The Christmas Blessing

Luciana (Lucky) Donovan inhaled and a shudder of pure pleasure shook her. Heavenly smells. Wonderful aromas. Garlic, onions, lemons, cinnamon, thoughts of vanilla wafted through her mind when the voice of Marcos Vitelli brought her out of her scent induced ecstasy.

“Wake up, Lucky. You’ve been standing there for five minutes with your eyes closed.”

Lucky sighed, laid the chef’s knife gently on the cutting board, and swiveled her head to stare at Marcos. She loved Marcos, she reminded herself. He’d been her best friend for ten years despite her attempts to ignore him. He was like a Great Dane puppy. Big, lean, handsome in the way men of Italian heritage could be.

“You really know how to spoil a girl’s pleasure.” She leaned against the kitchen counter. “Why are you here interrupting me, anyway?”

“I remembered you were working the soup kitchen this weekend. I thought you could use a sous chef.”

A smile tilted her lips upward. “I could but why are you here?”

He tried to look offended but couldn’t hold the expression. His dark eyes laughed, and his teeth flashed white. “Okay, I was bored and thinking of you here helping the homeless made me feel guilty. I want to help.”

“I have help. Didn’t you notice Holly when you walked in?”

“The pretty girl setting the tables?”

“That’s her.” Lucky’s eyes, as dark as Marc’s eyes, saddened. “She spends a lot of time here. Her little brother, Eric, is usually here too but he’s late today. She’s worried about him.”

She gazed through the opening between the kitchen and the big hall filled with tables and benches. She donated time to the soup kitchen as often as she could. She especially loved cooking the special foods for the upcoming holiday, a week away.

Sixteen years old, Holly stood at the side board filling salt and pepper shakers. Her long, honey-blond hair needed a good trim but it looked healthy and shiny. Her clothes, while ill-fitting and old, looked clean. Lucky had no idea where the girl found facilities to keep herself as tidy as she always appeared.

The door slammed open. Holly’s little brother, Eric, slouched into the room. Lucky sighed. How often had she seen a young person heading down the wrong path? Lucky knew, clear down to her toes, that Eric was headed toward a dark place.

“Hey,” Marc came close enough to poke Lucky in the ribs. “You’ve gone away again. Pay attention.”

“I am, Marc; just not on you.” She turned her gaze back to him. “Tell me again why you’re here?”

“I’m bored. I feel guilty that you’re here giving of your time and energy and I was home being a slug. Put me to work.”

She eyed him, put him to work? She had just the job.



“How many onions do you need?” Marc put his knife down and glared at Lucky. Tears poured down his cheeks. “I’m blind from all the fumes. Tell me again why you subject yourself to this? Isn’t it torture fixing all this food when you can’t eat any of it?”

Lucky stopped beating eggs destined to become meringue. How could she explain things to Marc? Would he understand the exquisite torture of not being able to eat?
“I love food. When I could no longer eat solid food, I became aware of the smell of food. When garlic hits the oil, or a splash of good red wine.” She closed her eyes, thinking about the sensations that assaulted her senses. “It’s heaven, Marc. Pure heaven.” She sighed, knowing he’d never understand. How could he?

“I cook because it gives me pleasure. Enough joy that it balances the torture of not being able to taste the food.”

Marc sent a baleful look toward the onions waiting to be chopped. “What happens if you taste the food?”

Lucky’s stomach curdled at the thought. “Something you never want to witness. It’s not pretty and it’s extremely painful.”

“Excuse me.” A light, hesitant voice interrupted their conversation. “I’ve finished the salt and pepper shakers. What do you need help with next?”

Lucky smiled at Holly. The girl was always well-mannerd and better help than anybody else had been. “Isn’t there something you’d rather be doing than helping at a soup kitchen?”

Holly’s pretty blue eyes looked anxious. “You aren’t sending me away, are you? Truly, I don’t have anywhere else I can be. I’ll do anything you want.” She looked at Marc. “I’ll finish the onions for you. Your eyes are really red. I could give you a break.”

Marc gave Holly a brilliant smile. “I accept your offer, pretty lady. The knife is yours.” He bowed elegantly and presented the chef’s knife to the girl, hilt first. “I’m grateful beyond words.”

She giggled a lilting, joyful sound. Lucky glared at Marc. “Just for that, I’m putting you on garlic duty.”

She saw the devilish glint in his eyes and braced herself for his irreverent question but he glanced at Holly and came to his senses.

Warm contentment filled Lucky. Companionship was rare and greatly valued. Despite her resistance, Marcos had found a place in her heart. And she felt strangely drawn to Holly. The girl’s silence disturbed her.

“Is everything okay?” She spoke in as casual a voice as she could manage. The last thing she wanted to do was make the girl wary.

Holly looked up, tears on her cheeks just as Marc had when he chopped onions but the sadness clouding Holly’s eyes suggested the tears might be more than onion-induced.

Marc offered Holly a paper towel. “Use it,” he urged her. “Those onions are brutal.”

The girl mopped her face, smiling her thanks to Marc. “I’m fine. Really.” She hesitated, glanced through the opening checking to see where her brother was. He sat at a far table, his head on his arms and apparently asleep.

“I’m worried. Eric is staying out too late. He’s running with a local gang. I’m so afraid we’ll lose him.” Her voice cracked and she hastily wiped the towel over her face again, scrubbing it free of tears.

Lucky gently moved the cutting board full of chopped onions away from Holly and pushed a bowl and whisk toward her. “Whisk, while you’re stirring pour the oil in very slowly and watch what it does.”

Holly nodded and obediently followed Lucky’s instructions. Concentrating on her job, she spoke almost without thought.

“Eric is changing. He’s gotten rude, almost mean in his treatment of me and our mother. I don’t like what he’s becoming.”

Marc eyed the cutting board, sighed, picked up the knife and began chopping the last two onions. “What does your mother say?”

Lucky heard the hitch in Holly’s breathing, almost a soft choke. When the girl spoke, her voice shook, just a little bit. “The mother I remember would have handled things. But…mom isn’t what she used to be.”

Holly looked up, her eyes blurry and glazed as she struggled to find words. “Mom…has problems now. She’s not herself. But I remember the way she was. I remember what she taught me. Eric doesn’t. It’s not his fault.”

The girl broke and stopped stirring. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this right now. I’ll be back soon.” She left, almost running by the time she got to the front door.




The hunter moved through the night searching for prey. Tonight only one person would satisfy. The hunter searched memory, pulling up what little information known.
The night belonged to the hunter. The darkness; a friend.

Opening up to the myriad streams of consciousness, the hunter searched for one single life line. There, wispy, faint, the hunter ran through the night. If anybody saw the hunter all that would register was a ripple in the air; a blur of movement with no defining characteristic.

The hunter reveled in the run; a glorious freedom in a life of restrictions.

The woman staggered out of the bar, called by something she couldn’t identify. Her brain, so fogged by the drugs in her body, she had no will or reason to fight back.
She was easy prey for the hunter. Snagged, and bagged. The hunter took the woman.




“Don’t you ever sleep?” Marcos deep voice ended on a big yawn. He leaned in the doorway, eyeing Lucky.

“There’s a lot to do this week if I want to feed a hundred people.” She pushed a wisp of dark hair off her forehead, using her forearm so she wouldn’t have to wash her hands again. “This is my second busiest cooking week. Thanksgiving is bigger but Christmas is important. We give a meal, a place to be for people who have nowhere else to go.”

She smiled, looking into the great room where a large Christmas tree stood in all its holiday glory; mounds of presents, donations from a generous public, piled beneath it. With a bit of luck there would be a gift for everybody.

“I know.” Marc straightened up, all the teasing gone now. “I’ve cleared my calendar so I can help you all week. I figured you could use extra hands.”

“That’s no lie.” She blew upwards at the unruly lock of hair. “Holly will be in soon. She seems to show up every day at seven. I don’t know what she’s hiding from but she seems frightened.”

Marc and Lucky worked in companionable silence, so comfortable with each other they needed no words.

Holly slipped into the kitchen, as silent as a ghost. About as pale as one, too. Lucky eyed the girl. “What’s wrong? You look awful.”

Blue eyes, looking haunted above the dark circles under them, Holly visibly shook. Marc strode to her and pulled the girl into a warm, comforting hug. Holly resisted, for just a moment, before turning into his shoulder and crying as if her heart would break.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She dabbed at Marc’s wet shirt. “I’ve gone and slobbered all over you.”

“No problem, sweetie. I can handle a little snot.” He gave her hair a gentle rub before sitting her at the kitchen table. Lucky joined them at the table.

“Tell us what’s wrong,” she urged Holly. “We can help.”

“No, you can’t.” Holly shook her head. “Nobody can help. My mother is missing. Eric is out of control. I don’t know what to do.”

“Hold on.” Marcos took Holly’s hand and held it tight. “Don’t go to pieces on us. Just tell us what’s happened and we’ll help you figure out what to do.”

She gulped, long and hard, before squeezing his hand back. “All right. Mom is a mess. She has been for a long time but she always comes home. Always. She didn’t come home last night. I called the hospital and the police station to see if she was ill or arrested. No sign of her anywhere. They don’t consider her a missing person yet and I hung up because they asked how old I am. I didn’t want to get scooped up by DCSF.

She gulped on a swallowed sob, “Although, that might be best for Eric. He’s wild this morning. Angry. He stormed out the door and I don’t know where he went but I fear he went to Luigi’s.”

“Who is Luigi?” Lucky kept her voice neutral and calm.

“Not a who,” Holly answered. “Luigi’s is a hangout. Eric is too young to be there but they don’t care. It’s awful. No place for a boy. No place for anybody really.”
Despair thickened Holly’s voice. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t control him. Nobody can right now.”

The slamming of the front door made Holly jump. A loud voice yelling Holly’s name brought Marc and Lucky to their feet.

Lucky beat Marc to the kitchen door and stood in it, blocking his exit. She knew him too well. Better to keep him in the kitchen.

“Move out of my way.” The angry-eyed man moved close to Lucky, into her space, pushing at her with his energy. “I’ve come for Holly. Her brother needs her.”

Lucky felt Marc move behind her, trusted him to keep Holly in the kitchen. She read the man in front of her as easily as she read the Sunday funnies.
“Holly isn’t going anywhere. If you’re wise you’ll leave Holly alone. Stay away from Eric, too.”

“Eric is mine, now. One of ours. We’re taking Holly too.”

“I think not.” Lucky eyed the man, from his shaved head, numerous tattoos, piercings in places never meant for a hole. The man was strong, obviously a serious body builder. And evil rolled off of him in sickening waves adding to the unpleasant odors surrounding him like a dirty fog.

He offended Lucky on every level, but most of all he offended her sensitive nose. “Leave now and don’t return unless you’re coming in for a meal. We feed the hungry.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” The man leaned in until he almost touched her. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

She opened her eyes wide, catching his gaze, not allowing him to look away. She whispered, “You don’t get it. You don’t give orders here. You do what I say; when I say it.”

She hissed, power in her voice. “Leave,now, and don’t… come…back.”

He struggled, she gave him that, but he turned and left, fighting her every step of the way.

She spoke over her shoulder, keeping her eyes on the door to make sure he didn’t come back in. “He’s gone, Holly. Don’t worry about him.”

“I don’t worry about him. I worry about Eric. I don’t know how to get Eric away from him.” Hysteria rode very close to the surface. Lucky could hear it in the timbre of Holly’s voice.

“Don’t worry.” She said again. “I know somebody who can help. I’ll make a phone call.”

Marc grabbed her arm as she walked toward her purse holding her cell phone. “Are you going to call the person I think you’re going to call? You said you’d never contact him.”

“I was wrong.” Lucky sighed. Kellen Goodnight was trouble with a capital T. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to him and even less ask a favor from him. “I’ll swallow my pride just this once.”

Marcos groaned. “It’s never just once with Kellen. This gives him a toehold. You’re opening a can of worms you might not be able to close.”

“I’ll deal with that later. Right now Eric needs help and we can help him.” Lucky pulled away from Marcos, pulled out her phone and dialed a number she’d sworn never to use.

He answered on the second ring.

“Luciana, my love. This is a surprise.”

The Irish lilt in his voice always strengthened when he talked to her. On purpose, she thought. He knew how susceptible she was to the Irish.

“Don’t read too much into it.” She warned him. “One of my sheep has left the flock.”

She knew by the time lapse she’d surprised him.

“Are you saying I should look for your missing lamb?”

How perceptive of him, she thought, that he would realize only for a child would she turn to him.

“Yes, Kellen. I’d like for you to find my missing lamb. I give you permission to scare him out of a year’s growth but do not harm one hair on his head.”

She hesitated, then added slowly, “Harm Eric not, but you can have the wolf that lured him away. I don’t care what you do with the leader of the gang that has Eric. You can start at Luigi’s. I’ll text you the information you’ll need.”

Kellen stayed silent so long, she feared he would refuse his help. Then his voice, Irish brogue diminished, telling her clearer than words that he was serious and out of his teasing mode.

“Yes, love. I’ll help you out. I don’t like the ones who prey on children. I’ll get your missing lamb back. You’ll have him home in time for Christmas.”

The words were bitter but her gratitude real. “Thank you, Kellen. I owe you one.”

“That you do, love. We’ll work that out at a later date. I’ll contact you when I have the lamb back.”

Lucky closed the call, deep in thought before she turned back to Holly. The girl was a mess but she was safer at the soup kitchen than she was on the streets. Here, they could protect her.

“Stay here during the day. You can stay in the spare bedroom at Marc’s house at night.”

“That’s not a good idea, Lucky. If an underage girl is found at my house, we could all get in trouble.”

“It’s not a perfect solution,” Lucky agreed. “But you know why she can’t stay at my house. If you can’t put her up then install her in a secure hotel room. I’ll pay for the room if you escort her to it at night and pick her up in the mornings. We need to make sure she’s safe from the gang holding Eric. They can’t know where she is or how to contact her.”

“Agreed,” Marc nodded. He angled a look down at Holly. “Will you abide by our rules?”

“Of course, I will. I’m not stupid. I’ve managed so far to stay away from the people who mean me harm. I can’t help my mother and brother. I’m not going to risk me, too.”

“That’s good, then.” Lucky nodded at Marc. “We’ll work here during the day and then do what we can at night. It’s the best we can manage at the moment.”
She gave Holly jobs. None of them fun, but all designed to keep the girl busy. The day couldn’t fly fast enough to suit her.




The hunter looked at the woman, shaking on the bed. Her hair was a mess, and the remnants of a pretty young woman barely recognizable in a face that looked sixty years old.

Unclean. Both inside and outside.

The hunter probed gently at the woman’s mind. It was a cesspool; a morass of guilt and shame, and a hunger that rivaled the hunter’s own. Hunger, the hunter understood. Hunger clawed at one's gut with an unending ache.

Not yet. To feed now would be to take on the woman’s uncleanness. A few days to purify the blood. Hard to wait.

“Wake up.” The hunter spoke roughly to break through the woman’s apathy. “You need to eat clean food. Drink lots of water to flush the toxins out of your body.”

“I can’t eat.” The woman spoke and the hunter saw the black and broken teeth. She must have a lot of pain and little ability to chew. Why would she do this to herself? Whatever started her on this path to destruction?

“I have soup for you. It’s pureed and full of goodness. You’ll drink it and get stronger. I want you to shower. I’ve put clean clothes for you in the bathroom.”

The woman started to cry. Slow tears, as if her body didn’t have enough moisture in her to make them. “I need to be home. I’ve always gone home.”

The hunter eyed the wreck of humanity lying on the bed. Pity stirred but also anger. The children should have come first. It wasn’t enough that the woman thought of them. She should have lived for them.

“If you do as I say, you’ll go home to them. And you’ll be better. This I promise, but for now,” the hunter’s voice changed, fueled by the power of the hunter’s will. The woman had no defenses against the wishes of the hunter.

“Take your shower. Put on clean clothes. Eat the soup and drink the water. You will stay here until I return. Do you understand me?”

The woman’s eyes glazed over. The hunter’s commands overriding the drugs in the woman’s body. She would obey.




Kellen Goodnight, Irish rogue, strode into Luigi’s as if he owned it. Den of iniquity, he thought. How many had he seen over the last five hundred years? They might change in appearance but the feel of them stayed the same.

Around him swirled a dark, unsavory energy and a feeling of danger. He knew how many people inhabited the room before he ever entered. He slid into predator mode as easily as he opened the door.

Predator and prey. When the cat saw mice, what could he do but play? A feral smile tilted the corners of Kellen’s lips. There was nothing he liked better than playing with a wee mouse.

He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror above the bar. Slim, not big by today’s standards but lithe, and lean, and lightning fast. His blondish-brown hair looked wind-blown and tousled making his bright blue eyes look overlarge on his fine-boned, good-looking face.

He’d startled the mice. Three at the bar, two men and one girl. Two more playing pool, the teens automatically straightening up and sliding the pool cues into threatening weapons. A large, ugly man looking more like a gorilla than human stood behind the bar. His hands slid out of sight and Kellen knew he reached for a weapon.
In the corner, so shadowed the two sitting there would have been invisible to normal vision, sat a man and a boy.

“Lucky’s lamb.” Kellen smiled. A full, reckless grin. His blue eyes lightened with a crazy fire. “Ahh, love. I’ll have him back by breakfast.”

The boy’s eyes were bleary, no doubt from the alcohol sitting freely available in front of him. No drugs yet, Kellen probed the boy’s mind gently all the while monitoring the others. Good thing he’d come right away. The boy’s will was weak and the man forceful.

Kellen took out the man behind the bar first. The gun posed a risk; not of death, it took more than a bullet to kill him, but it hurt like a son of a gun. He’d rather not risk the injury.

In moves too fast for the human eye to follow, Kellen moved through the room laying out the bartender. The two men and the girl sitting at the bar went next, followed by the pool players. They never had time to raise the pool cues, so fast Kellen moved.

By the time he reached Luciana’s lamb, the man had risen to his feet, staring at the shamble Kellen had made in less than the blink of an eye.

Eric swayed on the chair but without the urging from the older man slid forward and rested his head on the table. Kellen knew nothing he’d seen would be remembered. And what was to come was best not seen by a young boy.

The man reached for a knife. Kellen, in a move shocking by its casualness, reached out and broke the man’s wrist. He captured the man’s mind, preventing him from further retaliation.

“Not so fast, boyo. You and I have business.”

The man snarled, “I’ve never seen you before in my life. What right do you have to break up Luigi’s?”

Kellen smiled, and patted the man on the cheek. “What right do you have to corrupt a young lad?”

To make sure the man understood the situation, Kellen allowed the change to take place. Anger rode inside him, and he wanted to taste this man’s fear. He inhaled, taking in the smell of blood, prepared himself for the feeding. His teeth lengthened and he smiled.

The man recoiled and made the sign of the Holy Cross. Kellen, raised Catholic did the same. “I’m surprised you remember your childhood. You left it long ago.”

He rifled through the man’s mind. Searching back through the years and saw when the corruption started. Saw how it progressed and darkened the man’s soul.

“What’s your name, boyo?”

The man struggled. Kellen gave him points for that but nobody, except maybe Luciana, could hold out against Kellen in his full power.

“Craig.” Hate filled the man’s eyes. But more than hate rode fear. The inborn fear all humans carried for such as Kellen.

“Not Spider?” Kellen reached out to touch the spider web tattooed on the man’s neck. The man tried to recoil but Kellen’s hold on him was too tight.

Kellen turned his head toward the pool table. One of the players must have a particularly hard head. He turned his back on Craig, knowing the man wouldn’t move, and strode back to the awakening player. He didn’t need to hit him. He sent a mental probe into the man’s brain and put him in a sleep deeper than any anesthesia ever could.

He turned back to Craig. And a joyful smile lit his face. Luciana had told him to frighten Eric but he could have the leader. He’d kill two birds with one stone.

“Wake up, little lamb.” He laid a hand on Eric’s head. He wanted the boy awake, aware but he wanted him to feel every ounce of pain that alcohol could give. He filled the boy’s mind full of images, and knowledge. Kellen had centuries of experience to call upon.

Into the boy’s mind he fed story, after story, of how alcohol destroyed. He added drugs into the picture. He showed Eric scenarios that hurt and burned.

“Now, watch and remember, little lamb. This is the end that comes to one who strays off the straight and narrow.”

Eric cowered in the corner of the room. He’d moved away from Kellen, inch by inch. The man had pushed at him until the boy had nowhere else to go. Kellen placed a hold command on the boy, forcing him to stay in the corner. To watch what happened to the Spider.

Eric would be the last fly the Spider ever caught.



The hunter watched the woman. Shaky, but sober. Clean clothes and a clean body made a great deal of difference. She still looked old beyond her years but maybe that could change if the woman wanted to change hard enough.

“It’s time.” The hunter moved toward the woman. “Do you want to go home to your children?”

The eager eyes spoke volumes. “Yes, oh yes. Please let me go to them. They must be frantic.”

The hunter nodded. Hunger rode in waves. The feeding had to happen tonight.

“I’ll help you but first, I have to explain something to you.” The hunter sank to a crouch looking directly into the woman’s eyes. There must be no misunderstanding.
“I require sustenance. I can take it, or you can offer it. It’s easier if you agree. In return, I’ll clean your body of the desire for drugs. I’ll take away the hunger in payment for you satisfying mine.”

The woman spoke slowly. “I don’t understand.”

The hunter said, “With your permission, I will show you.”

The woman nodded, and the hunter synced with the woman’s brain waves; merged their consciousness. With a gentle touch, careful to cause as little discomfort as possible, the hunter showed the woman what was required.

“I understand.” The woman opened her eyes. Tears welled and rolled down her cheek. “I agree. Oh, God, I agree.”

The hunter moved to sit beside the woman. Picking up the woman’s arm, holding it with a gentle touch, head bowed, the words of the centuries old prayer of thanksgiving came spilling out.

Simple words, but heartfelt.

“Thank you, Lord, for the bountiful gift. I give thanks for this sustenance that you provide.”

The hunter fed from the wrist of the woman taking care to control the pain receptors in the woman’s mind. There must be no pain in a gift freely given.
When finished with the feeding, the cleansing would be done. And the woman could return home.




Christmas morning dawned clear and cold. Lucky hummed as she prepared for the lunch crowd. Holly came in earlier than usual. The girl’s eyes were shadowed and tired. Marcos accompanied the girl. His bright face and cheerful whistle earned him a baleful look from Holly.

Lucky laughed. “Ignore him, Holly. He’s a morning person.”

Holly eyed her curiously. “You aren’t? You’re always here early.”

Lucky shook her head. “I much prefer the night. I show up because there is work to do. Not because I like being up in the morning.”

The opening of the front door startled them. Kellen’s cheerful voice sent Holly scampering to the kitchen doorway. Lucky and Marc crowded behind her.

Kellen stood inside the front door. He was covered head to toe in a long coat. A full ski mask covered his face; his eyes visible but shadowed by the wide-brimmed hat.

“Come along, boyo. Don’t let the winter in. Let’s get the door shut.”

He reached behind him, pulling a slight figure forward. Holly shrieked and ran for her brother, catching him in a big bear hug before he could hide behind Kellen to avoid it.

“Eric, I’ve been out of my mind with worry.” She turned and grabbed Kellen and hugged him too.

“Well, now.” He grinned as he pulled his hat and ski mask off. “That was as nice a greeting as I’ve ever gotten.”

The Irish lilt was back. Lucky sighed. Kellen in teasing mode was almost more than she could bear. Just having him in the same room was putting an unbearable strain on her.

She looked closely at Eric. Clear eyes, a bit haunted but clean. “Are you okay?”

He looked in her eyes for one brief moment, then away. His voice sounded gruff, “I am now, yeah.” He gave a sideways glance at Kellen, and Lucky could see a hint of confusion before his eyes cleared.

“I don’t remember much. Kellen found me at Luigi’s but I don’t remember going there. The last thing I remember was falling asleep at the table over there.”
Lucky eyed Kellen. She would get the story from him later.

“We’ll consider it a blessing that you’re here. A blessing, indeed.”

Holly nodded. “If our mother would get home, I’d have the best Christmas ever.”

Eric looked worried. “She’s not back yet? Have you called the police?”

“I wanted to,” Holly told him. “But I was afraid they’d take us away from her. Lucky told me to wait and see what happens. If she’s not back by the end of the week, we’ll come up with a plan.”

“Aye,” Kellen nodded. “If your wee mother doesn’t show up, I’ll hunt for her. I found young Eric, didn’t I?”

Eric nodded. The smiled shyly at Lucky. “I’m really hungry. When does the meal get served?”

Lucky glanced at the clock. “Yikes. We’re running behind. If you guys will all pitch in, we’ll have food ready in no time. The doors open at eleven and we eat at noon.”

Lucky assigned tasks, put Christmas music on to play, and plugged in the Christmas lights. At ten-thirty people began to come through the doors; old people, young people, families and solitary loners. The tables began to fill and noise and chatter filled the great room.

Kellen, unable to resist the lure of playing Santa began to hand out presents despite Lucky’s attempts to persuade him to wait until after the meal.

“And sure, the people are bored and need something to do.” He smiled at her, charming and rakish. Once again she fought age-old instincts. She owed him that today of all days.

The bell jingled above the door and a lone woman stepped into the room. Ragged, but clean. Broken black teeth but a beautiful smile; happy and joyful.
Holly shrieked, and Eric let out a yell. Both children ran for her. Laughing, crying, with hugs all around.

“You were right.” Holly grabbed Lucky in an exuberant hug. “She came home. And look at her. I haven’t seen her eyes this bright in…oh years.”

Pandemonium reigned. Kellen approached the group, envelope in hand. “Sure, and I think this might be for you, mother of Holly and Eric.” He held the envelope out to the woman, giving her a courtly kiss on the cheek as he handed it over.

Confusion clouded the woman’s eyes. “Who in the world would write me?”

Holly laughed. “I don’t think it’s a letter, Mom. It’s Christmas and everybody is getting gifts. I think this is your gift.”

“Open it, Mom.” Eric urged.

The woman struggled, and Kellen took it from her, gently sliding a finger under the flap and opening it for her. He handed it back and she pulled the card free.

She opened it and read: Dear Eileen A benefactor has prepaid our office for dental work. Please stop by at your convenience to set up appointments for the replacement of your teeth. Sincerely the office of Dr. Brian Sheldon DDS

“Oh, my. Teeth?” She raised a hand to her mouth and tears flooded her eyes. “I could look normal again?”

Holly and Eric looked stunned. The boy took the card from his mother, read it, then passed it to his sister. “Holly, would you look at that?”

“I am looking. What a blessing.” She whispered. “Mom, you go the first day they’re open after the holiday. Promise me you’ll do this.”

Eileen nodded. “Of course, I will. I learned my lesson this week. I’m putting you kids first. I let you down but not anymore.”

“Look here.” Kellen pulled another envelope from his pocket. “This has Master Eric’s name on it.”

Eric looked stunned. “Me? Who would give me a present?” He had no difficulty opening the envelope. He ripped it open, and a set of keys fell on the floor. He scooped them up never taking his eyes off the card.

“Ma, Holly. Look at this and tell me if I’m reading it right.”

Holly took the card. “Oh, my. Mom. We have an apartment. Six months, paid in full. It’s up to us to keep it after that but we have six months paid complete with utilities. Time to get on our feet. Find jobs.” Her voice broke. “Go to school. Oh, Eric, what a wonderful gift.”

“One last gift.” Kellen held a card out. “This one is addressed to Miss Holly.”

Holly opened the card and stared, stunned into silence. Then she started crying; slow, graceful tears. She shoved the card toward her mother.
“College. Mom, I have two years at the local Jr. College paid in full. I have a future, if I want it.”

Kellen grinned, a cheeky grin, that always made Lucky’s teeth grind. “And do you want it?”

“More than anything in the world. Two years. That will open the world to me.”

The pounding of forks on the table came to Lucky’s ears. The crowd was getting hungry.

“We’ll talk after lunch. Right now, I need all hands on deck. Let’s serve this hungry horde.”

Lucky snagged Kellen’s arm on the way to the kitchen. “Where did those envelopes come from? I know every package under the tree. They weren’t there.”

He smiled down at her, the tips of his teeth showing faintly before retracting. “Let’s just say the Spider donated for the pain and damage he caused.”

Lucky considered his words, then shrugged. “Seems fitting, doesn’t it?”



Marcos, Holly, Eric, Lucky, and even Eileen pitched in to get the food out to the tables. At last everything was in place.
Lucky stood at the front of the great room. She held up her hands for silence.

“Before we eat, I’d like to give a blessing.”

One by one, heads bowed, voices stopped. Silence reigned.

Thank you, Lord, for these bountiful gifts. I give thanks for the sustenance you provide.

In clear, and ringing voice, Luciana Donovan recited the age old words of the Christmas blessing.