The Gift of Christmas Present Page 4

  “What’s a buck burger?”

  “You know,” Christine waited for the light to turn, “Whoppers for ninety-nine cents at Burger King. They’re not bad, really.”

  “I thought you had worked for McDonald’s. I’d think you’d be loyal to that establishment.”

  “Just because you work someplace doesn’t mean you like it.” Christine hadn’t meant it to sound like that. She glanced uneasily at Mrs. Daniels, worried that she’d make the connection, but it seemed to have floated right past her.

  “Does this Burger King place have one of those windows where you can place an order without getting out?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, let’s go there, then. I don’t want to get out of the car.” She slumped down into the seat.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I just don’t want anyone I know to recognize me.”

  Christine laughed as she turned down the street toward Burger King. It took Mrs. Daniels a while to read the menu and decide on what she wanted, but finally they placed their order.

  “That’ll be seven forty-eight,” said a grumpy voice through the intercom.

  “Seven dollars and forty-eight cents?” Mrs. Daniels peered at Christine. “Can that possibly be right?”

  “It sounds about right to me.” Christine pulled the sleek car forward, careful to avoid the sign that seemed to stick right out into their lane. “Is it too much?”

  Mrs. Daniels laughed. Only this time it didn’t sound quite as cynical as it had yesterday. “Goodness, think of all the money I could’ve saved over the years if I’d eaten here. Of course, their food probably tastes like cardboard and glue.”

  To Christine’s relief, Mrs. Daniels seemed to like her lunch. Although, when they were finished, she complained at the amount of cholesterol she’d just consumed.

  “Oh, I suppose I shouldn’t worry. I’m not long for this world anyway.”

  Christine glanced uneasily at the old woman. “Are you having health problems? Besides your ankle, I mean?”

  She waved her hand. “Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. It’s just that everything starts to go once you begin getting old. Don’t know why people have to grow old, anyway. My two husbands certainly didn’t bother with it.”

  At the La-Z-Boy store they were greeted with Christmas music, and a young blond woman dressed like an elf offered them store-bought cookies.

  “Merry Christmas, it’s our Holiday Blowout week,” she told them in a chirpy voice. “Everything in the store is marked down, some up to 50 percent off, and ready to be delivered by Christmas.”

  “By Christmas?” Mrs. Daniels harped. “I need a chair and I need it now. Can’t I have one delivered today?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” the woman said. “I—uh—”

  “Hello, there,” said a man in a khaki suit. “I’m Leon Myers. Now, what can I do for you today, ma’am?”

  “I want a recliner chair,” Mrs. Daniels said. “But I want it delivered before Christmas. I’d like it delivered today, if possible, or tomorrow at the latest.”

  He smiled. “No problem. If we have it in stock, we can deliver it by tomorrow.”

  “Fine, if that’s the best you can do.” She adjusted her crutches and moved forward. “Show me what you have.”

  “Looks like you’ve hurt your foot,” the man said.

  “Obviously,” she snapped. “Why else would I want a recliner?”

  He chuckled. “Oh, some people find our chairs to be quite comfortable. Now, tell me, ma’am, will this chair be for you or for your husband?”

  She rolled her eyes at Christine, as if to say, This man is a complete idiot. “It’s for me. I need it to keep my foot elevated.”

  “Yes, yes, that’s just what I thought.” He paused by a pink velvet chair. “Now, how about this little number—”

  “I can’t stand pink,” she snapped. “Show me something in an earth tone, please. And nothing too sleazy.”

  He chuckled again. “Oh, don’t worry, ma’am. We have some real beauties.” He led them over to a section of better-looking chairs, which also wore some more expensive price tags, Christine noticed.

  However, Mrs. Daniels didn’t seem to care. She pointed to a nice-looking tan chair by the wall. “I’ll take that one,” she said.

  The salesman laughed. “Without even trying it out?”

  “Why do I need to try it? Aren’t they all the same?”

  “No, no, they’re all different. They’re made to fit various body types and needs. I recommend you sit in it before you make up your mind.”

  “Fine.” She hobbled around the maze of chairs until she reached the tan one. Then, holding her crutches out to the sides, she slowly leaned back and sat down with an “oomph.” She reached for the small wooden handle on the side and after a bit of pulling finally managed to release the footrest. Then she put her head back and sighed. “This one suits me just fine. I’ll take it.”

  The salesman grinned, and Christine suspected that, despite Mrs. Daniels’s demanding ways, this had been one of his easiest transactions of the season. And Christine didn’t disagree with the choice either. Of all the chairs, this one looked the least like a recliner. In fact, the sand-colored chenille fabric was rather soft and attractive. Christine wished she had enough money to get something like that for her father someday. She could imagine him putting his feet up after a long day. Maybe when he was finished with his missions work and she was done with school and had a real job, maybe then she could get him one.

  Mrs. Daniels wrote out a check and inquired again as to the delivery.

  “It’s our busiest time of year,” the woman behind the counter told her.

  “I was promised that I would have it by tomorrow,” she insisted.

  The woman checked on the computer again. “We don’t have anyone scheduled to deliver in your area until the end of the week.”

  “Well, if I can’t have it by tomorrow, I simply won’t purchase it today,” Mrs. Daniels said firmly. “I’ll just go to another store where—”

  “Something wrong here?” Leon asked as he returned to the counter and looked at the woman who had written up the purchase.

  “She wants it delivered by tomorrow,” the woman said in a tired voice. “We don’t have a truck going—”

  “I told her it would be delivered tomorrow,” Leon said, flashing a smile toward Mrs. Daniels. “And we expect it to be delivered tomorrow. Figure out a way to make it happen, Donna.”

  The woman scowled at him, then pushed some more keys on her computer keyboard. “Fine. It’ll be delivered by tomorrow. Do you plan to be home all day, ma’am?”

  “I’m not exactly gadding about town with this bum foot,” Mrs. Daniels said. “Of course I plan to be home. And if the chair’s not delivered by tomorrow, I’ll put a stop payment on my check.”

  “And a Merry Christmas to you too,” the woman said as she wearily handed Mrs. Daniels the receipt.

  Christine couldn’t help but feel sorry for the woman as they headed for the exit.

  “Happy Holidays!” the elf girl chirped.

  “Yeah,” Christine said as she opened the door for Mrs. Daniels. “To you too.”

  “Bah humbug,” Mrs. Daniels said when they were out in the parking lot.

  Christine glanced at the heavy clouds now filling the sky as she unlocked the car. “Do you think it’s going to snow this year?” she asked once they were inside. “I’d love to see a white Christmas.”

  “Good grief! I certainly hope not. I already ruined my ankle from slipping on my wet patio. Now all I need is snow on the ground with these crutches and I could probably end up in a body cast for the entire holidays.”

  Christine noticed a Christmas tree lot as she pulled into traffic. “Do you plan to get a Christmas tree?”

  “Of course not. What on earth would I do with a Christmas tree? Do you expect me to hobble around and decorate it?”

  “I could decorate it.”

 
“I don’t put up a tree anymore. I haven’t since the kids left. That’s when my husband and I began going down to Palm Springs for the holidays. This will be the first year I’ve been forced to stay at home.”

  “So why don’t you have your stepson or grandchildren over for Christmas?”

  She harrumphed. “Not if I can help it.”

  “What do you do, then?”

  Christine could feel Mrs. Daniels glaring at her, and she suspected she’d pushed her too far by asking way too many questions. The old woman cleared her throat, then spoke in a sharp voice. “I plan to do as little as possible for the holidays. I suppose someone like you would think I was a real Ebenezer Scrooge. And maybe I am. But then that’s my business.”

  Christine nodded and continued driving in silence until they reached Mrs. Daniels’s home.

  “Furthermore,” Mrs. Daniels remained in the car as she continued speaking, as if they’d still been in the midst of a conversation. “I have hired you to be my housekeeper and errand girl. I do not expect you to be my companion.”

  Christine felt tears burning in her eyes, but she was determined not to show this thoughtless woman how her words were able to cut. She opened the passenger door and helped her get out of the low car and then into the house.

  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 fe
w 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.