The Gift of Christmas Present (6 page)

After getting Mrs. Daniels settled comfortably on the couch for an afternoon nap, Christine busied herself by washing the windows in the kitchen. It looked as if they hadn't been washed in ages. And as she washed them she wondered about her birth mother. Had Lenore ever washed these windows? Or had they always been the kind of family to hire out their household chores? Christine couldn't
imagine having enough money to pay other people to do things like this. And even if she did, she couldn't imagine wanting to. Something about manual labor and taking something that was once dirty and making it clean appealed to her. She always felt better when it was done. She realized that this work ethic probably wasn't genetic, but rather a trait she'd been taught by her hardworking parents. More than ever she felt thankful for them now. And more than ever she missed her father's warmth and kind, loving support.

By the second day “on the job,” Christine felt she was falling into something of a rhythm. At least it seemed so to her. Mrs. Daniels, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy stirring things up a bit by changing her mind about things like how she liked her coffee or the best way to dust the antique furniture. Still, Christine was trying to be patient. But by four o'clock, two things happened that just about undid her. First the deliveryman arrived with the recliner. And that was not so bad, but just as he was setting the rather bulky chair in the center of the living room, Mrs. Daniels's daughter-in-law, Felicity, showed up quite unexpectedly.

“Why is there a La-Z-Boy truck in your driveway?” she demanded as soon as she was in the door.

Mrs. Daniels turned and stared at her. “Well, hello to you too, Felicity.”

“What's going on?” Felicity asked when she saw the
deliveryman removing the plastic wrappings from the chair.

“What does it look like?” Mrs. Daniels asked in an exasperated voice. “I've purchased a recliner.”

“A recliner?”

“That's what they call them.” Mrs. Daniels glanced over to where Christine was looking on without speaking. “And I'd like you to meet my new housekeeper, Christine Bradley. Christine, this is my stepson's wife, Felicity Daniels.”

Felicity moved her attention from the recliner to Christine. “Aren't you a little young to be a housekeeper?”

“I'm nearly twenty.”

“Oh. Well, do you have much experience doing—”

“Felicity,” Mrs. Daniels interrupted. “I am the one who hired Christine, and she works for me. I am perfectly capable of ascertaining her qualifications, thank you very much.”

“Well, I—”

“And what brings you here this time of day, anyway? Shouldn't you be picking up the children or something?”

“They're at my mother's.”

Mrs. Daniels seemed to stiffen a bit. “Of course.”

“Well, that's it,” the deliveryman said as he gathered up a bundle of plastic. “You wanna try her out before I leave?”

Mrs. Daniels frowned at him, then seemed to think better of his suggestion. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I will.” She hobbled over and eased herself down, tested the leg rest, then leaned back and nodded. “It's just fine. Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas, ma'am,” the man said. He hesitated
for a moment, and Christine wondered if he expected a tip or something. But finally he just backed out and left.

“Is that where you're going to leave it?” Felicity asked. “Right in the middle of the room like that?”

“Maybe.” Mrs. Daniels smiled smugly. It was plain that she enjoyed irritating her daughter-in-law. Then she turned to Christine. “I'd like a cup of tea, please. The same kind you made for me yesterday will be fine.”

Christine glanced at Felicity. “Would you like a cup too?”

Felicity flopped down on the couch across from her mother-in-law. “Sure, why not.”

Mrs. Daniels didn't look pleased. “So what brings you by today, Felicity?”

Christine couldn't hear the rest of their conversation from the kitchen, but she hurried to make the tea and returned quickly with a tray, complete with a small dish of some chocolate mint cookies she'd spied in the pantry. She set it down on the glass coffee table between them. Then she took her time handing Mrs. Daniels her tea and offering her the cookies.

“I already told you that I have no plans for the holidays,” Mrs. Daniels said. “What's so unusual about that?”

“I just don't understand it,” Felicity said. “You have this big, beautiful home. And it would be so lovely to decorate it for Christmas.” She pointed toward the staircase. “I can just imagine that banister strewn with evergreen garlands—”

“I do not want my banister strewn with evergreen garlands, thank you very much.”

“What about a tree over by the fireplace. Your ceilings are so tall that you could have a ten-foot—”

“I do not want a ten-foot tree, Felicity, any more than I want a ten-inch tree. What is it about no that you don't understand?”

Felicity frowned and set her cup down with a clink. “I would think you'd do it, at least for your grandchildren. Give them some memories—”

“Felicity,” Mrs. Daniels began in a very stern voice. “I know you well enough to know that it's not for the children. If I opened my home to a Christmas party, as you call it, it would only be to impress your family and friends. If you want to have a Christmas party, have it at your own house.”

“But I would do all the work—”

“And I would foot the bill.”

Felicity's face puckered up now. Whether she was going to cry or explode was anyone's guess, but Christine suspected by the way she was glaring at her that she'd already overstayed her welcome.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked as she prepared to make a hasty exit.

“No, thank you, Christine, this is fine,” Mrs. Daniels said in a surprisingly polite voice.

Christine returned to the kitchen but lingered by the door, hoping to hear a few more snippets of conversation. And to her pleased surprise, the long dining room worked almost like an echo chamber. Sure, she felt a bit guilty for eavesdropping, but then, whether they knew it or not, she was actually part of this family. Didn't she have some right to know about the goings-on here?

“Well, fine,” Felicity said in a sharp voice. “If that's the way you're going to be about it.”

“That's right.”

“Well, I suppose you won't want to trouble yourself to come over for Jamie's birthday either? Poor kid, it's bad enough having a birthday in December, but I suppose you're going to let your injury keep you from—”

“I still plan to come over for Jamie's birthday. Isn't the party on Friday?”

A few more words were said, and then it sounded like Felicity was leaving. After a bit Christine returned to the living room to pick up the tray of tea things.

“Looks like we'll need to do a little shopping tomorrow,” Mrs. Daniels said as Christine loaded up the tray.

“Shopping?”

“Yes. My grandson is having his seventh birthday on Friday. Do you have any idea what a seven-year-old might like?”

“I used to baby-sit for a couple of little boys who just loved Legos. And they collected all these amazing sets, like clipper ships and space shuttles. They'd play with them for hours.”

“Legos?” She nodded. “Might be just the trick.”

So, on the following morning, after the basic routine was completed, Christine drove Mrs. Daniels to the toy store at the mall. Of course, the parking lot was packed, and after driving around several times, Christine finally decided to drop Mrs. Daniels at the door.

“I don't see why you don't just park in the handicapped space,” Mrs. Daniels complained as Christine helped her out of the car.

“You don't have a permit,” Christine said for the third time.

“Permit shermit.”

“I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Christine found Mrs. Daniels waiting at the door, clearly aggravated by the potbellied man clanging a bell as he solicited donations.

“Do they think they'll make money by irritating the shoppers?” she asked as Christine held the door open for her.

They circumvented the crowded “Take Your Photo with Santa” display, complete with stuffed reindeer, elves, and fake snow, as they made their way toward the nearby toy store. The sounds of children laughing and shouting, and some even crying, mixed with the tinny sound of Christmas music being played over the PA system. After working their way through the holiday shoppers crowding the toy store, which was naturally having a big holiday sale, they finally located the right section. And after examining the various sets of Legos, Mrs. Daniels decided on the Extreme Tower building set. It had been Christine's recommendation, although she hadn't realized it was so expensive, but Mrs. Daniels seemed happy to think it was her own idea. And Christine didn't mind. She was just thankful to get out of there before Mrs. Daniels's mood or energy level deteriorated.

“Do you mind waiting while I bring the car around?” Christine asked.

“I suppose I could sit on this bench in here,” she grumbled. “That way I can avoid the neurotic bell ringer outside.”

Christine smiled. “That's a good idea.” Then, carrying the bulky package, she jogged across the parking lot to the car.

“I don't know what I'll do about Christmas shopping this year,” Mrs. Daniels said after she was seated comfortably back in the car.

“You buy Christmas presents?” Christine felt mildly surprised.

Mrs. Daniels cackled. “Well, I may be a Scrooge about all the trappings and trimmings, but I'm not cheap when it comes to gifts. I certainly don't want my grandchildren growing up thinking I was stingy.”

“You could shop online,” Christine suggested.

“You mean on a computer?”

“Yeah. It's really pretty convenient. You can find anything.”

“Anything?”

“Pretty much.” Christine waited in a long line of traffic trying to get out of the parking lot.

“Even people?”

“Huh?” Christine glanced over at Mrs. Daniels, who seemed to be deep in thought. “You want to buy your grandkids some people?”

“No, of course not. But I've heard you can use the Internet to locate people. Is that correct?”

“Sure. There are all kinds of ways to search.”

“And you know how to use a computer?”

“Yeah. I've been using one for years.”

“But I don't have a computer.”

“You could get one,” Christine suggested as she finally made her way onto the street.

“I suppose I could. Of course, I wouldn't have any idea of what to look for or where to go. Would you?”

Christine pointed across the street to Computer World.
“That's a pretty good place right there. My roommate just got a great deal on a laptop.”

“What's that?”

Before Christine could even finish her explanation, Mrs. Daniels interrupted. “That's what I want too, Christine. Stop in there and let's get one.”

Christine grinned as she put on her turn signal. This woman might be a little grumpy, but she was certainly entertaining. Fortunately, Computer World was not as busy as the mall, and Christine found a space right in front.

Mrs. Daniels leaned back her head and sighed. “The problem is that I'm exhausted from our toy shopping.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“Not without a computer.” Mrs. Daniels opened her purse and removed her Visa card. “Here, you go pick out the one you think will best suit me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” she snapped. “Just hurry.”

Feeling a bit strange, Christine went in and purchased the same computer that Brianna had bragged about just a month ago. She was all ready for the high-school-age salesclerk to question her signature on Mrs. Daniels's credit card, but he didn't seem to notice or care. He was probably just happy to make such an easy sale. The store didn't appear overly busy, and she suspected the salesclerks worked on commission.

“Merry Christmas!” he yelled as she carried the box out the door.

“Merry Christmas,” she called back.

Mrs. Daniels was fast asleep and snoring quietly when Christine opened the car door to let herself in. Saying
nothing, Christine started the engine and headed for home. She glanced over at her silent passenger while waiting at a stoplight and noticed how much softer the old woman's face looked when she was sleeping. She almost did look like someone's grandmother. A wave of longing swept over Christine. Suddenly she wished she could tell this woman who she was and why she was here. But then she remembered the old woman's warning about no shenanigans. How would Mrs. Daniels react to the news that she'd been tricked like this, deceived by her own granddaughter?