Operation Christmas by Barbara Weitz Page B

mouth shut. The decision to job hunt had been made that morning, so what did it matter?
    That didn’t mean the layoff, as Kurt called it, didn’t chip away a good chunk out of her pride. It did.
    Juggling the box cradled in her arms, Madeleine bumped her hip against the door. She suspected Derek’s smiling accounting girlfriend would replace her. Hey, big surprise there. Fine, let her muddle through the time-consuming year-end close next month.
    She jumped at Jess’s sudden presence. “Let me give you a hand?”
    “No. I’m fine.”
    “You don’t always have to go it alone, Madeleine.” He shook his head at her and took hold of the box.
    Through watery vision she noticed he wasn’t wearing his prosthesis. It jarred her. With the artificial arm, Jess physically appeared one complete man. Two arms. Two legs. Great body. Personality. Caring heart went without question. He portrayed all those things in her eyes except a man missing a good bit of his arm. She rubbed her glove across her nose and worked her way in front of him to open her own truck door. She settled into the warm passenger seat and took the box from him. “Thanks.”
    Madeleine watched his swift movements around the front of the truck. It broke her heart to see the limp sleeve that drove home how much Jess had suffered. He eased in beside her with a blast of frigid air and nodded at the box. “You quit.”
    “Let go. Merry Christmas.”
    “Wanna talk about it?”
    “No.”
    “The plant looks sad.” He ran a finger along the stem and leaf sticking from the box.
    “Not so. The plant’s contemplated leaving most of the day.”
    “I see. Any word on your mom?”
    “Cops. Reports. No one hurt. The car’s banged up but drivable.” She sniffled. “Which is good, since it’s their only car with the Mini out of commission.”
    “See. There’s plenty of good news. Care if I stop by the house and check on Crystal before I take you home? I need to drop off a pizza I ordered before you called.”
    “It’s the least I can do for your picking me up on short notice. I have this best friend, Tiffany, who would have come, but she has a baby and it’s so cold out and I knew you were near...” She heaved a sigh.
    “Had we been carpooling, I’d be picking you up anyway.”
    “True. Then I wouldn’t have been late. Wouldn’t have grouched at mom. Oh no.” If only she had a free hand or two she would bury her embarrassment in them. “And you wouldn’t have caught the brunt of my frustration.”
    “You want me to turn around and pop that boss of yours in the nose?”
    “Yes. Yes!” He put on his blinker. “No. No, Jess .” She giggled.
    “You sure? I will, you know.”
    “Yes, I do know which is why I’m absolutely sure.”
    “Okay, then. We’ll give him a break.”
    She groaned. “I’ve been awful to you.”
    “I got over it.”
    “You just made getting fired fun. Thanks.”
    “Laid off.”
    “A fancy word for fired.” She tilted her head his way it time to address the elephant in the room. “Where’s your arm?”
    He laughed with a deep throaty rumble that made her smile, relieved she didn’t offend him. It had been a blunt question but not a sorrowful one. He cocked an eyebrow her way. “He,” Jess wiggled the limp sleeve, “has been asking that very question today.”
    “Really.”
    He nodded. “Some days I get all these strange sensations. Everything from an itch you can’t scratch to tingling to pain. Damned aggravating. If I take off the prosthesis, it seems to help. Aspirin too, but usually I can gut it out.”
    “Will time heal that?”
    “Maybe. How about you?”
    Madeleine knew the hypothetical question didn’t require an answer, but she heard his meaning and that he understood her dilemma. They parked in front of the pizza shop.
    “Hang tight. I’ll only be a minute.”
    “Sure.”
    Jess hurried inside the take-out entrance. Arm or no arm, his movements were agile and fluid. She might not have recognized