose.”  He leaned back and gave Margery a calculating look.  “What about you?  How are you planning to spend the holidays?  Doesn’t Mrs. Wheeler want you in the city to help her out?”

Margery shook her head.  “Not at all.  Anything she needs there, Matthew’s secretary will handle.  She was quite adamant that the staff here take a holiday at full pay.”  She stopped and gave Regan a stern look.  “They want you to have Jed Tomlin take care of the horses and have your own holiday.”

Regan shook his head.  “Nah, that’s not necessary.  That rascal Bobby Belden is still around along with those Lynch twins.  They’ll stop by for more riding lessons, especially after school is out.  It won’t be a problem to keep all the horses exercised.  If necessary, Mr. Maypenny will give me a hand.  Jupe’s the only one he can’t manage.”  He gave her a careful look.  “What about you?  Did you make any plans for the holidays?”

Margery sipped her tea before answering.  “No, actually I’m going to stay here as well.  My sister has other plans this year and …” her voice caught before she cleared her throat, took another sip of tea and spoke again in a bright, forced tone.  “Maybe I can manage to work in a riding lesson or two while those kids are gone.”

“Maybe,” he agreed.   They both knew she wouldn’t, but it was best not to mention it.  Margery did not want Honey and Jim to know that she was deathly afraid of horses.   It had become apparent to Regan at her first lesson.  The sweats, the shakes and tremors, the woman had been as tense as a James Bond movie.  It hadn’t been until the end of the lesson that he purposely cut short that she’d confessed her fear.  The next tutorial had involved grooming and simply being around the horses, but they sensed her fear and it hadn’t helped when even the gentle Lady had snorted and tossed her head, knocking into Margery’s shoulder.  She hadn’t returned to his stable for another lesson.

“Bill,” she said slowly.  “If you could have anything you wanted for Christmas … anything at all, what would it be?”

“Isn’t this where I’m supposed to say world peace?” he joked.  It looked like they were in for some more conversation, so he stood and walked over to the coffee pot to pour another cup.  On the way back, he snagged the tray of Christmas cookies that Cook had left for the staff to munch on.   It wasn’t until he settled back down that she answered him.

“If world peace is what you really truly want, if any thing in the world were possible, then yes.  But if anything were possible, what would you want?”

Bill munched a red and white decorated candy cane sugar cookie as he contemplated his answer.  Finally swallowing he pointed a finger at her.  “I need a minute.  You first … what would you want?”

She reached for her own cookie, selecting a festive decorated Christmas tree, and bit off the star at the top in a tiny nibble.  “I’d want for no one to ever be alone at Christmas,” she finally replied.  “Silence, peace, solitude … they have their place, but at Christmas, you need people.  Friends, family … nothing fancy.  I really wish …” she stopped.  “What would you want?”

Realizing the conversation had taken a serious turn he decided to scrap the flippant comment he’d intended:  “since I already have my two front teeth, I guess I’d like a hippopotamus.”  He took a deep breath before replying.  “I’d like to know what happened to my sister.”

Margery looked up, clearly surprised.  “Your sister?  I didn’t know you have a sister.”

He took a deep breath.  “Kelly, she’s older than me.  We lost touch when she aged out of the orphanage.  She tried to take me with her, but ….”  He shrugged.  “They didn’t know I’d have been better off with her.”

“You’ve never been able to find her?”

“She came back to see me a couple of times, once she had a guy with her.  I’m pretty sure it was her boyfriend, but I didn’t get to talk to them very much.  Kelly really upset the nuns.  That was the last time I saw her.  She tried to get permission to take me with her.  But it didn’t work out.  After that …”  he stopped. 

They both sat and let the silence provide comfort.  Several minutes later Regan continued his story.  “When I finally got out and started looking, it was harder than I thought.  Regan’s not the most popular surname but there were more than I expected.   I finally made it through all of them, but didn’t have any luck.  There wasn’t any way I could afford to hire an investigator.  Every once in a while, I’ll check out some things, but I’m sure she got married.  At least I hope she did.”

“Did she have red hair too?” Margery asked.

Regan shook his head.  “Not like my mess.  Hers is much darker, more like a chestnut, kinda like Strawberry’s mane.”

Margery couldn’t hold back the smile.  Only Regan would compare his sister’s hair to a horse and make it a compliment.  “Maybe she’ll turn up one day.  You could register at one of those sites on the internet where you can try and find lost relatives.”

“Maybe,” he said slowly. 

“I’d be happy to help you,” she offered.  “Matthew wouldn’t mind at all if we used the computer in the den.  He’s offered it many times.  Or we could go to the library.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to think about it,” he replied. 

She nodded in understanding and once again a comfortable silence settled between them.  As the minutes passed, Regan shifted in his chair and gave her a curious look.  “How do you know about those missing relative internet sites?”

Regan was surprised when she fidgeted.  He’d never seen Margery Trask fidget, not even once in the almost six months they’d known each other.  She was positively rattled.

“I’ve registered at them,” she finally admitted. 

He quirked a brow at her then, but said nothing.

She sighed.  “Bill … I can’t … it’s not something –“

He held up a hand.  “Stop, Margery.  You don’t need to explain.  One day you’ll be ready and if that day never comes, that’s fine.  Don’t worry about it.  But if you ever need someone to listen …”

She nodded.  He stood up then and moved to put his mug in the sink.  Rinsing it out and settling it on the sideboard he knew better than to load it in the dishwasher.  Cook would have his head if he touched her precious machine.  He needed to ride one of the horses that afternoon but before he left he had to say one more thing.

“Margery,” he said quietly.  “As long as we’re friends, you won’t ever have to worry about being alone on Christmas.  You know that, right?”

“Thanks, Bill,” she acknowledged with a nod.  “The same goes for you.”

Wheeler Penthouse
New York City

“I hope you end up with dishpan hands and housemaid’s knee.”

“What did you say?” 

“I hope you ended up with some Christmas plans … or should we just plan on attending a house party?” Grace Wheeler repeated slowly.  They had many invitations to parties from their friends and extended family would always welcome them for the holiday.  But she had envisioned this Christmas—their first with Jim as a part of their family—entirely differently. 

“We can do whatever you like,” her husband replied absently, turning the page of his newspaper.  For the moment his coffee was forgotten as he was distracted by an item of business news.   Reluctantly tearing his attention from the story, he tried to figure out what his wife was really trying to say.  “I imagine the kids are having a good time in Arizona by now.  Did Honey call again?”

What I would like is to celebrate Christmas with my daughter and my son.  Grace bit her lip.  It would do no good to rehash that point with Matthew.  He’d bestowed his blessing on the trip without asking her, and the moment the kids left for the airport she’d given him an earful.  He had apologized profusely, and while she imagined there would be an extra Christmas gift in her stocking to make up for his gaffe, she knew the only thing to do at this point was to find something to distract herself this Christmas.

“She did.  Everything is fine.  I told Bill and Margery the staff should just enjoy the holidays until we’re all back in Sleepyside,” she said quietly.  “She assured me that neither of them has plans to visit family or friends, but she would pass it along to the rest of the staff.  I gave them our blessing to have free reign of the house, except your study.”

“Sounds good,” he replied absently, turning the page in the paper as his attention was drawn back to the story of a merger between two of his biggest rivals.

“Perhaps we should take a trip ourselves somewhere warm, maybe Belize or St. Barths.”

Matthew lowered his paper and frowned.  “You’ve always wanted to spend Christmas in either New York or London,” he said slowly.  “Never any place warm.  What gives?”

Grace shrugged.  “Just wishing our kids hadn’t wanted this trip to Arizona so badly.”  She held up a hand as he started in to defend his decision.  “I’m not complaining, Matt.  I promise.  I’m just having a bit of a pity party.  I had Manor House completely decorated, just like an old-fashioned New York Country Christmas.  Now it hardly seems worth it.”

Matthew pulled his ear.  He’d have been kidding himself if he didn’t admit he’d have preferred the kids to be home.  He’d had some crazy ideas about buying Hot Wheels track, running it throughout the halls of the mansion and racing the miniature cars as a family.  But telling Honey and Jim no to this trip…well, it had just seemed wrong. 

“The staff is enjoying the decorations.  Besides, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Belize.   We’ve never been there at Christmas before.”

“We’ve never been to Arizona at Christmas before either,” she replied. 

“So you’re not going to let that go, huh?”  He picked up his coffee and took a sip before returning his attention to his paper.  There was nothing to be gained if Grace wasn’t going to move forward.

“Sorry, Matthew,” she said softly.  “I just …” She stopped and shook her head.  “Either Belize or St. Barth’s would be lovely.  So would Fiji if that’s easier.  Are you going to have your secretary make the arrangements?”

 “Sure.  I’ll take care of it first thing when I get to the office.”  He liked the idea of Belize.  Not to mention, beach attire was something he very much enjoyed seeing on his wife’s body.  Maybe he’d even go back to La Perla and purchase the shimmering gold silk negligee he’d passed on last week.  He’d been all but ready to purchase it when a phone call from the office had distracted him.  He could see Grace wearing it and didn’t think twice about the $1,100 price tag.  Damn that Rainsford for interrupting me in the middle of that.  Making a mental note to take care of the lingerie purchase immediately after he took care of vacation plans, he returned his attention to the analysis of the latest takeover in the Journal.

Grace pushed back from the table and crossed to drop a kiss on the top of his head.  “I’m going out.  I’ll need to take care of some last minute shopping if we’re going to Belize.”

Shopping, he thought with a smile.  That should fix everything!

Juvenile Detention Center
Bronx, New York

Dan's legs shifted yet again as he tried to get comfortable on the hard cot.  The thin mattress provided little padding between his body and the hard metal frame of what the detention center called a bed.  It could be worse; he thought although in his heart of hearts he really felt like he'd already dealt with the worst Christmases ever.  Two years ago had been the first Christmas without his father.  Last Christmas had been the last Christmas with his mother.  He'd never expected to lose both his parents, but then he'd never expected to be spending Christmas in jail.

It's not jail, his conscience reminded him.  But in common with most of the other juveniles who were staying at the facility, he certainly felt like he was in jail.  Still, he'd take jail any day over that sorry excuse for a foster family the courts had tried to make him live with.  He shifted again and thought to himself.  Merry freaking Christmas, Mangan.  Even if you get out of this place, who knows what the rest of the Cowhands will do to you?

Manor House
Sleepyside, NY

It came as a surprise to the staff of Manor House how quickly the days to Christmas flew by.  Despite all of them being on a semi-vacation, they managed to fill the days with extra chores and special projects.  Bobby Belden stopped by more often than usual, almost as if he were babysitting Regan and Miss Trask instead of the other way around. 

Their special projects expanded to include making Christmas cookies with the youngest Belden.  They worked together and helped Bobby to wrap the cookies in red tissue paper, to give as gifts to his parents and friends.  Regan gave him extra riding lessons and between Bobby and lighter job duties it was a Christmas staycation for both Margery and himself at the Manor House.  With the Wheelers’ blessing they enjoyed classic movies on the large flat screen television in the den.  Regan’s favorite, How to Marry a Millionaire, had them both laughing, but Margery’s favorite, The Lemon Drop Kid, was equally enjoyed. 

Regan was humming Christmas songs and enjoying the quiet of the stable.  The horses had been exercised, the tack was cleaned and properly stowed, and all the stalls had been mucked out.  The stable was pristine – all was right with the world.  He leaned back in his chair in the tiny office and contemplated the universe.   It would have been nice to have some company on his rides, but he wasn’t comfortable pushing Margery.  Not many women own a horse that they’re afraid to ride, he thought with a smile.  Imagine being afraid of riding a horse.  That’s when it hit him.  He had his own demons to face.  Perhaps … he sat up straight.  It was time.

Juvenile Detention Center
Bronx, NY

Dan's eyes narrowed as he moved his tray along the metal rails of the tray slide.  Unsmiling workers dumped various foods on his tray without asking him questions.  One lump was obviously potatoes.  The meat was gray and he wasn't quite certain of its origin.  The green lump was just as mysterious.  He noticed one of the Cowhands toward the back of the line.  His fellow gang member was making him nervous.  For some reason, the dude would not shut up.  His constant chatter and boasting made Dan's hands tighten on the hard plastic tray.  They had been caught -- that was nothing to brag about.

Finally, as he turned and grabbed a carton of milk and found a place at one of the long tables, he was able to get a better look at the punk.  He was a Cowhand; in fact, Dan was sure he'd been part of the group the cops rounded up.  It had seemed safe to him—grocery stores were known to have low security and the dock was stocked high with pallets of the valuable laundry detergent.  Each of them had been responsible for organizing the theft of a case, but somehow it quickly became apparent the cops were onto the scheme.

Busted for stealing Tide!  Dan was disgusted with the operation.  It was a rookie error.  He had over a year of stealing under his belt and considered himself a decent thief.  But he hadn't planned this operation; it had been Luke's brainchild.  And where was Luke ... nowhere to be seen when the cops had appeared.  Had he sold them out? 

It didn't matter; Dan preferred the gray meat and hard mattress over life with his so -called foster family any day of the week.  The man who called himself Dan's stepfather was a jerk, and when Dan realized the man was hitting on his foster sister, he'd gotten both of them out of there.  At least she's safe, he thought.  Maybe she'll remember how bad it was living with shithead and give her own Mom a second chance. 

In any event, he knew he'd never go back to a foster family.  In his own experience they all had their problems, and they were problems he didn't need.  He could make it on his own.  The Cowhands gave him a place to flop, three squares so long as he delivered his quota—and he’d never failed to deliver his quota ... until now.

Kona Island Resort
Hawaii

“Sounds like everything is under control there.” Matthew spoke into his private cell phone. 

“Yes, sir.  Are you certain that it’s okay –”

“Margery,” he interrupted.  “You should know me well enough by now to know that if I say something is okay, then it is okay.  Proceed as we discussed.  If there’s a problem, let me know.”

“Okay, sir.  And if you need anything else, you’ll let me know.”

“Absolutely.  Now, Merry Christmas!”

He disconnected the phone and smiled.  The best thing about money wasn’t the ability to take exotic vacations on a whim; it was keeping his wife surprised.  He knew that his latest idea would delight her, and Margery had agreed.  Margery’s request to access some of the resources of Wheeler International had only added to his Christmas spirit.  He leaned back in the luxurious lounge chair and reached for his drink.  Normally, he  scorned alcohol before five, but this exotic beach beverage was an exception, both tart and sweet.  He knew he’d have to limit himself or he’d be worthless the rest of the day.  Glancing at the sun, he calculated lunch was still at least an hour away.

Both Belize and St. Barth’s had proven impossible to get into so close to Christmas, but due to a last-minute cancellation his secretary had managed to get them into an exclusive Hawaiian resort on Oahu.  Basking in the sun wasn’t normally his thing, but this resort had it all – surfing, golf, horseback riding, tennis, segway tours, helicopter rides, and a spa that even his wife admitted was better than any she’d ever seen. 

Their exclusive beach cottage was larger than they needed, but they wanted the privacy and amenities it offered.  Both of them were spoiled enough to enjoy the private concierge, extra large rooms, and private chef.    It had been worth every penny to see the first sincere smile light up Grace’s face since she’d found out Honey and Jim were spending Christmas in Arizona.  Not to mention, the sight of her in the skimpy bikini more than compensated for its cost in his mind. 

Now they’d been there a few days, and Christmas was only three days away.  The horseback riding excursion that morning was over, he’d checked in with the office and his staff, and all was right with the world. 

“Hello darling, finished with your calls?”  Grace had decided she needed a quick shower after the morning ride while he'd elected to simply swim a few laps in their private pool. 

Matthew appraised her latest ensemble with an appreciative eye.  Her swimsuit, while more daring than normal, was covered with a transparent cover up that tantalized and tempted him.  Whatever it had cost, it was worth it.

“Finished for the day. Possibly even finished until after Christmas.  What about you?”

She glanced at her watch and shrugged.  “Everything is fine.”

That simple sentence told him that everything was not fine.  For one thing, she was wearing her watch at the beach.  Best to ask; after all he’d just initiated an extensive Christmas surprise for her.  If she wanted to leave, it would throw everything he’d accomplished that morning into a tailspin.   “What’s up?” he finally asked.  “You seem nervous about something.”

“I haven’t heard from Honey or Jim for a couple of days,” she admitted.  “I was getting a little worried.  You know, that’s not like either of them.”

Matthew had to agree, but he also knew as Christmas Day approached the more likely the kids would be distracted by the events at their resort. “Remember, darling, they’re also at a resort.  Look at all the activities here.  I’m sure they’re dealing with trying to fit in as many fun things as they can before they return to Sleepyside.”

“I know you’re right,” she admitted.  “I gave them all the numbers myself, even though both of them assured me that your secretary had already provided them.  It’s just not like them not to call.”

“They’ve never been on a trip like that before,” he said.  Trying a different tactic, he continued,  “Besides, we can always call them.”

Grace bit her lip and nodded.  “Yes, of course.  I’ll do that in a bit if they don’t call.”  She forced a smile and looked at him.  “Did you order lunch?”

“I did,” he assured her. But we have time.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Time?  Time for what?”

He reached for her then and pulled her into his lap.  He whispered into her ear.  “Time for us to make this a honeymoon cottage.”

She laughed and circled her arms around his neck.  “Matthew, darling, we’ve never stopped honeymooning!”

Juvenile Detention Center
Bronx, NY

“What do you think about Santa Claus?”

Dan blinked.  Under normal circumstances he’d never have indicated to the court-appointed counselor that any of her questions elicited a reaction from him, but that was the last question he expected to hear during the mandatory counseling session.  Sure, it was almost Christmas, but he’d never thought the holiday would bring anything other than a candy cane with the inmates’ usual evening meal.

The counselor slowly repeated the question.  “Santa Claus.  What do you think about him?”

Dan shook his head.  “I don’t think about him.  Haven’t thought about him in years.  You do know how old I am, right?”

The counselor nodded.  “Yes, but I want to know your feelings.”

Dan shrugged.  “He’s a myth.  Some might say it’s the big lie that parents get away with telling their kid.  Right up there with the tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny.”

“Did you feel like your parents lied to you about Santa?”

“No.” 

His answer was short and succinct.  The last thing he wanted to talk about was his parents, and the last thing he ever intended to believe in was the existence of a jolly old fat man with whiskers.

“Then why did you say it?”

“I didn’t say it; I said that some people might say that.”

“Okay, then play along with me …  if you could have anything in the world for Christmas, if nothing were impossible, what would you ask Santa to bring you?”

“He’s not real!”

“Humor me, Daniel.”  The retort was firm.

He considered the question for a moment.  “Family,” he finally answered.  “I’d want my family.”

Manor House
Sleepyside, NY

“That’s all there is to it?” Regan asked in disbelief.

“That’s all there is to it.” She smiled.  “It’s quite easy, but it lets anyone who might be looking know that you want to be found, and that you are interested in finding them.  It can be quite useful for closed adoptions.”

Regan gave her a pointed look.  “How did you know about this?”

Margery shrugged.  “Remember, before I came to the Wheelers I was a teacher at a private school.  More than one young girl who came into my classes was adopted.  It was something we could do to help them.” 

Regan sensed there was more, but he let it go.   With this registration, he’d done more  to advance the search for his sister than all of the hours he’d spent hunting information  on the computers at the library.  “Maybe it will work, but even if it doesn’t we only wasted what … like fifteen minutes?”

“Not even that!” she said cheerfully.  “I’d say it was time well spent.  What changed your mind?”

Regan shrugged and held up his hands.  “I kept wondering why I hesitated about looking for her.  I think I was afraid of what I might find.  That’s when I realized that if I had the choice between knowing the worst had happened and not ever knowing, well …”

“You want to know.”

He nodded slowly.  “Not knowing – is the scariest part of all.  Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she said.  “When my sister had her surgery to find out if she’d ever walk again those six hours she was in surgery were the scariest time of my life.”

Regan nodded.  “Exactly!  Why it’s even scarier than ride—"  he stopped as he realized what he’d almost said.  He looked at the computer and pointed to the time displayed in the bottom corner.

“I’d say it was time for coffee and tea, what about you?”

Margery stared.  “You’re right, you know,” she said softly.  “It was scarier than anything else.  Even learning to ride a horse.  I’ve been a silly old woman.”

“You’re not old!” he protested.

“Okay, but I was silly.  How about instead of coffee and tea we have another riding lesson?”

Regan grinned and stood up.  “As Honey Wheeler would say … it sounds perfectly perfect!”

Christmas Day

“Merry Christmas, Mother!  Merry Christmas, Daddy!”  Honey couldn’t quite keep the quaver out of her voice.  Christmas in Arizona was everything they’d hoped for, even working for a good chunk of the time had been worth it for all the good they’d done to help other people, including Di’s uncle.  But still, she missed her parents.  Even if they were dragging her to some cold, glittery Christmas party in the city, they were still together on Christmas Day. 

“Dad!  Mother!  Merry Christmas!”  Jim chimed in.  The siblings stood together, with the phone on speaker mode as they exchanged Christmas greetings.

“Merry Christmas, darlings!”  Grace returned the greeting.  She had heard Honey’s quaver and hoped her tone conveyed the love and longing that would show her daughter she missed her—and Jim—just as much.

“Merry Christmas, Honey!  Merry Christmas, Jim!  Hope you kids have been having a good time.”

“It’s been the best, Daddy,” Honey assured him.  “We’ll have so much to tell you when we get back home.”

“It has been pretty awesome, sir.”  Jim added his two cents.  “They have some wonderful horses, and the riding trails are a lot different than the preserve.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you kids about,” Matthew interjected.  “Do you have your envelope?”

Honey and Jim glanced down at the federal express package in front of them.  “Yes, Daddy.  It’s right here.  We haven’t opened it, just like it said on the envelope.”

“Grace, do you have yours?”

Unseen to Honey and Jim, she waved it cheerfully in front of Matthew’s face. “Right here, darling!”

“Okay then … at the count of three, everyone open their envelope.”  Honey handed Jim’s envelope to him. 

“We’re ready, Dad.”  Jim smiled as his sister and they waited for the countdown to begin.

“One …. Two …. Three!”

The sound of ripping paper filled the phone lines for a few seconds and then there was nothing but gasps and squeals. 

“Daddy!”

“Oh, Matthew darling!”  Grace rained kisses all over her husband’s face.

“Wow!”  Jim was stunned he stared at the plane ticket confirmation in his hand.  “We’re going to Hawaii?”

“That’s right.  Your mother and I have been enjoying a few days of holiday, but we want some special time with our kids.  Instead of flying back to Sleepyside, we’d like you both to fly out here and join us for New Year’s.  Then we can all fly back home together.”

Home. 

There’s no place like home, Jim thought.  But for a celebration with his new family on their first Christmas together, being together was better than being home.

New Year’s Eve

Dan contemplated the last day of the year and yet another counseling session.  It was New Year’s Eve and the last thing he wanted was another conversation with his counselor.  He still believed Luke had set him up.  The other Cowhand who’d been in the detention center with him was long gone.  Now he was stuck here, his court-appointed personal representative along with his counselor were both expecting to meet with him.  It couldn’t be anything good.

The worst part of juvie was no breaks for the holidays.  Where regular school usually dismissed for a couple of weeks, they’d still been expected to attend classes and all their usual chores still had to be done.  Christmas Day was the only day there were no classes.  The only other difference in the day had been the shoebox full of personal care products and a pair of holiday pajama pants along with special meals. 

“Daniel.  Daniel Mangan?”

The voice of his personal representative interrupted his musings.  “Sir?”  He stood up as both his personal representative and counselor came into the room, along with someone he’d never seen before.  If he’d learned nothing else at juvie, he’d learned not to ask questions. 

“Daniel, this gentleman is a private investigator.  He’d like to ask you some questions.”

Private investigator.  Daniel’s eyes narrowed.  Private cop more like it.  “Do I have to answer?” he asked.

The three adults exchanged questioning looks before his personal representative spoke up.  “No, not if you don’t want to, but I will advise you that it’s probably in your best interest to answer his questions.” 

“What does he want to know?”

“Mr. Mangan, do you remember the names of your parents?”

“Yeah ... uh, yes.”  That was the last question he’d been expecting.

“Would you mind verifying them for me?” 

“Dad’s name was Tim, short for Timothy.  Mom was Kelly.  Kelly Mangan.”

“Do you know your mother’s last name before she married your Dad?”

“Um, I think it was Regan.  Kelly Anne Regan.  Is it okay for me to ask why you want to know?”

The private investigator nodded, jotted something in a notebook, basically ignoring Dan’s question.  “Did your parents ever talk about any other family members -- parents, brothers, sisters, anything?”

“Yeah,” he said.  “Mom had a brother.  Billy, she called him.  But she said she didn’t know where he was.  Why are you asking?”

“George!”  Margery exclaimed as she opened the door to Manor House.  “You’re the last person we expected to see today.  Matthew is still in Hawaii with the family.”

“Yes, I know, Margery.  Perhaps I could come in?”  George Rainsford quirked a questioning brow at her.  It was clear that he had flustered the normally unflappable woman.

“Oh, dear.  Yes, please come in.  I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.  Please.”  Opening the door wider, she beckoned him inside.  “Let me get you some tea, or would you prefer coffee?”

“Margery.”  He spoke quietly.  “Relax.  It’s just me.  Matthew wanted me to deliver this news in person.  He thought it would be best.”

She took a deep breath.  “It’s about Kelly, isn’t it?”

He nodded.  “May I suggest that you find Bill Regan and bring him to Matthew’s study?  Some coffee would be good.”  He knew that neither he nor Regan would want coffee.  This occasion was going to call for scotch, but he knew where Matthew Wheeler kept the liquor.  He also knew his long-time friend would not care if he deemed it necessary to help himself, and his groom, to a drink.

Fifteen minutes later the trio assembled in Mr. Wheeler’s study.  “Bill,” he started quietly.  “Matthew asked me to initiate some inquiries into locating your sister.”

“What?” 

The young man was obviously surprised.  George wished that Margery had told Bill what she’d started.  “He wanted to do it as a Christmas gift for you.  He hoped I might find her in time for a holiday celebration for the two of you.”

“Did you?  Find her, I mean?” he stammered.

“In a way,” he admitted.  “Bill, I hate to tell you this but your sister died last year.  It was a very aggressive form of breast cancer, and she went quickly.”  He glanced down at his notes, not because he needed to refer to them, but to give the groom a chance to absorb this news before he delivered the rest.  “I take it you didn’t know that she had gotten married.”

Bill shook his head.  “The last time I saw her, she had a man with her, but I don’t remember his name.  Jim, Tim, something like that I think, but not his last name.”

“Timothy Daniel Mangan,” George confirmed.  Margery looked on but said nothing.  Her hands were tightly clasped, and she was obviously questioning her interference in Regan’s personal affairs.

“He’s also dead.  He was enlisted in the military and was involved an IED explosion.  He died almost two years before she did.”

“So that’s it, then.  She’s gone.  They’re both gone.”  Regan blew out a breath as he absorbed the news.  After a few moments, he noticed the stricken look on Margery’s face and reached out to take her hand.  “Don’t beat yourself up, Marge,” he said, giving the hand a squeeze.  “I promise that it’s better knowing than not knowing.  Always wondering what might be going on.  I only wish I could’ve been there when she lost her husband and when she was sick.  I hate to think of her going through all that alone.”

George Rainsford cleared his throat.  “That’s why I’m here, Bill.  You see, she wasn’t alone.”

“What do you mean?”

George handed over a snapshot.  “You have a nephew.”

“Nephew?” he said weakly.  He looked at the photograph.  “He’s a teenager?”

“Yes, he’ll be fifteen in a few months.”

“Can I see him?  Where is he?  Did they put him in an orphanage as well?”

George held up a hand.  “Hold on, Bill.  It’s not the best story.  Right now he’s in a juvenile detention center.  He’s managed to get into some trouble since your sister died.  Gang activity, mostly petty thefts, and no drugs it seems, but if we can work something out, there might be a chance to turn him around – save him from that sort of life.”

A chance.  That was all anyone in the Regan family tree ever needed, just a chance.  If they’d given him and Kelly a chance, they would’ve both made it.  Regan stood, hands on his hips, his green eyes blazing.

“Then we’re going to save him.”