It was just past 7:30 when Michael climbed the steps leading to the porch behind the kitchen. The sky was dark with thick gray clouds. More snow, he thought as he stomped his booted feet upon the outer rug then bent and began to remove them. Nikita would kill him if tracked mud into the house, especially after spending all afternoon mopping up after Chantel's little Christmas experiment. Who would have thought a tiny bottle of red food dye could make such a mess? Certainly not him -- otherwise he'd never have bought it for her when she'd asked him to. It was a good thing Nikita had been too busy trying to get the dye off of the floor and the cabinets to really think about how Chantel had gotten the food color in the first place.

Setting his shoes aside, Michael straightened up and took one last scrutinizing look around at the yard. The animals were fed and secured. There was plenty of dry wood for both Grandma Adrian's fireplace and theirs. They'd done their food shopping the day before. The gifts for Madeline and Paul's boys had long been mailed along with Sharon's and her kids. All that remained left to do was to help the women's auxillary, of which Grandma Adrian was a member, set up for their annual Christmas food booth tomorrow morning.

Michael opened the door and stepped inside, quickly shutting the door behind him to keep the cold out. He was immediately surrounded by the mouth-watering aroma of ginger and cinnamon. A result of Nikita's baking for tomorrow's bazaar.

He smiled as he removed his gloves, stuffed them in his pockets then pulled off his coat and hung it on the coat rack next to the door. Mingled with the sweet smell of baked cookies and cake was the sharp tang of fresh evergreen which Nikita and Adrian had woven into garlands and hung above the kitchen window and over the doorway. Bright red ribbons adorned the corners.

On the counter, above the fridge, and in the middle of the kitchen table were gold-wrapped poinsettia plants. It was a welcome sight to come home to, he thought. Apparently Moonbeam thought so too. Chantel's pale colored cat was stretched out on the rug in front of the stove. He lifted his head briefly when the door opened and stared lazily at Michael. Then, noticing that Michael had nothing edible in his hands, settled down once more.

Before Michael could go in search of his family, the door leading to the living room burst open and a small blond tornado came burling through.

"Daddy!"

Michael grinned and held his arms out just in time to receive the little girl into his arms. He caught her firmly in his strong hands then tossed her effortlessly into the air as she released a squeal of laughter. "How's my little princess?" he asked, bringing her in for a close hug and a firm kiss on her cheek.

"How come you took so long?" she inquired, rubbing at her nose. Her fingers, Michael noticed were still tinged with the pink evidence of her afternoon disaster.

"Did I take long?" he asked, shifting her over to the crook of one arm as she wrapped her hand around his neck.

She nodded. "Mommy said if you took any longer we'd have to call out the police to search for you. Were you lost?" In answer he tweaked her nose and pressed another quick kiss to the top of her head.

"Daddies never get lost," he pronounced. "Especially at Christmas time. It’s one of Santa's rules."

"That's not what Mommy and Grandmama said," Chantel argued.

"Really?" He dropped his voice to a whisper and leaned close to her ear. "That shows you how much they know!" And he tickled her till she squirmed with girlish laughter.

Michael pushed the front door open and quickly searched the living room till his eyes lit upon Nikita standing by the tree they'd put up earlier. She was reaching up to place a little silk angel with a gold halo up on one of the branches. Chantel was rambling excitedly about the package she received in the mail from Aunt Maddy but Michael was only half listening. His attention was on Nikita. As she turned to look at him his gaze softened and he felt his chest tighten. Chantel wiggled in his arms, wanting to be let down so that she could show him the red and gold wrapped gift she'd received. Michael put her down then straightened and walked over to Nikita. She smiled as he neared and extended her hand out to him.

"Everything alright?" she asked, tilting her head back a little to receive his kiss.

"Mmm," he answered as he kissed her lips and placed his hands on her rounded belly. She was wearing one of his sweaters over a long black skirt. The thick wool hid most of her pregnancy except from the side where you could distinctly see the firm basketball sized mound of her extended stomach. He caressed her belly lovingly, gazing into her eyes. "Need any help?"

Nikita stepped round Chantel (who was busy digging through the gifts at the bottom of the tree in search of the one from Aunt Maddy) and into her husband's arms. She sighed as she glided her arms up around Michael's neck. "You mean with the tree?" she asked.

"Or anything else," he answered, his gaze sliding down to her lips. Nikita chuckled and leaned in to kiss him properly.

"That," she said, with raised brows, "can come later. Right now I need help putting the star up on top of the tree."

"Ah. I see."

"Yes," she smiled, then turned in his arms to look down at Chantel. "Sweetheart, what are you doing? You're messing up all the gifts."

"I wanna show Daddy the one from Aunt Maddy," she replied. "Here it is!"

Chantel dragged out a gayly wrapped present that was nearly as tall as she was. It had a big gold ribbon on the top along with a small card neatly inscribed with Madeline's precise penmanship: "To Chantel, From Auntie Maddy, Uncle Paul and the boys."

Chantel struggled to wrap her arms around the gift, working her way between her parents and beaming a wide smile up to her father. "See, Daddy?"

Michael glanced first at Nikita, their eyes locking and filling with amusement. Then, releasing Nikita, he bent down and took the present from Chantel and pretended to study it carefully. "This is a mighty big present," he said thoughtfully. "Are you sure you've been a good girl to deserve something this big?"

Chantel tilted her head to one side and bit her lower lip. She looked shyly up at her mother and then over at her father. "I think so," she murmured, then hid her pink tinged fingers behind her back.

Nikita made a choking sound, stifling the laugh that came to her lips as she lovingly stroked Chantel's long blond curls. "Tell Daddy to stop teasing you, darling."

Chantel looped an arm around her mother's leg and stared at her father. "Stop teasing, Daddy," she said in a small voice. Her lip quivered and formed into a pout as her eyes became shiny and moist.

Michael was instantly remorseful at seeing the tears in his daughter's eyes. He set the gift aside and knelt down. He smiled kindly as he looked into Chantel's eyes and held his arms out to her. "I'm sorry baby," he said. "I was just having some fun. Forgive me?" Chantel nodded, then went into his arms and laid her head on her father's shoulder. Michael looked up at Nikita who rolled her eyes and raised her hand to cover her mouth in an effort to keep from laughing. Michael was such a pushover when it came to Chantel. God help him if the next baby was a girl too.

"Alright, alright," she said, clapping her hands together and breaking the father/daughter moment. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we? Chantel grab the star there on the table. Daddy'll lift you up and you can place it up on the top branch."

************

After dinner Michael retired to the living room as Nikita and Chantel prepared their surprise for him. He sat on one end of the couch, as he'd been instructed to by Chantel, and waited patiently.

Grandma Adrian had gone out to dinner with friends. Afterward they were going over to church for midnight mass. He and Nikita decided to forego the service this year. It was almost always packed to standing room only and Nikita didn't relish the idea of trudging out in the cold and taking Chantel along with them. So they opted to stay home this Christmas Eve.

Michael closed his eyes and reclined his head back on the sofa as he listened to the soft strains of Christmas carols Nikita had turned on earlier. He was feeling sleepy but knew that if he fell asleep now, he'd have two very upset females on his hands. With a sigh he opened his eyes and stared with a critical eye at the star at the top of the tree. Nikita was right. It was crooked. Rising to his feet he walked over and reached up to straighten it. Just as he finished, the door behind him opened and a small blond head peeked through.

"Are you ready, Daddy?"

He quickly took his seat again as he answered. "Yes Chantel, I'm ready."

There was a rustling of cloth, some murmured whispers, and then Chantel entered the living room. Michael's eyes widened and his lips curved into a smile. Nikita had wrapped a white sheet, toga style, around Chantel. The sheet was a little long and the end dragged behind her. Her golden curls were pinned back at the side and surrounded by a slightly crooked halo made from a garland of silver tinsel. Her eyes were bright with excitement as she smiled at him and walked silently to the middle of the living room floor, then stood with her hands clasped together in front of her chest.

Nikita followed carrying her guitar in hand. She walked over to the stereo and turned off the Christmas music then turned and sat down at the other end of the couch. She looked over at Michael, flashing him a wait-till-you-see-this smile before turning to Chantel. "Ready sweetheart?" she asked.

Chantel nodded and focused her gaze on her father. "I didn't have money to buy you a gift," she said quietly. "But Mommy said that not all gifts have to be bought with money and that gifts of the heart are just as special as something you can buy at the store." She paused, looking to her mother for confidence.

"Go on, my love," Nikita urged, smiling at her.

This gave the little girl the boost she needed and she turned again to face her father. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then reached up and pushed her halo back a little. "My gift to you is a song. Mommy said it’s one of your favorites and she helped me to learn it. I hope you like it," she added, smiling shyly. "I kind of have trouble with the last part."

With that confession, Chantel looked over at her mother and waited. Nikita began to strum softly on the guitar, her eyes focused on Chantel. Michael immediately recognized the tune of the song and waited with anticipation as Chantel turned her blue-eyed gaze back at him. Her voice, he marveled, was clear and sweet as she began to sing for him.

'Oh Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining It is the night of the dear Savior's birth'

Michael watched and listened in rapture as Chantel stood before him, her eyes never leaving his, and sang the words to the carol that his mother had often sung to him when he was a child. He swallowed and blinked to clear his vision as his heart overflowed with love. It seemed only a short while ago that he had stood next to Nikita as she delivered their first born. He recalled the fear that had gripped him as he witnessed Nikita's pain. And then the ecstasy that had followed as the doctor placed a squirming, screaming baby girl in their arms. Nikita had tears flowing down her cheeks as she looked up at him. Wordlessly their hands had clasped as the bond of their love grew a hundred fold. He bent down then, forgetting all about the doctor and the nurses in attendance, and kissed Nikita. "I love you," he whispered, and wiped her tear stained cheeks. Now their little angel was six years old --all grown up almost-- and singing her heart out for him.

'Fall on your knees. Oh hear, the angels voices...'

She was beautiful, he thought. The spitting image of her mother. She did have some trouble with the ending notes but to Michael's loving ears, the song had never sounded more beautiful. A second passed after she stopped singing and Chantel stared at her father. Then the corners of her mouth curved up into a smile and she said quietly, "Merry Christmas, Daddy. I love you."

Nikita watched as Michael opened his arms and Chantel ran to him. He hugged her tightly, burying his face in her hair as he whispered words of love to his daughter. When he lifted his eyes to look to her, Nikita saw that there were tears in his emerald colored eyes. Silently she put the guitar down on the floor then moved over to sit next to him and Chantel.

"Did you like my gift?" Chantel asked, pulling back to look up at her father.

"I think it’s the most beautiful present I've ever received," Michael answered, and Chantel glowed with joy.

"Really?"

"Really."

Michael sighed and lifted her up to sit on his lap as he placed his other arm around Nikita and pulled her close. "I have everything I want right here in my arms," he said.

"I know what you mean," Nikita answered, feeling a quiet contentment fill her as she rubbed one hand along Michael's knee. "She has a beautiful voice, don't you think?"

"Yes, I do." Michael looked at Chantel. "I had no idea you could sing."

"Mommy's been helping me. She said if I sing really good maybe I'll grow up to be a famous singer. Then I'll have lots of money!"

Michael laughed and hugged her. "I don't know if I want you to become a famous singer. Then you'll never want to come home and sing for me on Christmas Eve."

"Yes I will," Chantel argued. "I'll always sing for you if you want me too."

They spent a few more minutes talking and then Chantel climbed down from her father's lap and ran toward the kitchen.

"Chantel?"

"She'll be back," Nikita assured him with a quiet smile. "She baked you a little something while you were gone this afternoon."

Michael's expression became worried. "It’s not more of those peanut butter surprises she made for me at Thanksgiving, is it?" he asked.

Nikita's smile grew wider. "The ones that gave you the runs for two whole days?"

"Ni-ki-ta," Michael whispered, his mouth tuning into a frown. "You didn't."

"Didn't what?" she laughed softly. "Remind her of how much you 'loved' those special treats? Oh but I did, my love. Think of it as payback for giving her that red food dye."

"Red food dye?"

"Don't act innocent," Nikita murmured, smiling as she stared at his lips. "Chantel told me you bought it for her."

Michael moaned. "You're a cruel woman."

"I know." She whispered and leaned in. Several seconds passed in silence as they kissed. Her hand crept up his thigh and his reached up to cup her breast.

"Do we have any Pepto Bismal?" he whispered against her lips.

"Two bottles," she answered, then laughed as he groaned and resigned himself to his fate.

************

Fortunately for Michael, Nikita had only been teasing him about the second half of Chantel's surprise. The little one re-entered the room carefully carrying a plate of sugar cookies and handed it to her father. "Mommy helped me make these," she said, then climbed back up onto his lap. "I tasted one already and they're good."

"Did Mommy taste one too?"

"No," Chantel answered, with a shake of her head. "She said she'd wait and let you go first since it’s your present."

"I see," said Michael, as he glanced over at Nikita. She smiled sweetly at him, placed her chin lightly on top of his shoulder, and waited for him to bite his first cookie. He did so, a little hesitantly, then swallowed. "Mmm, these are good," he proclaimed.

"Of course they are," Nikita laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement as Michael took another cookie off of the plate and popped it into his mouth. She stood then and walked to the kitchen to get them some milk. When she returned, father and daughter had polished off half the cookies and were watching a Christmas special on the television. She smiled as she handed them their drinks. Chantel thanked her then slid down off of Michael's lap and settled between his feet. She took a few more cookies to eat with her milk and sat quietly watching TV. Michael took his glass and set it on the table next to him before reaching back up to pull Nikita down beside him. He offered her a cookie but she shook her head.

"No thank you," she said. "I've had enough to eat already." She snuggled against him and laced her fingers through his. They sat quietly, the three of them, occasionally laughing at the antics of the performers on the television.

About thirty minutes later Chantel yawned loudly and struggled up to her feet. "I'm tired," she said, rubbing her eyes.

Nikita sat up as Michael stood and placed a gentle hand on Chantel's head. "Kiss your mother goodnight, sweetheart," he instructed, then waited as Chantel climbed up on the sofa next to Nikita and wrapped her arms around her neck. She remained there for several seconds with her face pressed against her mother's cheek. Nikita smiled and turned slightly so that she could gather Chantel in her arms. She hugged her, rocked her gently back and forth, then kissed her brow and the tip of her nose.

"I love you, baby."

Chantel's lips formed into a smile as she hugged her mother back. "Love you too, Mommy." With that she turned and raised her hands to her father who lifted and carried her up the stairs.

A warm glow enveloped Nikita as she watched the two leave the room. Another year had passed and they were all safe and happy. Grandma had been reunited with her daughter; Nikita had been reunited with her mother; Chantel had started school. And now she and Michael were expecting their second child. All was right in their world.

Nikita stood and picked up Michael and Chantel's empty glasses then headed toward the kitchen. She took her time washing the dishes and wiping down the counters then turned to look outside. It was snowing lightly outside. She folded her arms over her chest, suppressing a shiver at she recalled the weatherman saying earlier that this winter would be a long one.

Nikita closed the curtains, double-checked the lock on the door, turned off the lights and made her way back to the living room. She held the door open as she remembered Chantel's cat and turned to call him. "Moonbeam? Come on Moonbeam."

He still lay on the rug in front of the stove. As she called him though he opened one eye and slanted her an unconcerned look.

"Are you coming or not?" she asked. "I'm going to close the door. Then you'll have to sleep in here for the night."

Moonbeam rose unhurriedly, stretched his body with feline grace, then sauntered lazily across the kitchen toward Nikita. He passed her silently, switching his tail against her feet,, then headed toward the far corner and curled into a ball and went to sleep.

"Cats," Nikita muttered with a slight shake of her head. When he was good and ready she knew Moonbeam would eventually make his way up to Chantel's room and climb up to sleep at the foot of her bed. He didn't like to go too early though because then Chantel would insist on squeezing him next to Esmerelda on her pillow.

Michael still hadn't returned from putting Chantel to sleep. He was probably reading her a story, Nikita thought. She hummed a little tune to herself as she moved about the living room straightening things up. She replaced Chantel's gift from Madeline and Paul under the tree and arranged the other packages neatly. Picking up the remote she clicked off the television and switched the stereo back on. She turned the volume down so that the music trickled softly into the room. Next she turned off all the lights except for those on the Christmas tree. And then she sat down on the sofa and waited for Michael. She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, Michael was caressing her cheek. Her eyes opened and she blinked a few times before sitting up.

"Relax," he said quietly, as his hands urged her to sink back against the cushions.

"We've got to bring out the other presents," she reminded him.

"We will. Later." His eyes met and held hers as his hands began to massage her feet. "Just relax for now," he whispered.

She expelled a deep breath then lay back and let Michael minister to her. His fingers worked magic on her tired muscles. So much so that she nearly fell asleep again.

Until he reached her thighs.

Suddenly she felt his hands move back down and slipped underneath the hem of her skirt. Her eyes opened and she stared down at him with growing desire as he began to kiss the inside of her knees.

"Michael."

"Shhh..."

She tensed. Bit her lower lip. Then moaned softly as his touch became more intimate. Cool air brushed lightly against her as Michael removed her inner clothing. But it did nothing to quell the fire burning in her loins. Her fingers curled into his hair, guiding him to where she wanted him. He loved her with long tantalizing strokes, short flickering ones. Little teasing nips and then, when he felt her at the very edge, with a deep penetrating kiss.

Nikita cried out and shuddered in her release. Then lay for several long seconds recovering her breath as Michael rearranged her skirt over her legs. He stood then and sat down beside her, gathering her into his arms.

"What about you?" Nikita asked huskily.

Michael pulled her head gently down to lay on his shoulder. His other hand moved down to rest protectively over her stomach. He turned and kissed her forehead. "That was for me," he said softly, and Nikita smiled as she relaxed and fell asleep in his arms.

************

They eventually got around to filling Chantel's stocking and bringing out the gifts they'd bought and hid from her. Everything was arranged neatly around the tree and then they retired to their bed.

They were awakened early the next morning by the sound of their daughter's voice calling to them excitedly from the other side of the bedroom door. Nikita groaned and pulled the blanket tighter around her. She nudged Michael, poking him in the chest. "Your daughter's calling you," she said.

"At this hour of the day she's your daughter," Michael mumbled.

Nikita opened her eyes slowly, a small smile forming on her lips. She looked over at Michael and saw that he hadn't budged. "Michael!"

He mumbled something else and moved closer to her, burying his face into the curve of her neck. His breath tickled Nikita and she began to laugh softly. "Michael," she said quietly, "It’s Christmas morning."

He took a deep breath and pulled back a little to look into her eyes. From the door Chantel called out once more for them to 'hurry up'. "You think if we stay really quiet she'll think we're asleep and go away?" he asked.

Nikita raised an amused brow. "Are you kidding?"

"I didn't think so either."

She chuckled as Michael threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. "We're coming, Chantel," he called, then bent to pick up his pajamas and slipped them back on. He caught Nikita's appreciative gaze and climbed back upon the bed to kneel over her. Bending, he kissed her. "Maybe when she gets distracted with all her presents we can sneak back up here," he suggested.

"Have you forgotten the women's booth?" Nikita asked, suppressing a smile at his frustrated moan. He kissed her again quickly then fished around on the bed for her nightgown and handed it to her.

A few minutes later they stood at the door and opened it to find Chantel sitting on the floor. Her face lit up when she saw them and she jumped to her feet and took both their hands in hers. "What took you two so long?" she asked, "Grandmama and I've been waiting forever."

The next hour passed in a blur of excitement as Chantel tore into her gifts. She 'ooh'd' and 'ahh'd' over her gifts, her eyes sparkling with happiness and then would run over to hug her parents or Grandma Adrian. Nikita and Michael had bought Grandma a pair of diamond earrings. Tears came to her eyes as she gazed at the twin jewels. "This is too much," she protested, but Michael and Nikita hugged and assured her that it was nothing compared to all that she'd done for them. Nikita then showed her the gold Dogwood bracelet Michael had given her and they spent several minutes marveling over that.

Finally Nikita took the last present from under the tree and handed it to Michael. "This is for you, my love," she said, her eyes twinkling. He looked at her curiously, weighing the package in his hands. "Open it," she urged, impatient to see his reaction at her gift.

Michael sat down and opened the wrapping carefully. He laid the ribbon aside then folded the paper neatly as Nikita tapped her feet beside him. At last he got around to opening the box, then smiled broadly at the beautiful leather jacket inside. He lifted it up out of the box and stared at it, turning it over and running his hand over the soft material. "It’s perfect," he said, smiling at Nikita.

"It’s from all of us," she told him, pointing to Adrian and Chantel. "Try it on. We want to see how it fits." Michael slipped it on and found that it molded perfectly to his body.

"Put your hands in the pockets, Daddy. We want to see what you look like," Chantel chimed. Michael laughed as he did so, then frowned as his hand encountered something.

"What's this?" he asked as he pulled out a polaroid photo and a single key on a gold chain.

"It’s the other half of your gift," Adrian said, nodding toward the picture. "Take a look."

Michael did so and a big smile formed on his face. "You three got me a Harley?" The women nodded, laughing at the incredulous look on Michael's face. "How did you know I wanted one?" he asked.

Nikita looked at Adrian and then both women looked down at Chantel. "I told them of how we stop by the motorcycle store sometimes when we go to town," Chantel explained. "You do like it, don't you?" she asked.

"Very much," Michael answered, bending down to kiss her. "I love it." He stood then and hugged Adrian and Nikita. "Thank you."

************

Several hours later Michael, Nikita, Chantel and Adrian were all busy down at the church yard helping out with the women's auxillary food booth. Michael assisted the other men with carrying the heavy pots of food from the kitchen to the serving tables while Nikita and Adrian joined the other ladies in making plates and serving them to the homeless.

Chantel for the most part sat quietly on a stool in the corner playing with Esmerelda and her new doll from Aunt Maddy. Unlike Esmerelda, which had also been a Christmas gift from Aunt Maddy, this doll had light blue eyes with long lashes and golden curls that were tied with a red ribbon. Chantel loved the new doll as much as she loved Esmerelda and sat cuddling both of them.

By and by her attention was captured by a little girl sitting at one of the tables and staring at her. Chantel stared back and noticed how the little girl's coat was way too big for her. It hung down to her ankles and didn't look too clean. In fact, the little girl didn't look to clean herself. Her cheeks were smeared with dirt and her nose was red and runny. She was wearing a funny looking hat that was pulled down over hair that was as black as Esmerelda's and almost hid her eyes too. Almost, but not quite. Chantel could see that the little girl was staring at her two dolls.

Chantel frowned and hugged her dolls tighter as the little girl shifted eyes up and met her gaze. They stared at each other for several more seconds before the little girl turned and snuggled closer to the woman she was sitting next to. Chantel tried to go back to playing with her dolls but her eyes kept drifting back to the little girl with the big coat. Finally, when the woman next to the little girl stood and went back to the food line, Chantel made up her mind to investigate.

She looked over and saw that her mom and dad were still busy helping with the food. She climbed down then and made her way slowly over to the table where the little girl sat. Chantel tapped her lightly on the shoulder and the little girl turned around to face her.

"Hi," Chantel greeted her. "My name's Chantel." The little girl stared at her silently. Then her eyes drifted down with silent longing at the two beautiful dolls Chantel held in her arms. "Do you want to play dolls?" Chantel asked, and the little girl’s eyes lit up as she nodded slowly.

"Okay," Chantel said, and climbed up on the seat next to the girl. "Which one do you want to play with? This one's Esmerelda. I got her last Christmas from my Aunt Maddy." She placed Esmerelda on the table, bending her body so that she could sit on the table edge. Then Chantel brought the other doll up and placed her next to it. "I don't have a name for this one yet."

"How come?" the little girl asked. She still made no move to touch either of the dolls.

Chantel shrugged her shoulders. "I can't think of one that I like yet."

"Was she a gift?"

"Uh huh. From my Aunt Maddy. She always sends me dolls. My mommy says it’s because she doesn't have any girls. Only boys."

"It must be nice," the little girl said wistfully.

"To have only boys?" Chantel asked.

"No." The little girl turned to look at Chantel. "To get pretty gifts like these."

"Didn't you get any pretty gifts?" Chantel asked, and the little girl looked down.

"My mama got me a pair of gloves. See?" She pulled out a worn pair of knit gloves that had a hole on one of the thumbs. The little girl saw Chantel staring at the hole and she quickly stuffed the gloves back in her pocket. "They're a little used but they keep my hands more warmer then my old pair did."

Across the room Michael turned to check on Chantel again and saw that the chair she'd been sitting on was empty. He quickly scanned the room and found her. He stopped what he was doing when he saw the little girl Chantel was seated next to and his heart gave a little jerk. Though Chantel and the girl seemed to be of the same age, there was such a contrast between his daughter's brightly clad figure and that of the little girl in the worn coat. He glanced over at Nikita and saw that she had spotted Chantel also. Quietly they continued in their chore as they surreptitiously watched to see what Chantel would do.

"You can play with one of the dolls," Chantel said to the little girl. "You wanna play with Esmerelda? Or her?"

The little girl faltered, her eyes large and full of wonder. Hesitantly she pointed to the golden haired doll. "Can I play with her?" she asked.

"Sure." Chantel smiled and handed the doll over. Within a few minutes they were giggling like little girls often do and cuddling the dolls.

"Josephine."

The little girl turned at the sound of her mother's voice and looked up. "Mama look. Isn't she pretty?" she asked, holding up the doll for her mother to see.

A pained expression filled the older woman's eyes as she set the plate she carried down on the table. "Yes," she said quietly. "She's very pretty." She turned then to Chantel and smiled at her. "Hello," she said.

"Hi," Chantel said, smiling back. "My name's Chantel."

"It’s nice to meet you, Chantel." She turned then to her daughter and said something in a language that Chantel couldn't understand. The little girl, Josephine, turned and handed the doll quietly back to Chantel.

"We have to go," she said. "Thank you for letting me play with your doll."

Chantel watched as Josephine stood and placed her hand in her mother's and, together, they started walking toward the door. She stared after them, feeling sad inside at seeing Josephine leaving. Chantel turned back to search for her mother but the spot where Nikita had been standing in the serving line was empty. She turned her head again and saw that Josephine and her mother were half way to the door. The little girl glanced back over her shoulder and stared at Chantel and suddenly, without waiting, Chantel grabbed the golden haired doll and ran after the departing girl.

"Josephine, wait!"

The little girl turned to see Chantel running toward her, and she tugged at her mother's hand. The woman stopped and looked back to see what it was her daughter was pointing at. She saw then the little blond girl who had befriended her daughter running up, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes a brilliant blue.

"Here," Chantel said, handing the doll over to Josephine. "I want you to have her."

Josephine stared at the doll then turned to look up at her mother. The woman shook her head and pulled Josephine a little closer to her. "No," she said gently. "That's your doll. Your mommy and daddy will wonder what you did with it."

"No they won't," Chantel said, her eyes pleading with the older woman. "I'll tell them that I gave it as a gift for a friend. Please? I have lots of dolls and ... and --" Chantel looked over at Josephine, "-- I want you to have this."

The woman hesitated, still not comfortable with accepting the gift. It wasn't difficult to see that the doll was an expensive one.

"Please?" Chantel asked again quietly. "I know it doesn't really count because I didn't buy it, but it’s all I have to give."

Tears stung the woman's eyes as she bent down and looked into her daughter's dark eyes. "Do you want the doll?" she asked, and Josephine nodded slowly. The woman looked once more at Chantel, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks at the kindness of the little girl. "Are you sure your parents won't be mad?" she asked.

Chantel nodded her head as a bright smile lit up her face. "I'm very sure," she answered.

The woman sighed, then turned to Josephine and gave her consent. The little girl stepped forward and gingerly took the beautiful doll in her arms. There was a look of disbelief and wonder in her eyes as she looked down at the doll and then up at her friend. "I'm going to name her Chantel," she said, smiling brightly. "To remind me of you."

Chantel smile back at her, feeling happy inside as she watched Josephine turn and walk alongside her mother toward the door, her arm clasped firmly around the golden haired doll. She paused at the door and turned back to wave and Chantel waved back before turning and skipped back to the table to pick up her other doll.

"Come on, Esmerelda," she said, tucking her under her arm. "Lets go get us some cookies from Grandmama." In a darkened utility room located in the far corner, Michael held Nikita in his arms. Both of them had witnessed Chantel's gift to the little girl and both couldn't have been prouder of their daughter.

The End.

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