A Little Book of Big Christmas Tales

A Little Book of Big Christmas Tales is a collection of short stories by award winning author Anne Azel. The collection includes the tale of Charlie, a street thug; Penny, a First Nations "token" employee; Paula, a woman determined to get home to her newborn baby's first Christmas, to name a few. Anne also includes a story of her popular characters, Robbie and Janet. The connecting thread is Christmas. Each story is uniquely Anne - creative, touching, reflecting the variety and diversity found in Canadian women - and will stay with the reader long after the pages are turned. This book is one to give friends and family to keep close to one's heart. It can be enjoyed by anyone who believes, or needs to believe, in miracles and the strength of women surviving adn overcoming the trials of life.

A Christmas Story

And the angel said unto them, Fear not:

for, behold, I bring you good tidings

of great joy, which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born this day, in the

city of David a Saviour, which is

Christ the Lord.

~Luke 2:10-11

It's strange that words of faith will often come to you when all else fails. The blows now didn't hurt. Anna saw them as in a film — grainy and hard to distinguish — in slow motion, but without physical pain, just emotional anguish. She knew she was going to die here in the snow, with her Christmas shopping shattered around her, mixed with her own blood. The only thing left was trying to protect what was most important to her.

Her eyes caught the twinkle of a broken tree ornament reflected in a street light. It looked like a single star in the cold blackness that was closing around her.

When they saw the star, they

rejoiced with exceeding great joy.

And when they were come into the

house, they saw the young child with

Mary his mother, and fell down, and

worshipped him...

And being warned of God in a dream

that they should not return to Herod,

they departed into their own country

another way.

~Matthew 2:10-12

Charlie watched from the shadows of an alley. The gang was kicking the shit out of her. Her only crime was she was wearing the same coat as Charlie. Hood up against the snow, they hadn't realized that for the last few minutes they had been tailing the wrong person.

Charlie had thought herself out of options until she'd seen the woman in the same coat come out of a store and start down the street. All Charlie had to do was pull her own hood up, get close to

the woman, and then disappear into an alley. The street rats had fallen for the switch like the dumb asses they were.

A police siren wailed in the distance, and like rats from a ship, the dark figures ran, leaving a trodden scar in the snow. Charlie waited to see if they would come back. Snow formed a new layer of skin over the scar. Nothing.

Charlie moved from the alleyway and crossed the nearly empty parking lot. It wouldn't hurt to go through her purse to see if she had any cash. Charlie looked around, picked up the purse and turned to go. A muffled wail froze her to the spot. She looked at the beaten woman, her blood frozen to the side of her mouth. She looked dead.

The faint wail came again. Charlie frowned, looked around once more, and then knelt by the body. She used her hands as a shovel to roll the woman over. Beneath her was a baby. The damn woman hadn't fought back because she was protecting her baby beneath her.

And when ye stand praying, forgive,

If ye have ought against any: that your

Father also which is in heaven may

forgive you your trespasses.

-Mark 11:25

Charlie poked the small bundle, and the faint wail came again. When the woman moved slightly, her hand tightening around her baby, Charlie jumped in surprise, and looked into a battered face. "P-please, save her. You can. Please," the woman whispered, through lips cracked and bleeding.

Charlie stared. There was nothing to say. She'd saved her own hide by going another way. She hadn't known about the baby. Bad things happen.

"Please," the woman begged again.

"That your car?" Charlie asked.

"Y-yes, t-the Ford," the woman managed to say through chattering teeth.

"Gimme the keys," Charlie demanded.

The woman tried to move, but pain lanced her face. "C-can't move my arm. T-they're in my pocket. Please, please help. D-don't let her die. Her name's C-Chelsey. C-Chelsey Hilman."

"Shut up," Charlie responded, digging in the woman's pocket. She pulled out a small Bible and tossed it aside, reached her hand

In again, and came out with the car keys. She picked up the purse and unlocked the car, tossing the bag in on the passenger's seat.

Then she went back and bent to take the kid. The woman held on. "Let go."

"W-where are you t-taking her?" the woman asked, her voice wobbly with the cold and shock. The figure leaning over her was blurred into three. The street light, a yellow ball behind, cast the stranger's features into darkness.

"I'll leave her at the hospital," Charlie snapped, pulling the child from the battered woman, and carrying her at arms length to the car. She placed her on the floor on the passenger's side so she didn't fall off the seat. Charlie had a vague idea that kids could be squirmy. She didn't want to be caught with no dead kid.

Charlie didn't have a license, but she had driven vehicles since she was a teen, hot-wiring them, and driving them around to the nearest chop shop to sell for parts. She got in, closed the door and turned the key. The engine started right away. Cold air blasted from the heater. The baby gave a little wail again.

Charlie looked out the window. The woman was lying still, her eyes open and staring back, tears now frozen on her face. Charlie's breath frosted the window over, and she turned away to put the car in gear. The car had barely moved forward, when Charlie braked, put the car in park, and got out to walk back to the figure in the snow.

This is my commandment,

That ye love one another, as I have

loved you.

~John 15:12

"Don't you fucking well die on me. You got that," Charlie ordered, grabbing the woman under the shoulders and dragging her to the car. The woman didn't answer, her scream of pain muffled by the bloodied hood that had fallen over her face.

Charlie read about her in the paper the next day. How she and the baby were found in a car outside the Emergency door. Charlie had painstakingly read the words one by one, moving her finger along and sounding the words with her lips, as she sat over a coffee in a cafe. The two of them were in bad shape, but they were going to make it. Good. Charlie turned to the racing results.

...Ye are they which justify

yourselves before men; but

God knoweth your hearts...

~Luke 16:15

It was several days later, when Charlie showed up at the hospital, holding some cut flowers that she had carried carefully on the subway. Charlie didn't like hospitals, and she wasn't sure why she had come, other than she hadn't known the woman had a baby. That bothered her. Adults took their chances in life. Sometimes bad things happen, but she didn't pick on kids. She went over to the old woman who was a volunteer at the information desk. "What room is Anna Hilman in?"

"Reverend Hilman? Wasn't that awful what happened to her? Room 486, dear," the woman said, after consulting her computer screen for some time.

"Yeah, a real shame," Charlie responded, without any emotion. She took the elevator up, nervously swaying back and forth on her heels. She didn't like to feel closed in.

Once on the right floor, Charlie worked her way down the hall until she found the room. There were four beds inside, but only two were occupied. The first held an old woman sleeping. Her head was back and her mouth open, and Charlie could see she didn't have any teeth. Her cheeks flapped each time she exhaled in a gruff snore.

The next bed seemed to be wired for sound. Bottles hung from poles and monitors bleeped. Charlie went over and stood at the foot of the bed, surprised to see dark green eyes fixed on her through swollen slits. "Don't that snoring bother you?" Charlie asked.

"It would bother me a lot more if she suddenly stopped," Anna responded, her words not too clear for her jaw was stiff and swollen. "You're the woman who saved Chelsey and me."

Charlie frowned. "Brought you some flowers," she answered, tossing the bouquet on the bed.

"Thanks. Thanks for everything. You saved—"

"I set you up. They were after me," Charlie cut in abruptly. "We got the same coat, you and me. I watched them kick the shit out of you. The paper said you are only alive 'cause the coat protected you. I just wanted you to know, I didn't see that you had that kid with you." That said and off her conscience, Charlie turned to leave.

"Wait!" Anna called.

Charlie turned.

"You owe me. That was a really rotten thing you did," Anna managed to get out with as much of a growl as she could muster.

"Bad things happen, lady. Get used to it," Charlie shot back.

"You owe me," Anna repeated stubbornly.

Charlie came back and stood by the bed. "So what do you want from me?" she asked angrily.

Anna had no idea what she wanted. She just knew that there was something about this woman that was important to her life. It was a feeling. She looked at the lean, tall figure standing by her bed. She was not so much beautiful as she was handsome, with strong classic bones and a well toned body. She was also trouble. That was written all over her.

Then said Jesus unto him,

Except ye see signs and wonders,

ye will not believe.

~John 4:48

"I'm new in this city and don't know anyone. I've been in Africa, working. I came back last month because my brother and his wife were killed in a car crash, and there was no one to take care of my niece," Anna explained, fighting to keep her emotions under control. "This is going to be Chelsey's first Christmas, and you're going to help me make it special."

"Are you crazy? She's a baby. She's not going to remember," Charlie said in anger.

"I'll remember," Anna responded stubbornly. "You owe me."

"I owe you shit!" Charlie snarled, but she didn't storm out like she knew she should have. This Anna was alright. She hadn't judged or got angry; she had just stood her ground and demanded compensation for a wrong. The lady had guts.

"I haven't got no place for you two. Besides, I'm bad news. You don't know me," Charlie said, honestly, but mostly in the hopes of getting the woman to change her mind.

"I have my sister and husband's house until Chelsey turns twenty-one. You can stay with us and help me make it a good Christmas for her."

"I'm bad news, lady," Charlie explained again, slowly so the woman would get it.

"You're a gang member, I imagine. While you're staying at our house, you will not break any laws or see your gang members."

"What? You're nuts. And I wouldn't be helping you; I'd have to take care of both of you."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes. You owe me," Anna said, drawing the line in the sand. Her eyes closed for a second against the pain. Give me strength, Father.

For the Son of man is come to seek and

to save that which was lost.

~Luke 19:10

"Just 'til Christmas is over, and no trying to change me or nothin'," Charlie said, a bit confused as to just how she'd ended up accepting this arrangement. Anna smiled, too tired now to answer or even keep her eyes open. She opened her hand and the dark stranger hesitated, then took the smaller hand in her own. It was a new beginning.

Glory to God in the highest, and on

earth peace, good will toward men.

-Luke 2:14

The Christmas Tree

Penny LeFleur hated her new job. It wasn't a matter of the mild depression that workers often feel, or even the frustrations of a dead end job. It was hate.

She had come to the big company filled with anticipation and nervous excitement. It was the beginning of a new life for her. This was the world that the poverty and brutality of her childhood had always denied her. All of Penny's life, she'd felt like she only looked in. Now she was going to belong.

But she hadn't, of course. The new outfits that she so carefully picked out at the discount store looked cheap and informal next to the expensive silk and linen suits of the other office workers. Right from the first day, it was clear to her that she was simply a token so the company could show that they provided equal opportunities to all.

"This is Penny LeFleur, she's the trainee that social services sent us," the personnel manager, Gail Collins, had announced to everyone as a way of introduction.

Bill Knechtel even came out and asked her at the coffee machine one morning, "What are you?"

Penny had looked up startled. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know you're a visible minority and a poor person that social services retrained, but what are you?"

Penny had gritted her teeth and managed to answer nicely. Bill might have been blunt and rude but at least he was taking an honest interest. That was better than those who whispered behind her back or treated her with the sympathy one reserved for rabid animals or experimental rats. "I'm a Canadian. My mother was Cree and my father a French Canadian."

Bill had nodded and was satisfied.

Alice Beetlie was much worse. She hid her need for gossip behind a facade of concern. "Oh you poor girl. It's so wonderful that you're with us now. I want you to know that everyone here wants to help you succeed. Is it true your mother was a prostitute? How awful for you. I so admire you for having escaped a horrible childhood and making something of yourself. You're such a good role model for the poor. So many nowadays feel we should just support them on welfare. They're just lazy and have no pride."

Don't lose your temper you need this job, Penny had warned herself. "My father committed suicide because he lost his job and

couldn't find work. My mom worked the streets to take care of me. She did the best she could for me."

"I thought you were raised in homes?" Alice asked.

"My mother was beaten to death when I was twelve. Then I became a ward of the city."

This news got around the office before lunch. A new record by all accounts.

Penny worked as a gofer. She worked as Sean Rutley's assistant. Rutley was the administrative assistant to Kimberly Dawson of Dawson Fashions. Penny's job was to make coffee, clean up after meetings in the conference room, run things off on the copier, and do a hundred other jobs that Sean felt were below his dignity.

Kimberly Dawson had only acknowledged her once. Beautiful, talented, and openly gay, Kim was always on the go. Penny, considerably shorter than her famous boss, had been almost knocked flat when Kim suddenly changed her direction while storming down the hall. "Sorry, Penny," she'd said, reaching a strong hand out to stabilize her employee before charging off.

Penny stood in the hall blinking, watching the tall blonde's slim figure striding confidently down the hall. Her shock was not caused by the sudden collision, but because Kimberly Dawson actually knew her name.

It was late November, some three months after the hall crash, when Penny's life once again collided with Kimberly Dawson's. She was standing beside Sean's desk finding out from him what "you are in charge of the Christmas decorations and celebration" entailed, when the outer door crashed open and Kimberly strode across the office to disappear into her own private sanctum, leaving the door open.

"Did you get me an escort for tonight?" she asked from within.

Sean cringed and spoke in the direction of Kim's office doorway. "Sorry, Kim, I phoned several of the model agencies and they're all booked up for the winter season. I tried a number of escort services that we've used in the past and no luck either. There are four different conferences in town they tell me. I could get you a guy-"

Kim appeared at the door. "Unless he's a cross dresser he's going to look damn silly in one of my designs." It was at this point her eyes turned to look at Penny. "She'll do. If it's no problem, you're going to be working late tonight, Penny." Kim looked back at Sean. "She's a bit short, but we can manage. She has a good, slim build, and nice cheek bones, but she's going to need a lot of work.

Take her downstairs for a make over. I need her for seven." With that she was gone.

Sean turned around and looked at Penny's bewildered face. "Are you busy tonight, Cinderella? Because if you're not, you're about to wear the glass slippers."

"What? Wait. I can't go out with her. I mean I've never...and she's my boss."

Sean had already taken her firmly by the arm and was herding her out of the office. "Let's pretend you've expressed all your insecurities and anger at being railroaded into this, and I've won you over with my incredible charm. I simply haven't got time to argue. I have exactly three hours to make you into a princess."

It took the three hours but the result was stunning. With her black hair straight and silky to just below her shoulders and a black evening dress by Dawson Designs, Penny looked as good as any of the models the company employed.

Sean was positively beaming when he presented her to Kim-berly. "Look what I did. Just look at what I did. Isn't she beautiful?"

Penny was just at the point of smacking the little turd when Kim spoke up. "Penny, you look beautiful, as I knew you would. Sean, thank you for you help and good night."

Sean left, rolling his eyes. Penny stood there rather awkwardly as Kimberly slipped a navy tuxedo jacket over her cream silk shirt and long skirt that was cut up to her knee. "I appreciate you doing this, Penny. We're going to the opening of the new music hall. Dawson Fashions made a sizable donation to the fund raising efforts."

"I'm not sure what I'm to do. I've never been to anything like this before."

"Walk straight and gracefully, which you tend to do naturally, and stand at my left at all times. I'm slightly deaf in that ear from an accident and so I don't like people coming up to me on that side. If anyone asks you a question, simply smile and refer them to me or make some totally meaningless response. The limo is waiting. Shall we?"

Penny trotted dutifully along at the left side of her boss. They stood side by side in the elevator, listening to the canned music and watching the floor lights blink their way down to the lobby. Kim made no attempt to talk and Penny followed her lead.

They arrived in front of the theatre to a blaze of lights and photo flashes. The doorman helped each of them out and they walked side by side into the theatre.

The show seemed secondary. Kim worked the crowd of the famous and rich on her way to the members only bar and there continued to work the floor, establishing contacts and encouraging interests in her designs as she went. Penny stayed at her left side smiling like the Mona Lisa until her jaws ached.

Kim introduced her simply as: "Penny, part of my team". Penny managed to get by using three main phrases. "It's a pleasure to be representing Dawson Designs here", was one. "Isn't it a lovely theatre?" another. And, "I'm sure Ms. Dawson would be in a better position to answer that", was her response of last resort.

Only when the lights blinked a second time did Kim lead the way to her private box. To Penny's surprise and delight, wine and fancy sandwiches sat on a small round table between the two comfortable chairs. Kim poured the wine just before the lights dimmed and for an hour they sat in silence and listened to the beauty of a full, and well trained, orchestra and choir performing Handel's Messiah.

At intermission, Kim turned to Penny showing interest for the first time. "You enjoyed the music?"

Penny swallowed hard. "I've never heard anything so beautiful. This is the first time I've ever been in a theatre."

Kim smiled. "Then we have something in common," she joked, "this is my first time in this theatre too. Are you enjoying your job?"

Penny looked into deep blue eyes. There was no emotion or warmth there, just polite concern. "No, I hate it."

The glass Kim was raising to her lips lowered again. She blinked in surprise. "What?"

"I hate it. I suppose I should be grateful that I didn't have to job hunt, and that I got in with such a large and successful company with good pay and benefits, but I dislike intensely being the company token. I can type and I've worked hard to improve my vocabulary and grammar. I can use the software programs your company employs, and I'm prepared to work hard. That's what should matter, not that I have First Nations blood and grew up on the streets."

Kim said nothing for a few seconds but looked at Penny with hard, thoughtful eyes. She put her glass down on the table. "And what is your current assignment?"

Penny's eyes sparked. "Christmas decorations and deaf boss escorting."

Kim laughed. If she meant to respond the dimming of the lights prevented it.

They left the theatre a little before eleven and Kim instructed the chauffer to drive to Penny's apartment. The limo looked strangely out of place as it made its way through a rough part of town on its way to a neighbourhood of respectable, but struggling, households.

"I know this was business but I want to thank you for tonight. I loved it. Once I get on my feet a bit, I think I'll buy tickets and go again. Tonight opened a whole new w— Stop! Stop the car!"

The limo jerked suddenly to a stop and Penny bounded from the back seat and out on to the dimly lit street. Much to Kim's shock her employee ran down the street and jumped on the back of some Joe who appeared to be arguing violently with a prostitute on the corner. "Call for help," Kim ordered and bounded from the car in her turn.

The street walker made a run for it when she saw Kim coming and the Joe had Penny by the hair, trying to pull her off. As Kim ran down the street she saw the guy smash an elbow into Penny's face and pull her over his shoulder to the ground. God knows what would have happened next, but Kim arrived and let him have it in the face with pepper spray. With relief, Kim became aware of the wail of sirens heading in their direction.

It was three in the morning when the police had finished with them and booked a wanted murderer and rapist, thanks to Penny's and Kim's help. Kim took Penny by the arm and led her out to the limo, giving the driver her own address.

"I need to go home," Penny protested nasally.

"Ms. LeFleur. It's nearly dawn. I'm hungry, tired, and have helped in the capture of a villain. One of my employees has been manhandled and hurt, and worse still, I'm sitting beside a ten thousand dollar dress of my own creation that is torn, dirty, and blood splattered. Humour me. I've had a rough night."

Penny felt any reserve of strength she once had drop through the bottom of her gut. "Ten thousand dollars?" she got out in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry."

Dawson lived in the penthouse of a luxury apartment overlooking a green belt in the heart of the city. Kim showed Penny into a beautiful guest room. "The bath is through there and you'll find sleeping apparel and toiletry items in the drawers. I'll leave tea and a light snack by your bed. I think a few hours sleep is in order. Are you

sure you don't need to see a doctor? You have black eyes, and a swollen nose and lip."

"No, I'm okay, thanks. He just gave me a bloody nose. It's not broken. About the dress—"

"Forget the dress, Penny. A dress can be replaced, a life can't. Did you know that woman?"

"Yes."

"That's not what you told the police."

"No."

Kim looked angry. "For a friend, she sure left you in a deadly situation."

Penny looked defiant. "She heard the police siren and was scared."

Kim nodded. "I'm glad you weren't hurt badly. We'll try to get to work by noon tomorrow. Sleep well."

"Kimberly? Thank you. You probably saved my life."

"Probably. Perhaps you should consider carrying pepper spray if you insist on being a heroine." Kim turned and left to see to the tea, and Penny, confused by the changing moods of her employer, went to soak gratefully in a bath.

The story about the night of the concert was hot gossip for weeks. From what Penny could ascertain from the whispers and guarded questions, the employees were scandalized that she had endangered Kim's life by pulling her into the seamy world of Penny's childhood. When word got out about the dress, they couldn't understand why she had not been fired.

Neither could Penny for that matter. She'd tried to make arrangement for a payroll deduction to pay off the cost of the dress in instalments. The request had been turned down by the payroll department at Kim's order.

Then there was the matter of the tree. Penny had dutifully gone down to the maintenance department and checked out the pathetic little Christmas tree that was usually left on a table in the lobby. Years of use had left it looking a rather sorry item. Sean had given her a budget of twelve hundred dollars. It was not for decorations but to cover costs of refreshments for the staff meeting just before the holidays. He had said, however, that she could use her discretion. Her jaw set in a determined line. She'd been put in charge of Christmas and she planned on doing it right.

She started by contacting the downtown mission. They laughed heartily at her request but had agreed. That night, she had, with the help of the maintenance department, dragged a ten

foot Christmas tree Into the lobby and set It up. It wasn't real of course, but it was as close as Penny could find, and she decorated it with small lights so that it shone magically.

Reg and the other two night maintenance workers stood back and looked at their efforts with satisfaction. "It's a mighty fine tree, Penny, but it's a bit bare. Don't you have any tinsel or balls?"

Penny smiled. "No, we are going to decorate it with love."

Reg chuckled and patted her on her shoulder. "Not in this company you're not. These are business people working in a cut throat business."

Standing alone in the lobby taping up the signs she'd made, Penny had to admit that she felt less than optimistic about her decision. She sighed; she might be fired but at least she could feel that she had done the right thing.

As people walked into work the next day, they stopped dead and stared at Penny's empty Christmas tree and the three signs that she had posted.

The first read:

The Three Best Gifts

The three best gifts are peace, harmony, and love. Show you care by placing a pair of gloves, socks, a hat, or scarf on our tree. These will be given to the mission to hand out to the needy this winter. Help warm someone's hands and heart.

The second sign was a poem that Penny had written.

Coloured Mittens

We are all different,

Like coloured mittens.

Each of us woven

From a different

Fabric.

Some are fancy, some

Poor,

Some are pretty and some are

Worn.

We are like coloured mittens, Each of us different,

Yet inside each mitten We all are the same.

The world is a small village. Reach out to your neighbours.

The last sign read:

The Downtown Mission wants to thank you all for your gift of a thousand dollars. They will be providing soup, bread, and tea for you at our December staff meeting.

Sean burst into the office to find Penny at her computer updating files. "What have you done? What have you done? Have you been downstairs? A crowd has formed in the lobby. I think we're going to have a riot. Kim came in and took one look at the tree and walked out again. She didn't say one word. Not one. I'll be fired too. I'll be out of a job and won't be able to pay off my credit card in the new year. I'll end up in jail."

Penny frowned at Kim's excitable administrative assistant, got up, and followed him down the hall to the balcony that overlooked the main lobby. Sure enough a crowd of employees was standing there murmuring softly and pointing to the bare tree and the signs. Penny licked her lips nervously. This did not look good.

Suddenly, Kim came through the front door. The crowd parted and let her through, waiting to follow her lead. She opened up a plastic bag she carried and carefully hung three pair of woolly gloves in red, green, and gold on the tree. As she turned, she saw Penny up on the balcony and their eyes met. "Well done, Penny," she said, and raised her hands and clapped.

Slowly, the whole group joined in and Penny blushed and smiled awkwardly.

The night of Christmas Eve, Penny stayed behind to take down the Christmas tree. It was now beautifully covered in bright patterns and colours of hats, gloves, socks, and scarves. The staff had eagerly come in each morning to add something to the tree or to see what had already been hung up. They lingered a few minutes and talked as friends, sharing jokes and smiles. The tension of the holiday season seemed to melt away when they saw their own special Christmas tree.

Penny smiled and carefully placed each item into the cardboard box that she would take to the mission that night. She stood on her tip toes and stretched to reach a hat. A long slim hand got there before her and lifted the item off the tree to give to her. It belonged to Kimberly Dawson.

"Merry Christmas." Penny blushed.

"Merry Christmas, Penny, and thank you for your efforts." Kim smiled down at her.

Penny licked her lips nervously. "Just doing my job."

Kim chuckled. "Ahh, yes, Christmas decorations and deaf boss escorting. Do you still do the latter?"

Penny looked up with startled eyes that suddenly sparked mischievously. "Not since the wild Cinderella wrecked the Fairy God Mother's ten thousand dollar evening dress."

They both laughed and then went quiet. A certain tension and awkwardness suddenly surrounded them. Kim looked into chocolate brown eyes sparkling with light. Slowly, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against Penny's. The sweet gentleness of the kiss and the hot strength of Kim's body so close to her own left Penny feeling weak-kneed.

"It's very inappropriate for the owner of the company to date an employee. I want you to know that you can turn me down and it will in no way change your position here at Dawson Designs. I want to see more of you, Penny...outside of work. Are you free tonight?"

Penny's voice sounded small and weak with emotion. "I...I'm taking this stuff over to the mission and then helping out tonight and tomorrow. They're always short staffed Christmas Eve and Day." Kim looked very vulnerable and lonely, and Penny gathered her courage and went on. "You could come...I mean...if you are not busy."

Kim smiled. "I think I'd enjoy that very much." Together, they worked to take down the tree and to build the first bridge to a new future.

Christmas Boxes

Sean Rutley had decided to quit his job. This was a first. He usually fretted every time there was a crisis at Dawson Fashions that he'd be fired and end up in jail because he couldn't pay off his charge card. But for the last three weeks Kimberly Dawson, the owner and genius of the company, had been such a bitch that jail now seemed a happy alternative.

The door to Kim's office slammed open and Kim stormed out. "Get Collins, Knechtel, and Beetlie and send them down to design. We've got another fucking mess to sort out."

Sean stood. "I quit."

Kim froze half way across the room. She turned and walked back to Sean's desk with casual confidence and smiled. "Let me explain something to you, Sean. If you walk out on me now, I'll phone Visa and tell them you're in debt up to your eyeballs."

"I don't care. I can't go on like this. You're driving me nuts."

Kim blinked. Sean was serious. "Come into my office."

Reluctantly, Sean followed Kimberly into her inner sanctum wondering if he'd ever see the light of day again.

"Sit. Okay, just what is the matter?"

"You've changed from your normal tyrannical self into a bitch-on-a-stick." Sean braced himself waiting for the explosion.