'Twas the Chihuahua Before Christmas, Page 3

Charlotte said.

  Ivan felt around some more and came out with two bits of green and red material – also damp and stained.

  “And her elf costume!” Charlotte broke into laughter, then covered her mouth. “The mother must have chewed through the wall and dragged whatever soft stuff she could find into the hole, to make a bed. But why didn’t she just come to the house?”

  Ivan stood. “She bit at my hands, although she was too afraid to use force. I think she has not been treated well by people.”

  “Poor thing,” Charlotte murmured. She stared down at the covered box. “Sheila Canter, Lila’s vet, has two grandkids in town. I’ll bet anything she’s bringing them to meet Santa tonight. I’ll ask her to take a look at these dogs.”

  Charlotte had Ivan look for bottles and jars to fill with hot water, to keep the mother and puppy warm inside her car. While he did that, she searched the workshop for white fake fur to make Santa’s sleeve cuffs and beard. Fake fur was not a big part of most Chihuahuas’ wardrobes, but she finally found a sample from one of her vendors. The silky white fur was shot through with strands of holographic tinsel. Charlotte regarded it doubtfully. “I guess it’ll work.”

  It was a quarter to six when they arrived at the Manitou Springs Volunteer Fire Department. Ivan went over to look at the antique truck as Charlotte unclipped Lila’s lead from the dog seat. She turned with Lila in her arms and found Shermont Lester standing behind her, dressed in Victorian finery.

  Shermont gave her a panicky look. “What the hell is Ivan got up as?”

  “Santa,” Charlotte said shortly. “And you’re lucky to have him, after what we’ve been through today. I had to give up on the Mrs. Claus thing entirely.”

  They went over to the truck, where Shermont shook Ivan’s hand and introduced him to the other passengers, who also wore reproduction Victorian clothes. “We appreciate you filling in at the last minute, Ivan.” He pointed to the running board of the fire engine. “If you’ll step there and climb up, we’ll get going.”

  Charlotte waited until Ivan was seated, then handed Lila up, dressed in the blue and white outfit.

  “I thought Lila was going to be an elf,” Shermont said.

  “Something happened to the elf costume, so Lila is a snowflake,” Charlotte said.

  “But she’s a black dog!”

  “Don’t be racist, Shermont.” Charlotte waved at Ivan and Lila. “Break a leg!”

  Ivan scowled at her. “No.”

  “It’s just a theatre expression.” She gave up trying to explain as Shermont closed the fire truck door.

  “Gotta go,” he said, trotting around the truck to get in on the other side.

  She started to leave, then turned around. “Could you not ring the bell until you get a little bit away from the station? I have a rather delicate passenger in my car.”

  A large white tent sat beneath the town clock on Manitou Avenue. Bundled-up parents and children stood inside it and spilled onto the sidewalk, drinking hot cider and basking in the warmth of propane heaters. When the fire truck pulled up, mothers and fathers pointed to it and whispered, “Here comes Santa!” to their youngsters.

  The door opened, and Ivan stepped down from the truck, Lila in one arm. Multicolored light shot from the glittery strands in his beard and the cuffs of his coat.

  “Why is he all sparkly?” a small boy asked in a piercing voice.

  His older sister gave him a pitying look. “That’s how you know he’s magic.”

  “But what’s that he’s holding?” her brother persisted.

  “One of the animals that visited baby Jesus,” his sister said. “That must be the black sheep.”

  Ivan regarded the assembled tots from beneath lowered brows. Then he placed a hand on his hip and leaned back. “Ha, ho, ho!” he bellowed. “Merry Christmas!”

  An impromptu cheer rose from the crowd.

  Charlotte led Sheila Canter, the vet, to her car.

  “I thought you were supposed to be Mrs. Claus,” Sheila said.

  “I kind of ran out of time, what with one thing and another.” Charlotte opened the back door of the car and carefully lifted the fabric that covered the cardboard box. A growl came from inside as she did, but it wasn’t very menacing.

  The mother Chihuahua blinked sleepily up at her, surrounded by towel-wrapped bottles of warm water. Two white pups nursed at her belly.

  Charlotte stepped aside so Sheila could take her place. “As soon as she had that second pup, she ate half a can of dog food and drank almost a cup of water.”

  “What a good dog,” Sheila cooed. “You say she bit at Ivan’s hands?”

  Charlotte nodded. “But not hard, and she let me put food and water in the box without snapping. I wore gloves, just in case.”

  Sheila nodded. “She might have a problem with men.”

  “Ivan will cure her of that if anyone can,” Charlotte said.

  Sheila snapped her fingers above the box, to get the mother dog to look up. “Her mouth is kind of torn up. Any idea what that’s from?”

  “We think it’s from chewing through the drywall,” Charlotte said. “I’ll make an appointment to bring her in as soon as I can.”

  “If you can clean it with soap and water, that would be good. I hesitate to put her on antibiotics, what with the nursing pups.” Sheila replaced the fabric and straightened, then closed the car door as gently as she could. “You have my emergency number.”

  “Thanks.” Charlotte smiled. “Have a good Christmas.”

  “You, too.” Sheila raised a hand in farewell and went to her SUV, where her grandchildren could be seen jumping up and down in the back seat.

  Charlotte returned to the tent. Volunteers were dismantling the platform for Santa’s throne while the official photographer snapped pictures of Lila under the Christmas tree. Ivan and Shermont Lester stood close by, talking and sipping hot cider. Ivan’s sparkly beard dangled from one ear so he could drink from his cup unimpeded.

  “Best Santa ever,” Shermont said, as Charlotte joined them.

  “Wasn’t he?” Charlotte gave Ivan a proud look. “What did you say to that obnoxious child who shoved his sister off the platform? I was never so glad to see a little boy burst into tears.”

  Ivan took a flask from inside his coat and unscrewed the lid. “I told him to behave, or Ded Moroz would leave him in the woods to freeze to death.”

  Shermont choked on a sip of his drink. “Ded Moroz? Isn’t that a rapper?”

  “You’re thinking of Mos Def,” Ivan said. “And he is an actor now. Quite good.” He offered the flask to Shermont, who waved it away.

  The photographer came over, holding Lila. “She’s gotten a little restless. I think she might have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Charlotte said, taking Lila.

  The photographer smiled at Ivan. “Nice boots, Santa. See you around.”

  Ivan gave a little wave. “Bye-bye.” He tossed back the contents of his cup and took Lila from Charlotte. “We will go pee now.”

  Shermont watched him walk away. “I hope he just means the dog.”

  “Probably,” Charlotte said.

  “I heard you have some unexpected guests.” Shermont raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to keep them?”

  “If it works out.” Charlotte smiled. “Never look a gift Chihuahua in the mouth, especially on Christmas Eve.”

  Charlotte parked in front of the house. Lila had fallen asleep under her blanket. “What a good snowflake you were tonight,” Charlotte said, as she unclipped the leash from the dog seat.

  Lila yawned and stretched before licking Charlotte’s hand.

  Ivan opened the other rear door and lifted the box with the mother and pups in it. “I will keep them in my room tonight. It will be easier for Lila if she thinks they are my dogs.”

  “You know best.” Charlotte went up the walk ahead of him, so she could unlock the front door and push it open.

  As they took off the
ir coats, Charlotte glanced into the parlor. “We never did decorate the tree, but I’m so tired, all I want to do is eat something and go to bed. Do you mind terribly if we decorate it tomorrow?”

  Ivan shook his head. “The Russian Orthodox Christmas does not happen until January 7th. I am going to cook a steak. Do you want one?”

  “Thank you, but that’s a little heavy for me. I’ll just have some cereal.”

  It was still dark when Lila woke Charlotte by licking her face. “Why are you up so early?” Charlotte murmured, lifting the covers. As Lila crept underneath and nestled against her side, Charlotte’s eyes drifted shut.

  She woke again a few hours later. Sunlight poured through the windows, and she could see a strip of brilliant blue sky from where she lay. She threw back the covers, eliciting a groan from Lila, who was still asleep. “Merry Christmas, Lila-loo! Let’s get up and see how our guests are.”

  She dressed Lila in a shimmery green frock with a red bow and gave her two treats. “Because it’s Chrismas,” she said, as Lila licked her chops.

  Charlotte opened one of the drawers in her antique desk and took out a wrapped package for Ivan. It contained a pair of leather gloves lined with cashmere, a bottle of cologne she preferred to the one he normally wore, and a small stack of cash, tied with a red ribbon. It also had a tag that read, Good luck at the casino!

  She donned her robe and slippers and they started downstairs.

  Ivan called up to her from the ground floor. “Put Lila on a leash, please.”

  “Lila, come!” Charlotte called.

  Lila gave her a confused look, but came back up the stairs.

  Charlotte picked her up. “Sorry, Ivan,” she called. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  Lila’s dress didn’t have a ring for attaching a lead, so Charlotte swapped it for a harness dress in red, leashed her, and went downstairs again. She walked into the kitchen, but it was empty.

  “Where are you?” she called.

  “In the parlor,” Ivan answered.

  Charlotte went to the parlor, Lila trotting ahead of her on the leash. When she got inside, she stopped. “Oh, Ivan.”

  The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree sparkled off tinsel and ornaments. Beneath it sat an open cardboard box. Ivan had cut down the sides and used a felt-tipped pen to make it look like a sleigh. Three Chihuahua toys from Charlotte’s collection were tied to the front with ribbon, as though pulling the sleigh. And inside the box, just visible, were the mother Chihuahua and her puppies.

  Charlotte picked up Lila, who was straining at her lead, and tiptoed over to look inside. The mother Chihuahua’s fur was clean and white, and lay about her in luxuriant, still-damp swathes. She raised her head and yipped when she saw Lila.

  Lila barked back.

  “She let you give her a bath?” Charlotte marveled.

  Ivan grinned. “About two hours ago. I let her sleep while I decorated the tree. Then I took part of my steak, which I had saved, and chewed each piece before I fed it to her. It is an old trick. Then I talked to her for a long time.”

  “What did you talk about?” Charlotte asked.

  Ivan lifted one shoulder. “My time in the circus. My son. How cold it is in Russia, and how lucky we are to be here with you.”

  Charlotte stepped forward and wrapped her free arm around Ivan, while Lila tried to lick him. “We’re lucky to have you.” After a moment, she stepped back and wiped her eyes. “Shall I put Lila down so they can meet?”

  “One moment.” Ivan went over to the box and stroked the new dog’s head, then gently gripped the long fur at the scruff of her neck. “Go ahead.”

  Charlotte put Lila down and shortened the lead. Then she let her advance toward the tree.

  The new Chihuahua stood and stepped out of her bed, Ivan’s hand still in her fur.

  Ivan and Charlotte spoke soothingly as the dogs came closer. Finally they sniffed noses, and two plumy tails began to wag, one black, one white. Then Lila suddenly dropped, legs splayed, and barked an invitation to play.

  “I think they will be fine,” Ivan said. “But I will get a leash and harness, just in case.” He picked up the new dog and walked toward the foyer, where several leashes and harnesses hung on pegs.

  Charlotte picked up Lila and walked forward so she could see inside the box. The two white puppies squirmed blindly, their eyes sealed shut. They seemed impossibly small.

  Lila whined questioningly.

  “Aren’t they precious?” Charlotte said. “You’re going to have brothers and sisters again! At least, there may be a brother. I don’t know yet.”

  Ivan came back with the white Chihuahua on a leash. She ran back to the box and settled in with her pups.

  “I guess she’ll play with you later,” Charlotte told Lila, who trembled with excitement. She went to a nearby love seat and settled Lila on her lap. “Do you know what sex they are?” she asked Ivan.

  “One boy, one girl.”

  Charlotte smiled. “We’ll need to come up with names for them. You said Ded Moroz travels with his granddaughter?”

  Ivan nodded. “The Snow Maiden.”

  “What’s her name in Russian?”

  “Snegurochka.”

  Charlotte made a face. “Kind of a mouthful.”

  Ivan chuckled. “In English, Ded Moroz is ‘Grandfather Frost.’ You could call the boy ‘Frost’ and the girl ‘Snow.’ That still leaves the mother.”

  “Oh, I already know what I’m going to call her,” Charlotte said, smiling. “Ivana.”

  Ivan turned away and stroked Ivana’s head. She looked up and blinked at him with affection. “That is a nice name,” he said.

  Charlotte scratched behind Lila’s ears. “I want you to know, this is one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had.” She laughed. “And I’ve had a lot of them.”

  Ivan grinned at her. “That is because you have your own Santa Claus. Shall I put on the costume for giving presents?”

  Charlotte looked down at Lila to hide her smile. “How about just the hat?”

  Ivan got to his feet. “And the beard. It is much fancier than the one Ded Moroz has. Do you think it would be all right to wear it to the casino tomorrow?”

  Charlotte chuckled. “I think that would be perfect.”

  About the Author

  Esri Allbritten lives in Boulder, Colorado with her husband, Joe, and her cat, Musette La Plume. She enjoys discovering quirky real-life towns and wreaking fictional havoc in them in her Tripping Magazine mystery series. The first book, Chihuahua of the Baskervilles, was published in print and ebook from St. Martin’s Press. The second in the series, The Portrait of Doreene Gray, will come out July of 2012 from the same publisher. All books in this series feature Chihuahuas. Musette La Plume does not approve of dogs, so this is how Esri gets her Chihuahua fix – for now. You can learn more at EsriAllbritten.com, or communicate with Esri “in person” on Facebook.