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Her father hesitated. "Where's my wallet?"
Kim wrinkled her forehead, confused. "Your wallet?"
He nodded.
She pulled open a drawer next to his bed and pulled out the worn, brown leather case. "Right here."
"Look inside the top fold there. Behind the credit cards."
She opened the fold and glanced at a worn piece of paper, neatly folded up. What's this?" she asked.
He nodded. "Read it."
She unfolded the note. In large, light script was written:
Dear Daddy,
Because I haf skwandired my alowance, I am giving
you Max for Christmas. Plese take care of him.
Love, Kimberly Risson
When she was finished reading the note, she looked up at her father, surprised that he was sentimental enough to have kept this letter in his wallet for all these years.
"You were six years old when you wrote that. You probably don't remember, but I was always telling you…"
"Not to squander my allowance."
He smiled.
"Who's Max?"
"Max was a stuffed duck that you took with you everywhere. It was a total, unselfish gift of love."
"And you've kept this note in your wallet… ?"
"Ever since."
Kim smiled. Her father was certainly full of surprises. Surprises that she was more than happy to discover.
I learned a lot from that gift… and I've learned a lot from you. I hope this Christmas I can give you something that will mean as much to you."
"You already have," Kim said.
Harold just smiled. He knew what his daughter really wanted, and he had every intention of getting it for her.
* * *
Chapter Seven
"Welcome home, Dad," Kim said, as she pulled into the driveway. It was the evening of December twenty-third, and as Tony had promised, her father was coming home. Tiny white lights glimmered from the branches of the trees.
"Who helped you put the outdoor lights up?"
"No one. I did it myself."
"You climbed up on a ladder?"
