Read Once Upon a December: A Holiday Short Story Collection for Free Online Page B

snow and wind.
    “Where are his parents?” she asks quietly.
    “I don't know.”
    “We have to do something. We can’t just leave him here.”
    “I know, sweetheart. I tried to get him to come home with us, but he just keeps saying he has to wait for his mom and dad.”
    “How long has he been waiting?”
    “I don't know.”
    There’s something really beautiful about my wife, and it is a quality that a lot of people never have the chance to witness. There is a certain look in her eyes and a particular expression on her face that lets you know she's made a decision, and you’re an idiot if you even try to stand in her way. I have seen her work her magic on stubborn clients, deadbeat dads, and arrogant attorneys.
    This kid doesn't stand a chance.
    Megan drops to her knees in front of the little boy, right there on the dirty ground.
    “Luke, I just made some homemade chili. Do you like chili?”
    He nods quickly.
    “I also made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Justin loves them, and I always make a bunch extra. Do you like peanut butter and jelly?”
    Luke licks his lips, and my heart breaks.
    “Why don't you come home with us? You can help Justin eat his sandwiches, and later, we'll try to find your parents.”
    I can see the indecision on his little face. He doesn’t want to say no. That’s another incredible thing about my wife. Telling her no is virtually impossible.
    “My mom told me to stay here.”
    “But it's so cold, Luke,” Megan murmurs, her voice breaking with emotion.
    “I'll be okay.”
    Megan lowers her head, and for just a second, I worry that even my amazing wife has met her match. But then I hear her quiet sniffles, and Luke's face falls when he realizes she’s crying.
    He steps closer to her. “Why are you crying, Megan?”
    She lifts her head and gazes into the little boy's eyes.
    “Because I'm going to worry about you tonight. I'm afraid you'll be hungry and cold.”
    “Please don't cry.”
    I hold my breath as he reaches for her, pressing his dirty little hand against her face. Megan doesn’t even flinch.
    “I'll go home with you, Megan. Please don't cry.” Luke then looks up at me. “Can I bring my drum?”
    “Of course you can.”
    Megan sighs with relief and rises to her feet. With a smile as bright as the stars, the little boy takes my wife's hand. She takes mine, and the three of us walk out of the cold alleyway.
     

     
    After devouring a big bowl of chili and a peanut butter sandwich, Luke is now freshly bathed and wrapped in a terrycloth robe. His head rests in Megan's lap while she reads to him from a book of fairytales as they sit in the front of the fire.
    I don’t ask where she found the storybook.
    I don't have to.
    Mesmerized, I sit across the room and watch as her fingers fluff his hair. The dirt and grime had given way to a head full of shocking blonde hair. His eyes are closed but his smile is bright as he listens to Megan's gentle voice. The Christmas tree glows in the corner of the room, and if I live to be a hundred years old, I will never forget the look on Luke's face when he first laid eyes on our tree. To me, it’s just an ordinary tree. Beautiful, definitely, but just a regular tree. I've seen a thousand of them in my lifetime. But to that little boy, it was like seeing the sun for the first time. He hadn't taken his eyes off it throughout dinner, prompting Megan to finally place everything on trays and carry them into the living room so we could sit around the tree while we ate. After dinner, Megan had helped him take the longest bubble bath in the history of the world while I made some calls. The first was to my sister, Mackensey, who is the retail manager of one of the children’s department stores in town. The next call was to David, my friend and an investigator with the Minneapolis PD.
    Only one of those calls had proven successful.
    Mackensey had arrived an hour later with enough clothes to dress a pint-sized army. David, however, was a