Mom is careful about opening the door at night. I heard how she turned on the outside light and knew she was looking out from behind the curtain. She opened the door, and a man said, “Is this where Leigh Botts lives?”

I was out of bed and in the front room in a second. “I’m Leigh Botts,” I said.

“Your Dad asked me to take this to you.” A man who looked like a trucker gave me a big package.

“Thanks,” I said. “Thanks a lot.” I probably looked puzzled because he said, “He asked over his CB radio for someone coming to this town who would like to play Santa. So here I am. Merry Christmas and a ho-ho-ho!” He waved a hand and walked away before I could say anything more.

“Wow!” I said to Mom. “Wow!” She just stood there in smiling while I began to take off the paper even if it wasn’t Christmas morning. Dad had sent what I always wanted – a down jacket with a lot of pockets, zips and a hood. I tried it on. It was the right size and felt great. Getting a present from my Dad in time for Christmas felt even better.

Today Katy invited us for Christmas dinner although this is a busy season for catering. She also invited some other women who work with her, and their kids, and a few old people from her neighborhood.

On the way home Mom said, “Katy has a heart as big as a football stadium. It was a lovely dinner for lonely hearts.”

I wondered if she was thinking about last Christmas when we tried to make songs about lonely lost shoes.

Dear Mr. Pretend Henshaw,

I got behind in my diary during Christmas vacation because I had a lot of things to do like going to the dentist, getting some new shoes, and a lot of things that I don’t have the time to do during school.

Today I wrote a fake name, or pseudonym, as they sometimes say, on my lunchbag. I printed Joe Kelly on it because that was the name of the boy in Ways to Amuse a Dog so I knew it was made-up. I guess I fooled the thief because nobody stole the chicken in bacon that Katy roasted just for me. It is good even when it is cold. I hope the thief watched me eat it.

Dear Mr. Pretend Henshaw,

Dad phoned me from a town in Oregon! I just looked in my book of road maps and saw where it is. He said he was waiting for a load of potatoes. I could hear music and some men talking. I asked about Bandit, and he said Bandit was fine, a great listener on a long haul even though he doesn’t have much to say. I asked Dad if I could ride with him sometime next summer when school is out, and he said he’d see. (I hate answers like that.) Anyway, he said he was sending the payment and he was sorry he forgot and he hoped I liked the jacket.

I surely wish that Dad lived with us again, but he said he would phone in about a week and to keep my nose clean. He had to go to make sure the potatoes were loaded.

This has been a good day. My lunch was safe again.

Mr. Fridley is so funny. Lots of kids are having their teeth straightened so when they eat lunch, they take out their retainers and wrap them in paper napkins while they eat because nobody wants to look at a retainer. Sometimes they forget and throw the napkin with the retainer into the garbage. Then they have to look through the garbage cans until they find their retainers because retainers cost a lot of money, and parents get mad if they get lost. Mr. Fridley always stands by the garbage cans to make sure kids put their forks and spoons on a tray and not in the garbage. When someone who has a retainer passes by, Mr. Fridley says, “Look out. Don’t lose your false teeth.” This helps them not to lose retainers.

Mom says that I am like Dad in one thing. My teeth are nice and straight which saves a lot of money.

Dear Mr. Pretend Henshaw,

My little cheesecake was missing at lunchtime which made me mad. I guess somebody noticed that Joe Kelly’s lunch was really mine. When I went to throw my lunchbag in the garbage, Mr. Fridley said, “Cheer up, Leigh.”

I said, “How would you feel if somebody was always stealing the good stuff from your lunch?”

He said, “What you need is a burglar alarm.”

A burglar alarm on a lunchbag! I laughed at that, but I still wanted my cheesecake.

Dad will phone any day now. When I said that at supper, Mom said I shouldn’t hope for it, but I know Dad will remember this time. Mom never really says much about Dad, and when I ask why she divorced him, all she says is, “It takes two people to get a divorce.” I guess she means the same way that it takes two people to have a fight.

Tomorrow I am going to wrap my lunchbag in a lot of Scotch tape so nobody can sneak anything out of it.