A Christmas Home: A Novel (22 page)

Doc Pelot pointed to his young friend across the room. “We have decided to call our little enterprise the Todd McCray Foundation in honor of that good-looking feller in the red tennis shoes leaning against the wall with that black hound of his. All of you know that Todd has saved and enriched the lives of hundreds, maybe even thousands, of animals in this county. And because of that he has improved the lives of a whole lot of humans, too. That’s why
we’d like to name this endeavor after him. Susan, can you also explain what this foundation will do?”

Susan Reeves stepped in front of her two elderly clients. “Doc Pelot has donated the five acres where his old vet clinic sits out by the highway. Hank Fisher has donated the first forty thousand dollars toward the construction of a brand-new animal shelter to be owned and operated by the foundation. We’re going to need to raise more, but that’s an excellent start.”

“There are a few more pieces you need to know about,” Hank said.

“We need two hundred thousand dollars, so we’ve got a ways to go. I know it’s a lot for this community to raise, and it’ll take some time. That said, we’ve raised more money for other things in the past, and I think we can do it again.”

There were excited whispers and more applause from the small gathering.

It suddenly got quiet, and Todd realized that many guests were looking his way. He wasn’t exactly sure what all of this meant, but he knew that some very special gifts had just been given, and that finally there was good news for the shelter. He looked out across the room at the many people he had come to know and love. Like his father taught him, he kept it simple. “Thank you very much.”

George and Mary Ann stepped beside him and each put an arm around the young man they loved so much. Mary Ann leaned over and kissed Todd on the cheek. Hayley, Laura, and Gracie worked their way to the front of the room
and stood next to Doc Pelot. Todd bent down and accepted a canine kiss of gratitude from Gracie.

With tears in her eyes, Hayley said, “Todd, we’re all so proud of you.”

Doc Pelot continued, “Like I said, I’m donating the ground, and, as Laura Jordan and Hank have discussed, we always felt like the shelter should have some kind of a monument or sign in front of it that will speak to our mission. Laura talked her father into helping us out.”

It was Laura’s turn. With her left hand resting on Hank’s shoulder and her right clasping the support bar on Gracie’s vest, she spoke to the guests. “My dad spent all day yesterday in his woodworking shop. My family would like to donate a sign for our new shelter. It could be located out in the yard of Doc’s old vet clinic, right where you turn off the old highway, so people could see it.”

Laura’s father and George moved from the back of the room carrying the rectangular object still hidden beneath the big green blanket. A space was cleared so they could move close to Hank. Laura took the edge of the blanket in her hand and then offered it to Gracie. “Gracie! Tug!” she commanded. The dog gave the blanket a big yank. Everyone gasped upon seeing the carefully crafted and painted sign. It read:

Just to the right of Gandhi’s words was a drawing of a thermometer marked at ten-thousand-dollar increments. At the top the sign read
TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS—OUR GOAL
. The thermometer was filled in with red up to the “$40,000” mark.

When Laura started to choke up, her father finished for her. “It’s not too fancy, but it says all we need it to say.”

Doc Pelot made his pitch. He pointed to the red area on the sign. “As you can see, Hank has seeded the pot with forty thousand dollars.” After another brief round of applause, the old vet continued, “It’s a very generous start, but I want to encourage each of you to dig into your checkbooks and make a contribution when you can. Susan has agreed to act as our treasurer, so she can accept funds.”

George took Mary Ann’s hand and addressed the small crowd. “This is a wonderful surprise for our family. Whether or not Crossing Trails has an animal shelter may not seem that important to the bigger world out there, but to our community, and especially to Todd McCray, it is very important.” Then he cracked a broad grin. “In the meantime, if anyone is in dire need of a dog, I’ll get my coat on and show you what we’ve got out in the barn.”

TWO DAYS
later, on the morning of Christmas Eve, the McCray children and grandchildren started to arrive for the family’s own holiday event. The level of excitement slowly built as the day progressed. By two in the afternoon, Mary Ann wondered if the walls of their old farmhouse could contain so much energy.

“George, why don’t you take the kids outside to play until dinner is ready? I bet they would enjoy seeing what you’re keeping in the barn,” Mary Ann suggested loudly. Then she lowered her voice and said to her husband, “I can’t hear myself think!” As much as the senior McCrays adored their seven grandchildren, and even though they had raised five children of their own, they never failed to be astounded at the noise level of the next generation.

“Great idea.” George put on his hat and coat and called
into the living room, “I’m going outside to play. Anyone want to come with me?”

The grandchildren all began to scream excitedly and stampeded into the kitchen. “Yeah! We want to go.”

George pointed to the pile of coats, mittens, and scarves by the back door. “Put on your gear and I’ll meet you out by the barn.”

George and Christmas were both moving a little more slowly after a rambunctious morning with the kids. As George opened the old barn door and looked inside, he let out a very long breath as if to summon up more energy. He motioned to the children spilling out the back door of the house. “Come over here. I want to show you something.”

With the children behind him, George stepped into the barn. “We’re keeping some extra dogs here now, just until we can find them homes.” He showed each of the shelter dogs to the grandchildren. As he was conducting the tour, Todd passed through the barn door, ready to help. He had spent most of the day with Laura and had just arrived for the Christmas Eve meal.

For the McCray grandchildren, their uncle Todd was almost as interesting as the shelter dogs. They gathered around him, clamoring for hugs, and yelling, “Me! Me next!” He tickled, spun, and wrestled them to the ground. When they got back to the business of the barn tour, Todd took each dog out and provided a more private greeting.

With her usual impeccable timing, George and Mary
Ann’s only daughter, Hannah, was the next one through the barn door. She had driven down from a suburb of Kansas City. She too was greeted by an excited throng screaming and yelling, “Aunt Hannah!”

Once the grandchildren had gotten their hugs, they dispersed to play in the barn. George put one arm around Hannah and the other around Todd as they stood by the cages. Hannah had heard some of the details by phone from Mary Ann, but she was excited to get the scoop directly from Todd.

“I can’t believe they’re going to name the shelter foundation after my baby brother!” She squeezed him. “I’m so proud of you. I bet Laura is proud, too.”

Todd beamed. “She’s proud.”

“I hear the dairy offered you a spot. What are you going to do now that the shelter will reopen someday?”

Todd set his jaw in an expression that made George suspect that Todd was not ready to address his sister’s question. The tension in Todd’s jaw relaxed and he said, “I don’t know.”

George looked at Todd, somewhat surprised, and asked the next logical question. “If you don’t work at the dairy, what are you going to do?” George looked at the dwindling population of dogs. “Is the city going to continue to pay you to help operate the temporary shelter?”

Todd shook his head. “No. The mayor told Hayley that I should not count on that. They may be able to keep Hayley part-time for a little while longer to help you. That’s all the money they have for now.”

George tried to give Todd a little nudge. “So, Todd, why not take the dairy job until we get the shelter up and going again? It could easily take a year or two to raise that much money and construct a building. Maybe that would work out great. Just something for now?”

Todd looked away from his father and said, “Laura and I have to decide.”

George looked at his son curiously. Hannah took her father by the elbow, led him further down the aisle, and said, “He’ll work it out.” She reached down and lifted the latch to one of the cages. A little black terrier burst out of the cage. Hannah had to move quickly to grab him. “He’s so cute, Todd. What’s his name?”

“That’s Ranger.”

“Tell me about him!” Hannah demanded.

“He’s about two years old. He’s been neutered. He has a lot of energy.” He remembered a phrase that someone had used to describe dogs like Ranger and continued, “He’s strong-willed, but he’s not very good at caroling.”

“Caroling?”

George interrupted, “Don’t ask.”

Hannah held the little furry dog close to her. “He’s adorable.”

“We can make you a deal!” George offered.

Todd took Ranger from Hannah and gave him a hug. “It takes him about an hour to settle down, but then he’s great!”

Mary Ann pushed open the barn door. Hannah’s face
lit up with joy. She ran over to her mother and gave her a big hug.

Hannah’s enthusiasm for life was written all over her face, and Mary Ann’s face reflected it right back. She looked over her daughter’s shoulders at her husband, youngest son, and grandchildren. “Dinner is about ready. Why don’t you all come up to the house?” Mary Ann grabbed a couple of the older children and turned them toward the barn door. Every bit the schoolteacher, she had this routine down pat. “Run up to the house and leave your shoes on the back porch—hats, coats, and gloves in Todd’s old room.”

She looked back at Todd, who was putting the terrier back in his space. Mary Ann was having a hard time keeping track of five children, their spouses, and the seven grandchildren. Following the dog inventory was too much for her. “Remind me, Todd, is that Ranger?”

“Sure is, Mom.”

“Well, I’ve got good news for him. I just got a phone call from Peggy Hopkins. Ranger has a new home.” Todd looked surprised, so Mary Ann filled in the missing pieces for him. “I guess Frank Hopkins has been talking about him nonstop since Ranger burst into his house while the rest of you were caroling. Says he likes the dog’s grit—his ‘spunk,’ Peggy kept saying. She’s coming to pick him up tomorrow morning and give him to Frank for Christmas.”

Todd grinned and held Ranger close to him. “You’re going to have to learn to get along with that little poodle!”

With the children out in front of them, George and
Hannah followed behind. Mary Ann lingered a minute longer in the barn with her son. She glanced down the row of cages and asked Todd, “How do they like their new home?”

“They’d rather have real homes, but they’re okay for now.”

“You ready to eat?”

Todd took his mother’s hand. “Mom?” He then continued, “Do you mind if I ask Laura and her parents to come over tomorrow morning for Christmas brunch?”

“Of course not, Todd. If they don’t have other plans, we’d love for them to join us.”

“They don’t have other plans, ’cause I already asked them.”

Mary Ann shook her head. “Just as I thought. Did you tell them eleven o’clock?”

“I think so.”

“Well, make sure! We don’t want them to miss the meal.” Todd ran off ahead of his mother. She shut the barn door and started on the short walk back to the house for dinner. Unlike the interior of her home, the world outside was remarkably tranquil. She loitered for a few minutes, enjoying some solitude by the corral fence, beside the old weather vane that George and Bo McCray had built so many years before.

Mary Ann felt grateful for her farm, her family, and the time they would have together that evening. She leaned against the fence rail and appreciated the way the horizontal light from the setting sun illuminated the speckled
white-and-brown farmscape. Bits of summer grass, showing tints of buckskin and roan, poked stubbornly through the thin patches of snow, unwilling to yield to winter.

She pulled her jacket close around her and watched the sun sink on the horizon. Her horses were grazing in the meadow to the west. Little gray puffs of air came from their nostrils as they picked through the snow. She felt colder air push against her face and could hear the little propellers on the weather vane whirling even faster above her. The sun reflected off the belly of the miniature Cessna as the small plane spun around to a new direction.