Lost December (33 page)

There was real pain in her voice. Stupidly, I hadn’t even thought about how much spending Christmas Day on the strip would bother her.

“Of course,” I said. “I’m sorry. We’ll go.”

We left the strip and, in a moment of weakness, drove to the corner of Pecos and Sunset to Wayne Newton’s home, which was decked out for the holidays. Then we headed back to the apartment for dinner.

I put the lasagna in to bake while Rachael cut the cantaloupe into wedges, which I then draped with thin slices of prosciutto.

I thought about my father. He, Mary, Barbara and Paul would be done eating by now. He’d probably be in the den talking to Paul. I wondered if he would talk about me. I felt incredibly homesick. I was grateful that I wasn’t alone.

Our Italian Christmas meal turned out perfect. Rachael and Chris both had seconds and Chris had thirds on the lasagna. After eating we watched a Christmas show on television—the one with Ralphie and his Red Ryder BB gun—then Rachael gave Chris his pills and sent him to bed. He hugged me before leaving the room. “Can you come back tomorrow?” he said.

I looked at Rachael. “We’ll see,” I said.

“We have to go back to work tomorrow, honey,” she said. Chris frowned and she added, “But we’ll see.”

After Chris was asleep, Rachael and I went back to the living room. We turned off the overhead lights so the room was only lit by the flashing lights of the tree. Everything was quiet. Peaceful. I stretched out on the sofa with my arms around Rachael, who was lying in front of me. After five or so minutes of silence, Rachael turned around and said, “Thank you.”

Instead of asking what she was thanking me for, I pulled her into me, kissing her forehead.

“You have bad aim,” she said, touching my lips with her finger. “My lips are down here.”

I kissed her on the lips. We kissed for a few minutes.

After we parted, she said, “Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Sweet.”

“Not always,” I said.

She was quiet for a moment, and then she said, “You know you’re my manager now. This is total sexual harassment.”

“You’re right,” I said. “We better stop.” I started to pull away from her and she clung to me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have no idea,” I said.

“Neither do I,” she said. Then her voice dropped. She asked, “Are we going somewhere with this?”

The question caught me off guard. After a moment I said, “I don’t know.”

She kissed my cheek. “Even if we’re not, I wouldn’t change a thing. These have been my best days in years.” Her eyes began welling up and a tear rolled down her cheek. I touched her cheek, tracing the wet where the tear had fallen.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I was afraid I might fall for you.” As she looked into my eyes, I saw the vulnerable little girl inside of her. “I just ask one thing. Please be honest with me. And if you don’t want me, just tell me. Okay?”

“You don’t need to be afraid,” I said.

“It’s not just me. I think Chris has fallen for you too. It’s one thing to take chances with your own heart. It’s another thing to take chances with your son’s.”

“You’re a good mother,” I said.

“I wonder sometimes.”

“All good parents wonder. That’s what makes them good.”

We were both quiet again. A few minutes later Rachael asked, “Do you remember what your mother was like?”

I nodded. “She was good,” I said. “I’m sure my memory is skewed, but I find myself thinking of her as a fifties TV sitcom
mother. She was always cheerful. She’d be there with a plate of cookies, waiting for me to come home from school.”

“What’s your father like?”

“He’s good too. He has a good heart. Some people compartmentalize their lives between home and business. My father wasn’t that way. He was the same man at the office as he was at home. I think he cared as much about the people he worked with as he did about himself.”

“You admired him?”

“I still admire him.”

“Then why aren’t you speaking to each other?”

“It’s all my fault. I hurt him. I ignored his wishes, squandered his money and left him when he needed me the most.” I looked into her eyes. “He said I was dead to him.”

After a moment she said, “Then we have something in common. We’re both dead to our parents. My parents disowned me when I married Rex.”

“Why didn’t they like Rex?”

“He didn’t belong to our church,” she said.

I thought about this. “Now that he’s gone, is there any chance of reconciliation?”

“I don’t know if I want to,” she said sadly. “I think it’s probably too late anyway. They missed my wedding, Chris’s birth and Rex’s funeral, which I’m sure, in their minds, was God’s retribution for my choices.

“For the longest time I hated them. But now I just pity them. In their hearts they’ve consigned most of God’s children to Hell and believe they’re righteous for doing so.” She
looked into my eyes. “They’ve never even seen their only grandchild. Can you believe that?”

I shook my head.

“I just don’t understand that mentality. If I thought Chris was headed to Hell, the last thing I’d do is abandon him. The truth is, I think a place filled with people like them
would
be Hell.” She groaned. “I’m sorry. This is way too heavy for Christmas night. Where were we before all this?”

“You were saying that you were afraid you might fall for me.”

“Before that.”

“Before that, you were talking about how sweet I am.”

“Even before that.”

I leaned into her and we kissed.

How quickly the fantasy of Christmas passes
.

Luke Crisp’s Diary

I woke the next morning exhausted. I hadn’t gotten home from Rachael’s until after two in the morning, so I skipped my usual exercise and stopped to get bagels. On the way there I went to call Rachael when I noticed that my cell phone was missing.
Must have fallen out on Rachael’s couch
, I thought. The thought made me smile. I was excited to see her.

I bought a half dozen bagels with a tub of strawberry-flavored cream cheese and carried them into the copy shop. I was surprised that Rachael’s car wasn’t in the parking lot.

“Merry Christmas,” I said as I walked in through the back door.

“Hey,” Colby said weakly. His eyes were dull and he was frowning.

“Hey, yourself. What’s wrong, run out of eggnog? Have a bagel.”

He just stared at me with a sad expression. “You haven’t heard, have you?”

“Heard what?”

“You better talk to Wayne.”

I set the bagels down on the back counter and walked into
Wayne’s office. To my surprise he was on his knees emptying his desk into a cardboard box.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He looked up at me. “Congratulations,” he said. “You’ve been promoted.”

“I know. We already celebrated that.”

“You’ve been promoted again. You’re the new store manager.”

I just stood there. “Is this a joke?”

“I wish,” he said. “I got a message this morning that my employment has been terminated. I guess they didn’t want to do it before Christmas, so they waited for the day after.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

“It did to someone at corporate.”

“What grounds did they give you?”

“Sales have fallen.”

“Everyone’s sales have fallen. The whole economy has fallen.”

He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. “That’s just the legal reason. The real reason I’ve been let go is that I’m just eighteen months from collecting my pension. Firing me will save the company a lot of money.”

“They would never do that,” I said.

“Carl Crisp would never do that. But he doesn’t run the company anymore. It’s that new guy, Price.” He slammed a drawer shut. “By the way, they also let Rachael go.”

“Rachael? Why?”

“She’s an insurance liability,” he said. “Her son’s medical bills are more than the rest of ours combined.”

“Does she know yet?”

“I called her an hour ago.”

As I watched Wayne fill his box, it suddenly occurred to me what was going on. “They’re dumping ballast,” I said.

“What?”

“They’re dumping ballast. Crisp’s is dropping liabilities. They’re getting ready to cash out the company.” I shook my head. “Wayne, this is my fault.”

Wayne laughed darkly. “Luke, you may have your faults, but this is one even you can’t claim.”

“I wish that were true,” I said. “Henry Price took over the company when Carl retired. He wasn’t supposed to.”

“Who was?” Wayne asked.

“Me.”

He stood, staring at me blankly. I could see in his eyes when it came to him. “You’re Carl’s son.”

I nodded. “I
was.”

“What do you mean, was?”

I raked my hair back with both hands. “My father wanted me to take over the company. Instead, I took my million-dollar trust fund and ran off to Europe and squandered it all. He’s disowned me.”

Wayne stood there silently for a moment. “The Carl I know would never disown his son.”

“I think I know him a little better than you do.”

“No doubt. But I know him better than you think. And you could be mistaken.” He leaned back against his desk.
“When Crisp’s was first starting out, they were quickly expanding into new markets. This location was the first store in Nevada. One of your father’s new managers, a former car salesman, was given the chance to pitch the MGM account. It was worth more than a million dollars a year in business.

“The manager went into the meeting acting like the cocky car salesman that he was. He didn’t even talk about MGM or their needs, he talked only about himself. Not surprisingly, they practically threw him out of their office and gave their business to someone else.

“It was a big defeat for Crisp’s. Your father flew in to personally meet with MGM and then the copy center’s manager and staff. The manager, rightfully, was certain that your father had come to fire him. Instead, your father took him aside and asked him what happened. The manager admitted that he’d handled the meeting poorly. Then your father asked him what he’d learned from the experience. The manager told him, ‘Humility. The opportunity to pitch an account is a privilege. It’s much more important to listen than to talk.’

“Your father said, ‘Good. Don’t make that mistake again.’ Then he turned to go. As he was about to leave, the manager said, ‘You’re not firing me?’ Your father said, ‘Are you kidding? I just spent a million dollars on your education.’ Twenty years later that man is still with Crisp’s.”

“Sounds like company legend,” I said.

“It is a legend,” Wayne said. “But it’s true. That idiot car salesman was me.” He nodded slowly. “If your father stood by me, a stupid, brash, former car salesman, he would never stop believing in you. Your father is a man of integrity.
What’s going on now would never have happened if he hadn’t handed over the reins.”

“I was supposed to be holding those reins,” I said. “This never would have happened if I had done the right thing. Now you and Rachael and good employees across America are paying for my failure.” I put both hands on my head. “How many others have I hurt?” I walked to the door. “I’m going to fix this, Wayne. No one is going to suffer anymore because of me.”