I had just passed Starhurst High School and was turning onto
Lone Cottage Lane when the driver of the police cruiser, which had been dawdling
behind me for the past three blocks, suddenly turned on the cherry top. Blue
and red lights sliced through the chilly December night. The siren whooped once,
peremptorily.
“Godda—” Catching sight of the beatific smile of a giant
Baby Jesus cradled in the glowing, gas-inflated rubber nativity set sitting on
the snow-covered lawn of the corner house, I swallowed the rest of it. “Seriously?
You’ve got nothing better to do tonight?”
I pulled to the curb, fished out my license, and was
lowering the window as the uniformed officer approached my vehicle. His boots crunched
officially on the icy road. He shone his flashlight in my face.
“Do you know how fast you were going, sir?”
Great. Officer Rick Grant was the latest addition to the
Hayvenhurst police force and, in my humble opinion, Issac’s biggest mistake as
Police Chief so far.
“I’m working, Officer Grant. I’m tailing—” I was tailing
Nash Greenwald—who was now turning left on Hermitage Court. I watched Greenwald’s
red taillights disappear around the corner.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6hoWV769f9WCHdCitNMVtl6LwYRphEACHl2WjS6VolH23IBIQBUQ5xob0HIa3YFLBAyRDsViZQ4y7xMn_FVtIqH0vLuz8HPXqTuzcuxVL-WPUmlG6Hp2FXKwP1MvjRSvPpAVFEZMI1_hc/s320/shutterstock_49218283.jpg)
“Fifty in a school zone,” Grant informed me.
“But it’s eight o’clock at night! Plus, school is out for Christmas
vacation.”
Grant said, “Winter Break is the correct term. Not every citizen
celebrates Christmas.”
“Uh, okay, the point is I was only going a lousy five miles over the when-children-are-not-present
speed limit.”
Grant said stolidly, “License and registration, please.”
I stared up at him. “License and registration? You know who
I am. I live with your boss. You were at our house last Sunday for pot roast.”
Officer Grant was unmoved. I handed over my license and
registration.
A second pair of police boots crunched through the icy
gravel to join Grant. Issac said in his deep and easy voice, “It’s Christmas
Eve, Officer Grant. I think we can let Mr. Madison off with a warning tonight.”
“If you say so, Chief,” Grant replied in the tone of one who
knows we will all live to regret this lapse of sanity.
“I’ll have a private word with Mr. Madison,” Issac said.
“Thank you, sir.”
There was barely a quiver of a laugh in Issac’s voice as he said,
“I mean now, if you don't mind.”
“Oh. Yes, sir.” Grant flapped shut his ticket book and marched
back to the police cruiser.
“Riding shotgun tonight?” I asked.
Issac’s grin was wide and white in the moonlight. “Observing
my new recruit in action.”
“Your new recruit’s bucking for your job,” I told him as Issac
bent down to fill my car window.
He kissed me. “In forty years he can have it. When are you
getting home tonight?”
The kiss, quick as it was, made up for everything, from
Officer Grinch to Mr. Greenwald who was starting the New Year by breaking his
wife’s heart.
“I have to make one stop and then I’m on my way.”
I still had to pick up Little Whiskers, the Russian Blue kitten I
was giving Issac for Christmas. Well, probably for Christmas Eve, because I
couldn’t think of a way to hide this present that wouldn’t traumatize it for
life.
“I’ll pick up the milk,” Issac said. “Don’t worry about
that. You must be beat. It wasn't even four when you left this morning.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.”
I'd forgotten I was supposed to pick up milk. Over these wintery past months we’d developed a comfortable
little habit of catching up with each other every evening over a cup of brandy-spiked
cocoa. I don’t know what Philip Marlowe would have said about that, but I was
going to miss the hot cocoa once the weather started to warm.
Luckily, there were delicious warm weather beverages too.
Issac delivered another kiss and backed out of the car
window. He patted the side of my car. “Drive safely, Merle.”
“You too, Chief.” I glanced in my side mirror and he was looking back at me with a smile brighter than the Christmas star.
I just love these two. This is one of my favorites of your short stories. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteMe too! <3
DeleteI loved these two together. Thanks
ReplyDeleteThank you, Debby!
DeleteVery sweet and funny! I can just picture a series of humorous one-shots with Officer Grant developing into Merle’s nemesis and Isaac trying to rein them both in and make peace.
ReplyDeleteLOL That could be quite funny
DeleteAw how sweet. Thank you for the glimpse of Merle and Issac. I want some brandy-spiked cocoa.
ReplyDeleteI second that! ;)
DeleteChocolate goes really well with brandy!
DeleteAwww. :-) Thank you for this.
ReplyDeleteThank you, dear Johanna!
DeleteThanks for this, Josh. I laughed out loud about not being able to hide the kitten until Christmas morning in a way that wouldn't traumatize him for life. Too cute.
ReplyDelete:-) Thank you, Susan!
Delete" I couldn’t think of a way to hide this present that wouldn’t traumatize it for life."
ReplyDeleteLOL There's a lot of good stuff packed into this tiny story.
:-) :-) :-) Thanks, Teal!
DeleteAwww... this was lovely. Thank you, Josh! :-)
ReplyDeleteThis makes me want to go back an re-read.
That's one of my favorite shorts.
DeleteLove how you can convey so much with so few words. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Jackie!
DeleteI hope Merle remembers to tie a big bow around Little Whiskers. I have it on good authority that fluffy kitties love that. Merry Christmas Merle and Isaac.
ReplyDeleteLOL
Delete"Luckily, there were delicious warm weather beverages too."
ReplyDeleteNice line. I'm sure there's a great follow up there.
Thanks!
Ha. Life experiences!!!! :-D
DeleteLove Merle and Issac. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThank you! :-)
DeleteI love this. So. Much.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad!
DeleteAww, love this! Thank you for the glimpse of these two.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading!
DeletePicture me as one of those cartoon characters with hearts for eyes, chin on clasped hands, floating blissfully in the air...
ReplyDeletehahahahahaha
DeleteOh! Josh, I got my gorgeous yule log and it's thawing in the fridge! Hubby has been warned umpteen times not to toss anything on that shelf! Thank you again! That was awfully sweet of you.
ReplyDeleteThank God one of them arrived safely! The other arrived destroyed. :-(
DeleteOh, no! They're packed well. Sounds like someone got tired of handling packages "with care." That sucks.
DeleteCocoa, kittens, smiles.
ReplyDeleteI mean...Christmas, baby. :-D
DeleteLoved this! Now I want to reread The Boy Next Door. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you for this coda. Thank you for the advent calendar. Thanks to everyone who has contributed. Each and ever day has been wonderful, even if I haven't always had the chance to comment. Merry Christmas to all! <3
I'll save this one for later. I still haven't read this story. Thank you for all these writing treats you're sharing with us <3
ReplyDeleteGah I love these two! This short is fresh in my mind because you just released the audio version to lower Patreon tiers.
ReplyDeleteI love Merle's inability to swear and Issac still getting sick satisfaction in making Merle's work life difficult.
Also, kudos for not traumatizing the Little Whiskers for life. XD
Just lovely, Johs. Thank you!
ReplyDelete:) Very sweet.
ReplyDelete