An enticing aroma greeted Jane and the brothers upon entering the latter's apartment. Jane helped set the dining table with bowls and spoons, while Danny carried in a crock of stew, and Prett brought a platter of cornbread muffins with a jar of jam. Val held out a chair before sitting next to her.

"I'll pray," Prett said. He reached out his hands and each brother took hold of one. Val held his other hand to Jane. This is uncomfortable. Danny stretched his hand across the table. Oh! Holding hands with Danny!

"Father Jesus, we thank you for this day, this food, our family and friends, and our blessed lives. Amen." The men let go. Oh. I thought we'd hold hands longer. Jane pulled her arms from the table. Hush. And stop blushing. "There's bread and peanut butter," Prett said to her, "if you find this slop inedible."

"It smells great," she said. "You made this, Danny?" He nodded as he filled her bowl.

"What did you put in it?" Prett asked. "Venison?" Danny shook his head. "Squirrel? Rabbit? Possum?" Danny shook his head at each one, grinning. "One of Miss Dona's cats went missing the other day..." Danny laughed.

Looks like beef stew. Jane blew on a small piece of meat. "Definitely beef," she said, after eating it.

Prett twitched his head. "Cat meat can fool you like that." His brothers chuckled.

"You've never eaten cat," Jane challenged.

Prett raised his eyebrows as he contemplated his bowl. "I don't know." He looked across at Val. "Ole Rufus fed us all kinds of mystery meat, remember?" Val nodded. "But I was always too hungry to care." He stared at Val a little longer, his eyes glazing as though lost in memory. His face took on a troubled expression. He returned focus to his bowl and said no more.

"Well, this tastes awesome," Jane said after eating a few more spoonfuls. Val nodded in agreement. Danny thanked them before turning expectantly to Prett.

"I concede I've never had a better cat stew. So, who's heading out with me tonight?" Val shook his head and signed an explanation. "You, Vel?" Danny looked a little sheepish as he replied. "I figured as much. Guess it's you and me for the rest of the night, Miss Jane."

"Doing what?"

"Deliveries."

"Deliveries? I thought you were done."

"Those were donations. What's left are Christmas gifts. Much more fun."

"Oh." She turned to Danny. "Why aren't you guys going?"

"They need to plow the streets now that it's stopped snowing. Actually–let me clarify–Val needs to plow. Vel just wants to play in the snow with tractors." Danny nodded, grinning.

"Why do you need to plow?" Jane asked them.

"Val works for the village; plowing roads and mowing ditches and such."

"I thought you all worked for Mrs. Gingery."

"That's mostly me," Prett said.

"Doing what?"

Prett shrugged. "Little errands. This and that. The biggest thing is renovate her hotel." He took a bite of muffin.

"And manage her money?"

Prett stopped chewing for a moment, and Jane thought she saw a flash of anger cross his face. But he swallowed, and said lightly, "I should have made you stay in the truck instead of letting you get an earful from Bubblegum Barbie." He took a long drink of soda and picked up his spoon to resume eating. Danny signed to him. When that didn't elicit a response, Danny kicked him. "Yes," he said with slight annoyance. "I handle her finances, too."

"But Blair's dad doesn't like that?"

"Blair's dad doesn't like a lot of things."

"Sounded like her mom doesn't, either."

"Celia just needs stronger meds."

"Blair said her dad sent her to spy on me."

"That was obvious."

"Why? I don't even know him."

"That's the kind of guy he is. Suspicious of everyone."

"Apparently he thought I was there to steal from Mrs. Gingery or something."

"Now that would be ironic, wouldn't it?" Prett muttered.

"Or that I was just a...a scared, pitiful creature you would spend her money on."

"Now, there is some truth to that."

"Which part–that I'm a scared, pitiful creature, or that you're spending Mrs. Gingery's money on me?"

"Well," Prett said, giving it some thought, "both."

"Thanks a lot for the compliment."

"You have your opinions about me. I have mine about you."

"Yet you still want me to help you with delivering stuff?"

He shrugged. "Like I said, might need someone to push the truck out of a ditch."

"Mrs. Gingery told me to make you do all the hard work."

"But she isn't the one getting paid, is she?"

Jane pursed her lips. "No."

"It's settled then."

Jane caught Danny's amused expression. "What about you? What do you do for work?"

"He just leeches off the government," Prett said. Danny laughed.

I wish Danny was going with us. He's fun. Prett makes me a little nervous. She peeled the wrapper off her muffin. No, you just don't like him pointing out your flaws. She kicked her own foot. Shut up.

They finished eating, cleared the table, and went next door to the hotel. Prett and Jane carried her bedding to the honeymoon suite, and when they returned to the lobby, his brothers were sorting through the wrapped boxes under the glittering trees. I thought those were for decoration. Jane picked up one. Definitely something inside. She read the tag. "From: Santa" in block letters. "To:" was left blank.

They transferred all the gifts to the truck. "Where to first?" she asked as Prett pulled away from the hotel.

"That's part of the fun. I don't know."

"You don't have a list?"

"We don't run off a list. We just pick."

"Pick?"

He glanced at her. "At random."

"What do you mean?"

"We drive around neighborhoods and pick out houses. Poor neighborhoods, mostly. But sometimes nicer neighborhoods. We knock on the door and hand them a gift."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"That's so..." She paused.

"So..." Prett prompted.

"Unexpected."

"That's what we're aiming for."

"You do this every year?"

"Yeah. GiGi and her husband came up with the idea years ago. They started small, and it's evolved into this."

"And you deliver the gifts, even in bad weather?"

"That increases the joy."

Jane laughed. He must be crazy.

"You'll see."

Jane pointed to the piles in the back seat. "So what's in them?"

"The gifts? Laptops, iPads, iPods, cameras, gift cards, things like that."

"Wow. And Mrs. Gingery pays for it all?"

"Yeah."

"She's really generous."

"She is."

Jane was quiet a moment. "Is it really okay that...you hired me, and she's paying for it?"

"Yeah."

"She can afford it?"

"Yeah, she can afford it. Did Miss Bippy tell you otherwise?"

"Well, not exactly."

"What exactly did she say?"

"That Mrs. Gingery has millions and that you're spending it on...you know, people like me."

"That I am."

"But won't she need it for herself?"

"She's a hundred two. The days of her needing it are painfully short."

"Maybe she wants to leave an inheritance."

"She is. An inheritance of outrageous generosity."

Jane was quiet a moment. "Maybe they'd rather have money."

He let out a grunt. "But that isn't up to them, is it? GiGi can do as she pleases with her money. Give it away. Bury it in the backyard. Burn it in the fireplace. There will still be plenty left when she's gone. And a steady stream of income for years after. Her heirs have nothing to worry about."

Wow. So she is as rich as Blair said. Jane sighed. Not that it's anything to do with me. Except for what I'm getting paid. She watched the dark road, sporadically lit by the headlights of passing vehicles. A hundred thirty dollars left from what Prett and Danny gave me. If Prett pays me the other forty, I could leave tonight. She crossed her arms. Yeah. That won't get me far. She looked at Prett. He sure doesn't talk much. Unless I'm asking questions. "What room will I paint first?"

"Kitchen. The cabinets have come in and we'd like to get them installed."

"And then what room?"

He shrugged. "Your choice."

Jane waited for him to add anything. He didn't. She turned back to watching the road. Men.

Several minutes later they entered the town where they'd made their deliveries. "What's the name of this place?" Jane asked.

"Grand Island."

Grand Island? Doesn't look like either. Prett turned onto a residential street and stopped at a colorfully lit house. He picked a gift from the stack, wrote something on the tag, and walked to the front door with Jane following. "Merry Christmas," he said as he handed the gift to the Hispanic man who answered. Prett headed back to the truck before the surprised man could respond.

"You don't wait for him to open it?" Jane asked as they drove away, leaving the man still standing in the doorway, holding the gift.

"Not usually. People want an explanation; who's giving it, and why. That takes too long. Sometimes we leave the gift at the door, ring the bell and leave." He stopped at another house, grabbed a gift, and wrote on the tag.

"What are you writing?" Prett held it so she could see he'd added "To: White house with blue shutters" in block letters.

Prett put this gift inside the screen door before ringing the bell. He and Jane were halfway back to the truck when the door opened. Prett called out "Merry Christmas!" to the elderly man.

"Hope he has grandkids," Prett said once they were back in the truck, "since we just gave him an iPad." Prett knew what was in each package by the size, weight, and color wrapping. They delivered a $500 grocery store gift card to the woman with the baby grandson, but otherwise picked houses at random, taking turns choosing residences and gifts. Sometimes they handed the gifts to the recipient, sometimes they rang the doorbell and called out a "Merry Christmas" if someone answered before they could get away. "How do you know they're even Christian?" Jane asked. "What if they're Jewish or atheist?"

"It's still a Merry Christmas whether they celebrate or not. And who doesn't enjoy a good gift?"

One home in a ritzy neighborhood had a Christmas party in progress. Prett sent Jane alone, saying, "You do this one. They're likely to take me for a burglar." She intended to hand over the gift personally, but chickened out as soon as she rang the doorbell. She put the gift on the porch and ran back to the truck, slipping on snow-covered ice and landing hard on her knee. She scrambled up and was back in the truck before the door behind her opened. Prett roared away, and Jane laughed with exhilaration.

After this they competed to see who could deliver the gift and make it back to the truck without being caught. Sometimes they sped off, other times they watched from the cab. As they waited in front of one such house, a middle-aged woman on crutches gingerly stepped out on her snowy porch to retrieve the package. When she returned inside, Jane expected Prett to drive away as usual, but he didn't. "Let's shovel her walk," he said and exited the truck. She got out too, and he handed her a shovel.

The exertion of scooping snow kept Jane warm despite the arctic wind. Now I understand why I'm wearing this pink abomination. The frosty air caused her nose to run, and she sniffled. How ridiculous this is. I've got nothing, and here I am, helping people who have it better than me. She stopped to wipe her nose, watching Prett methodically toss snow into the lawn. "Why do you do this?"

"Do what?"

"This." She swept her hand from the path they'd cleared to the truck. "All this."

"It's what I do."

"Why?"

This time he stopped long enough to look at her. "For the joy."

He said it so matter-of-factly she couldn't tell if he was serious or sarcastic. He resumed shoveling, and after wiping her nose again, so did she. When they finished, the woman on crutches opened the door and thanked them profusely for the gift. "No, thank you, ma'am," Prett said when she offered to pay for their work. "Have a Merry Christmas." They left her perplexed and happy.

Once they were back in the truck, Jane said to him, "Bad weather increases joy."

"Yep."

She giggled. "I think I get it now." The snow gives more ways to help. They distributed the remaining gifts, shoveled a few more walks, and helped a young nurse headed to work scrape ice off her car. Jane threw herself into each act of kindness with giddy enthusiasm. Outrageous generosity! Increase joy! Though if Prett actually felt any such sentiments, she couldn't tell. He didn't laugh or smile, while she giggled at everything the rest of the evening.

They arrived back at the hotel a little after midnight, when Jane's giddiness had subsided into exhaustion. Val's trees illuminated the dark hotel lobby, and Jane walked towards the shimmering beauty of the nearest. I want to curl up underneath and just stare at the lights. But Prett headed upstairs, saying, "Let's get your room ready." Jane reluctantly turned from the mesmerizing brilliance and followed him up. I'm too tired to get those sheets on my bed.

Prett opened the door to her bedroom and waved her through first. Jane entered, then stopped short. The bed was already made. And a chest of drawers had been added to the room, along with a small table to serve as a nightstand. On the latter sat a lamp, a clock radio, and a tall red glass vase filled with silver glittery branches. The chest of drawers held a matching red bowl of silver ornaments surrounded by a strand of clear lights. In a corner a small portable heater hummed. "Val strikes again," Prett commented. Jane's eyes filled with tears. So that's who he was texting all night. She pretended to search though a bag of clothes to hide her emotions. Prett checked the bathroom. "Even remembered the toilet paper." He looked around the bedroom. "Well then, looks like you're set for the night."

Jane wiped away an escaped tear. "Yeah." Prett now stood at the end of the bed, staring blankly at the pile of clothes Jane had dumped out. He let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyebrow. He looks as exhausted as I feel.

"Come over for breakfast," he said. "Sometime after eight. I'll make sure we're all decently dressed by then. And no later than eleven, in case the ladies decide they need us sooner."

"Ladies?"

"Cadence. Holly. Gi–"

"Oh! Christmas dinner. I forgot."

He patted his pockets. "I'll give you my cell number in case you need anything else." They exchanged numbers, and he started towards the door. "Oh. Here." He pulled several twenties from his pocket. "Today's pay for a job well done."

Jane accepted the money. "Wait. You only owe me forty." She peeled off three of the bills. "You already paid me sixty, remember?"

"That was for groceries. Room and board." He ignored her outstretched hand. "That's in addition to your pay."

"Oh. Yeah." Jane lowered her hand. "Thanks."

"See you in the morning."

Jane watched him walk to the back stairs. He'd taken two steps down when she called out, "Prett?" He stopped. "Thanks again...for everything."

He shrugged. "That's what I do." He disappeared down the stairs.

I understand. He does it for the joy.

But just in case, she locked the doors.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please help me improve my writing by pointing out problems. And if you like what you read, please click the Vote button below. And comment! I love comments! 😊

Fun Fact: Danny does make an awesome beef stew:

2 pounds beef stew meat, cut into 1 inch cubes
1/4 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 clove garlic, minced
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon paprika
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1 onion, chopped
1 1/2 cups beef broth
3 potatoes, diced
4 carrots, sliced
1 celery stalk, chopped

Place meat in slow cooker. In a small bowl, mix together flour, salt and pepper. Pour over meat and stir to coat. Stir in the remaining ingredients. Cover and cook on low for 10-12 hours or on high for 4 to 6 hours.

I've put the recipe in the comments so you can copy & paste it to print.

Be sure to vote and comment! ⤵