Devin

He probably should not have lied to Claire about where he was that Friday morning. After his meeting, he remembered that today was the final deadline for turning in gifts to the assistance agency for the Helping Star tree. So, he had caught an early flight home Thursday night and decided to do some shopping Friday morning.

At Mason’s General Store, he stared so hard at the plethora of art supplies that he didn’t hear a woman asking him if he needed help.

At first, he thought it might have been the clerk who had been eyeballing him and Claire when they were kissing. But then when he really looked, he saw another customer—a very pretty, petite woman with a toddler sitting inside the shopping cart looking at a book, and a baby feeding while snuggled up inside one those hippie-looking baby carrier things. He didn’t know what they were called.

“Maggie!” Devin tried not to crush the baby while giving his younger foster sister a hug.

She smiled. “How’s my Little Devvy?”

“I’m still older than you, remember? Good grief, are you still calling me that?”

“Aw, sorry, bro. Emma, look! It’s your uncle Devin!”

Devin nodded and tipped his hat at the little girl. “Ma’am.”

She looked up and said, “Are you a real cowboy?”

“I used to be, until your Auntie Wynn decided to be a real b—”

Maggie laughed and cut him off. “Good story. Seriously, Dev.”

Emma said, “I’m getting a cow for Christmas, you can come play cowboy at my house!”

Dev looked at his sister. “A cow? Way to spoil the kid, Maggie.”

His sister rolled her eyes. “Not exactly, we’re expanding into grass-fed beef. It’s been a long process, but we’re finally ready. We told Emma she could name one of them. Just don’t tell her what happens in the end, OK? But seriously, you should come and check it out once they get here. We’d love a few pointers on raising cattle. It’s not a huge herd of cattle like WX Genetics, but it’s respectable.”

He agreed just to get his sister to stop talking.

“What are you doing here?” Maggie asked. “I thought you were supposed to be working up at the office now?”

He shook his head but couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Wynn was one flavor of sister, but Maggie always could win him over. “Yes, I suppose all my sisters are policing me now.”

She laughed, “Yeah, I know Wynn’s got you over a barrel, doesn’t she? That’s just her way with men, I guess. Anyway, why are you looking for art supplies and what have you done with the body of my big brother?”

He took out the crumpled paper star from his pocket and showed it to her. “Giving Tree stuff. This girl wants art supplies and I want to give her the best, but I don’t know what is the best and what is garbage. You know, like those brushes where the hairs fall out.”

Maggie looked elated. Whenever she got that look, there was no stopping the train of thought. It had left the station and was barreling over the mountain at 100 mph and everybody better just get their shit out of the way.

The next second, she was filling his cart with the best brushes, paints, paper and other accessories that the store carried. Devin assumed they were the best; he wouldn’t know a watercolor from a charcoal pencil, so he had no choice but to go along with it.

“That should get the kid started, and here…” She adjusted the baby at her breast and switched him to the other breast. “Here, reach into my bag, will you?”

“No way I’m doing that.”

“Dude, what do you think I carry in my bag? Snakes? Get on in there and grab the little mini accordion file thingy, it’s blue. “

He felt like he could not say no to a woman who was working on getting a crying infant attached to her breast in the middle of the General Store, so he did as she asked.

He opened it and pulled out a piece of card stock with calligraphy on it and fancy flowery borders. It read, “Good for __ art classes at the Rock Barn at Morning Glory Farms,” and it gave the address.

She said, “I’m starting an after-school program, mixed ages. Like a one-room schoolhouse situation. Kids will come and do homework, run around the farm, ride a horse, learn about animals, do chores if they choose to, or just hang out. And art lessons are included. Go ahead and write ten classes on there and her mom or dad can decide if they want to do it as part of an after-school program or with regular classes on weekends. Next summer I’m going to do a summer camp too, if I can get help. She can pick whatever ten classes and mix them however she wants.”

“That’s incredible! Thank you, little sis. I gotta run over to the outfitters and sporting goods store. This other kid wants freeze-dried meals.”

She nodded. “You might have to hit Gander Mountain in Mount Pleasant for that. Jackson has to go there to get any half-decent camping supplies. You have a long day ahead of you.”

She made sure he had her number if he had any other questions about the art supplies, which he wouldn’t, because he didn’t currently have a phone and did not want one. But he did have a favor to ask her.

When he asked it, she was almost overjoyed to say yes. “Dev, I’m so happy for you, I would be insulted if you didn’t ask me to do this for you.”

Now it’s all settled.

They said their goodbyes and he found himself agreeing to stop by on Christmas Eve for dinner.

Devin made it to Mount Pleasant and back with freeze-dried meals, a bug-out bag and everything else on the 13-year-old’s list, including some extra-warm camping socks and a thermos, just for kicks. Why not? With all the money he was spending, he had the store’s seasonal gift-wrapper on site wrap up everything he had bought there as well as everything he had not bought there, and gave her a huge tip. As if he had a choice. If he tried to wrap anything it would end up looking like chimpanzee had been set free with paper, tape and bows, and then decided to chew on it and sit on it.

He supposed it was for people like him that God made gift bags. But there was still something special about opening wrapping paper. Call him sentimental, he liked looking at wrapped gifts under a tree. Gift bags under a tree just didn’t look right to him. And that was probably the fussiest thing about Devin Halpert.

He made one more stop while he was in Mount Pleasant. He went into a bookstore and got the nicest leather-bound blank journal and pen they had. Whoever was raising those three kids was doing something right, and he suspected he or she deserved a present as well. He inserted a gift card for gas and groceries. He hoped that wasn’t too presumptuous.

* * *

“I’m sorry, those gifts have all already been delivered.”

“But today is the deadline.”

“No, sir, it was yesterday,” said the woman behind the desk at the state emergency assistance agency.

He shrugged. “Well, give me the address and I’ll deliver it myself…” He checked her nameplate on her desk and added, “Margie?”

She shook her head. “I can’t give out that information, it’s confidential.”

“Why not, Margie?”

She looked at him like he was nuts. “Why? Because first of all I am a government employee and I am bound by law to protect personal information. Second, it’s a bit intrusive, don’t you think?”

Devin didn’t understand. “But, Margie, how are they going to get the gifts in time for Christmas?”

She stared at him across the desk. She looked like she was assessing him somehow. Then she raised an eyebrow. “Listen, you can keep repeating my name all you want. I’m going to go talk to my supervisor and see what we can do. I’ll be back in five minutes. That should give us both enough time for you to figure out what to do.”

He stared back at her, totally clueless. Then he realized she was pointedly looking at him and then down at her desk. “Five minutes, Mr. Halpert.”

When she stood to walk away, he leaned over the desk and peeked at the address, committing it to memory.

It wasn’t until he got to his truck that he realized the address was familiar.

Holy shit. That’s Claire’s house.