“I need coffee,” I grumbled. It’d been nearly midnight before I got all the gifts wrapped and under the tree, and I would gladly have slept another couple hours.

“Mark’s making you coffee, so get up. Get up.”

Muttering, I tossed aside the covers and climbed out of bed. Sure enough, when I wandered aimlessly toward the kitchen my son stood in front of the coffeemaker, waiting while it brewed me a single cup.

“I’ll sort through the gifts,” Sarah said, eager to get to the presents.

“Give me a chance to wake up,” I complained, doing my best to hide a smile at my daughter’s enthusiasm.

“Hurry, Daddy,” she cried impatiently. Taking me by the hand, she led me into the living room and patted at the recliner, indicating that I needed to sit there. No sooner had I sat down than Mark delivered my coffee. I took a tentative sip, not wanting to burn my lips.

“Can we get started now?” Sarah implored, holding the largest gift under the tree in both hands.

“Okay, sure,” I said. While I wouldn’t let the kids know it, I was just as eager as they were to have them open their gifts. Shopping with Shay had been an eye-opener. Her insights into my children’s needs and wants had made the expedition fun. I don’t think I’d laughed that much in months. I’d enjoyed spending time with her.

Later I thought to buy her a gift to thank her. Something small. Nothing personal. I mulled it over for a couple days, wondering if it would be the right thing to do. My gut said I should, but I wasn’t sure it would be appropriate—me buying Shay a gift. It could easily be misconstrued.

I knew what Linda would say if I mentioned it to her, and I trusted her judgment. In the end I decided against it. I hoped I wouldn’t regret it later.

“Open this one first,” Sarah said, racing to my side. There’d been a Santa Workshop at the school for students to purchase gifts for their parents. I knew Sarah had been saving her allowance to buy me something special and was eager for me to unwrap it. My little girl had spent copious amounts of time wrapping and taping my gift with great care. She was obviously proud of what she’d chosen for me.

“You want me to open my gift first?” I asked as she handed me the present. She’d wrapped it with enough paper to circle the living room twice over. I tore it away with both hands. “I can’t imagine what you’d get me,” I said eagerly. Sarah stood so close to my side, she was nearly sitting on the arm of my recliner.

“You’re going to like it, Daddy.”

When I was finally able to tear away the excessive paper, I found a flashlight. We’d had a power outage a few months back and I hadn’t been able to locate a flashlight. I actually needed one.

“Sarah, thank you. This is perfect.”

She tossed her arms around my neck and squeezed me with all her might.

Mark had me open his gift next. He got me a Seahawks coffee mug and a Seahawks keychain. I smiled and thanked him. Mark wasn’t nearly as exuberant as Sarah, but I knew he was proud of the gifts he’d gotten me and I wanted him to know I appreciated them.

I watched anxiously as the children opened their gifts. Sarah gasped when she saw the earrings along with the promise she could have her ears pierced.

“Daddy, oh Daddy, I’ve been wanting my ears pierced forever and ever. It’s on my wish list.” Once again she threw her arms around me and squeezed until I found it hard to breathe. She was equally thrilled with the Barbie Shay had mentioned.

When Mark opened his phone, he stared at it a long time. I knew he was pleased.

“It’s ready to go. I’ve got important numbers already programmed into it for you,” I explained.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re welcome, son.”

It was Sarah’s turn to go next and I didn’t recognize the wrapping. “Who’s that from?” I asked.

“Shay,” she said, ripping aside the paper.

I frowned. “When did you see Shay?” I asked.

“Yesterday while you were at the church. She stopped by and asked me to put these under the tree and I did.”

“You didn’t tell me she was here.”

“I forgot. When you got back it was time to get ready for the program. Shay said she knew you were busy and didn’t want to bother you.”

I wished I’d known about her visit; I would have liked to talk to her.

Sarah continued unwrapping her gift and beamed a huge smile. “She got me fingernail polish and some hair clips,” she said, holding everything up, proudly displaying her gifts. “This way we can do another spa day, just us girls.” She looked pointedly at her brother.

Ignoring his sister, Mark opened his gift from Shay next. It appeared to be a thick magazine of some sort. “It’s a book of mathematical puzzles,” he explained, “and a set of pencils. Cool.”

Cool? Further proof that Shay knew what my children would want better than I did. Mark excelled at math, but it never dawned on me that he would enjoy the challenge of mathematical puzzles.

“What did we get Shay?” Sarah asked, looking intently at me.

This was a bit embarrassing. Now I wished I’d given in to the impulse and gotten her something. Thinking quickly, I said, “I thought we’d take her to dinner one night, just the three of us.”

Sarah cocked her head to one side. “But taking her to dinner isn’t something she can open. Did anyone get Shay presents?”

“I don’t know.”

Sarah sat back on her haunches. “That makes me sad. Where is she going for Christmas dinner?”

I didn’t know that, either. “She didn’t tell me.”

“What if she’s all alone, Dad?” Mark asked me.

“I’m sure she has friends, Mark,” I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. I should have considered that myself. Should have realized she was probably spending the day alone.

“Could we invite her to come to dinner with us to Mrs. Kincaid’s house?” Mark asked.

I shook my head. I wished I’d thought of Shay sooner. “I’m afraid not, son. Seeing that the Kincaids are hosting dinner, they would need to be the ones to invite Shay.”

Both of the children looked disappointed.

“Tell you what,” I said, “first thing tomorrow we’ll have breakfast at The Corner Café where Shay works and we’ll invite her to dinner. How does that sound?”

“It’s not Christmas Day, though.”

“No, it’s not,” I agreed.

“Can we go to her house and thank her for our gifts when we leave for the Kincaids?” Sarah asked.

I needed to think about it. If Shay was home and alone, the children wouldn’t want to leave her. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t invite her to join us at the Kincaid house. It wasn’t my place.

“We’ll stop off to see Shay on our way home,” I decided.

The children looked disappointed but agreed.

“Daddy, please. Shay is our friend and we didn’t even buy her a Christmas gift.”

It surprised me how guilty I felt. “We’ll do better next Christmas,” I promised.

—

Dinner with the Kincaids was great, as always. In addition to being my right hand when it came to matters at the church, Linda was an excellent cook. She had gifts for me and the children, but I knew the doll she bought Sarah was one geared toward someone much younger than my daughter. And the camera she wrapped up for Mark was unnecessary, since he now had his own phone. Still, she was thoughtful, and I made sure they showed their appreciation. She bought me a book I’d been wanting to read, although I didn’t know when I’d find the time.

The traditional prime rib dinner was excellent, but as soon as we were finished I could see that the kids were antsy and ready to leave. If we left too early, Linda would wonder, so I delayed our departure as best I could without disappointing my children.

As soon as we were in the car, Sarah leaned into the front seat.

“Seatbelt on,” I reminded her.

“I know, Daddy, I know. I wanted to ask if we can still stop by and see Shay. Please.”

I hesitated and then nodded. “Okay. But you have to remember her place is small and there won’t be room inside for all of us.”