Once Upon a December: A Holiday Short Story Collection by Sydney Logan

ate. Luke would take a few bites, then jump up and play for a while before returning to his plate. Even I could sense that it was probably sensory overload for the kid, and no one was surprised when he started complaining with a tummy ache. My sister-in-law, Haley, simply grabbed her cell, dialed the number to her pediatrician, and within an hour, he was making a house call on Christmas Day.
    There are definite perks to being in the Banks family.
    The initial diagnosis was simple indigestion—too much food on a sensitive stomach that probably hadn't seen a decent meal in ages. Still, we made an appointment for the next day to give Luke a complete physical exam. I listened with pride as my wife went into full Mama Bear mode, asking a million questions that I never would have even considered.
    It’s just one of the many reasons why I love her.
    Now we’re alone, with just the rhythmic sound of his new drum echoing in our ears. Admittedly, the drum is a little loud, but we don’t mind. Luke’s happiness is worth any headache.
    “You really took care of everything.”
    I kiss the top of her hair. “I told you I would. As long as I'm breathing, you'll never want for anything, and neither will our children—biological or otherwise.”
    Megan tilts her face toward mine. A single tear streaks down her cheek, and I gently wipe it away.
    “You have my permission to spoil them rotten.”
    I smile and kiss her gently.
     

     
    The next day is blustery and cold as we drive to the pediatrician's office. His building is close to Luke's alleyway, and Megan and I both see the fear in the little boy's eyes as he watches it pass just outside the tinted windows.
    “I need my lantern,” Luke whispers from the back seat, his voice filled with fear.
    “Why do you need your lantern, sweetheart?” Megan asks.
    “What if it gets dark again? What if it gets cold again?”
    I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and try to hide how much his words break my heart. Megan—always a hundred times stronger than I could ever hope to be—just whispers her promise that he will never be cold again.
    Once Megan and Luke are inside and registered with the receptionist, I decide to go back to the alley to grab that old lantern and look for any clues that might have been hidden in the darkness.
    It looks even worse in the daylight.
    The filth is the least of it. Rats scurry from the dumpster as I walk toward the cardboard box that’s now covered with snow.
    The wind must have blown it in. If I hadn't found him . . .
    “I bet you're looking for this,” a voice echoes behind me.
    I turn to find myself face-to-face with the old homeless man. He’s still wearing the same clothes from the night we met, and he’s holding Luke’s lantern.
    “Sir, I can't thank you enough. I never would have followed the sound of the drum if you hadn't brought it to my attention.”
    “ Sir . It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me that.” He lets out a chuckle and nods. “Little Luke beats on that drum every night, and no one notices. It's amazing what we can hear if we just take a moment and really listen.”
    “How long has he been living here?”
    “A few weeks. Three days ago, his parents went to get food, and they never came back.”
    Bile rises in my throat.
    “They were good people and loved their son very much,” the man says, noticing the rage on my face. “I'm sure it wasn’t by choice that they didn't return.”
    Suddenly, I’m even angrier at the man standing before me. “You knew he was living back here! You knew he was cold and alone, and you did nothing?”
    He looks at me quizzically. “What could I have done?”
    “You could have taken him to a hospital! To a shelter. To the police. You should have gotten him some help!”
    The old man's smiles sadly. “I’m sure you've called the police, and I'm sure they told you what happens to homeless kids and orphans.”
    My blood runs cold. Group home.
    “Still, that would have been