Read The Christmas Secret Online
Authors: Donna VanLiere
The hostess looked behind her and yelled toward a waitress carrying a tray of drinks. “Is there a Christy here?” she asked. The waitress shook her head. “No. Sorry. We have a Lizzy if that helps.”
Jason looked at her in disbelief. “No, it doesn't.”
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I closed the car door and noticed that the woman on the park bench had turned to watch the fir trees being decorated. She was the woman who had stopped me on the street yesterday. She wasn't reading or eating or even talking with anyone. She was just
sitting
there in the cold. I wanted to ask if she'd gone into Patterson's to look for work like I'd suggested but there wasn't time. I took hold of Haley's hand to cross the street. The woman's car I'd driven to work on Saturday was still in the same space I'd left it.
She must still be in the hospital
, I thought. I reached for the restaurant's front door when a young man threw it open.
“Waste of time,” he said, barreling into Haley. She lost her balance and landed on my feet.
“Sorry,” he said, without looking or stopping to help Haley.
“He's fast,” Haley said, taking my hand.
“He's rude,” I said, ushering her through the door.
The waiting area was full as several people crowded the new hostess. I had heard she was going to be starting today. We had gone through a lot of hostesses during my time at Patterson's. She was flustered and seated two tables in a row in Jean's section instead of staggering the seating. Rod probably put her up front with very little training; that was usual protocol for him. Renee saw me and threw her index finger in the air before disappearing to the back. I pulled Zach and Haley off to the side and waited. Renee turned the corner, smiling at me. “Rod's not here,” she said.
“Lucky me,” I said, taking the check from her.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bill. “Here,” she said. “From your table on Saturday.”
The hostess led a party of three past us. “I didn't even take their order,” I said, shoving the check in my purse. “Why would they leave me a tip?”
She smiled. “They just did. That's all.”
I looked at the money. “Twenty dollars!” Renee's eyes were wide. No one ever left a tip bigger than a five-dollar bill at Patterson's and even that was rare. “I'm not taking that, Renee.”
Renee shoved the money in my purse. “You are taking this money,” she said. “Now stop making a scene.”
She tried to make a quick getaway but I grabbed her arm, pulling the bill from my purse. “No! I am not taking this. It's yours!”
“I'll take it,” Zach said, holding out his hand.
I looked at Renee and sighed. “Why would you do this?”
She hugged me around the neck. “I'm just passing it on,” she said, disappearing around the corner.
The hostess gave an awkward smile and I moved the kids through the front door. A car pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant. “It was just here,” I said to myself.
“What was just here?” Haley asked.
“There was a car right here a minute ago,” I said, looking up and down the street. “But now it's gone.” Haley tugged me toward Wilson's and Zach ran ahead. As I walked I watched vehicles on the other side of the square and tried to spot the woman's car. Haley pulled me harder and I gave up, opening the door to Wilson's. Large green and red and silver ornaments hung from the ceiling along with an angel sitting in a snowflake and elves holding brightly wrapped packages. A large Christmas tree sprung up from the center of the cosmetics counter covered with gold angels and strands of fake pearls.
The toy department was on the bottom floor. We took the stairs down and the banister was wrapped like a candy cane. Santa's workshop sat in the middle of the floor. “Oh, great,” I muttered.
“Whoa!” Haley said, jumping off the bottom step. She ran to the gingerbread fence and read the hours on the giant lollipop. “What's this say?” she said, waving at me.
“He's not here right now,” I said, reading the hours Santa was on duty. I noticed he was due in twenty minutes. I didn't want to hear Zach and Haley tell Santa everything they wanted for Christmas, knowing there was no way I could possibly buy half of it. The kids ran through the aisles and Zach picked up a magnetic interlocking building toy and Haley held a Barbie doll in each hand.
“Can I get this, Mom?” Zach asked, holding the box in his hands.
“Not right now,” I said. “Make out a Christmas list when you get home and we'll see.”
Zach put the box back on the shelf. “That means never,” he said.
“Maybe Santa will bring it,” Haley said.
“There isn't any Santa,” he said, pushing past her. I flashed him a look to keep his mouth closed. I wasn't sure if Zach no longer believed in Santa or if he was merely convincing himself he didn't exist because he didn't want to face the disappointment.
“There is so,” Haley said, following him. I pulled a doll off the shelf that sang when you pushed her necklace and I tried to distract Haley with it.
I picked up a box that contained a small piano for a doll and turned it over, glancing at the price: fifty-nine dollars.
For one toy
! I thought. I wandered through the aisles and checked the price on a small princess castle for dolls. Thirty-five
dollars. A large package of pretend food was twenty dollars. I knew I needed to work extra hours at Betty's through Christmas to help pay for gifts. I lifted a heart-shaped box from the shelf that children were supposed to paint and decorate themselves. The thought of leading Haley through a time-consuming craft made my head hurt and I felt guilty for never having enough time or patience. I was reading the instructions on the back of the box when the saleslady's voice at the cash register on the other side of the toy racks caught my attention. Her tone was low but insistent as she spoke with someone and I leaned closer to the aisle to hear what they were arguing about.
“I heard you say âMerry Christmas,' ” a young man's voice said.
“No, I told her to have a great Christmas,” the saleswoman said. I bent low so I could see her through the games stacked in front of me. She was a black woman in her mid-forties wearing a bright red sweater and green sparkly scarf around her neck.
“Same thing,” the man said. “Nobody says âMerry Christmas' anymore. Just say âHappy Holidays' and be done with it.”
The woman was quiet. “Is this a new policy or something?” she finally asked, flipping the end of the scarf over her shoulder.
“No, it's just something you need to do.”
“Who says? Your grandfather?” She didn't give him a
chance to answer. “Because this does not sound like Marshall. This doesn't make any sense. We don't sell holiday trees; we sell Christmas trees. We don't sell holiday gifts; we sell Christmas gifts.” She was on a roll and her voice tightened. “We don't eat
holiday
dinner; we eat Christmas dinner. People don't put out manger scenes because the holiday child was born. It's not
just
a holiday that brings people into this store every year at this time. It's Christmas. No one looks at their calendar in December and says, âOh, holiday is coming up on the twenty-fifth. They say Christmas. So âMerry Christmas' is what I will say.”
“Suit yourself,” the guy said. I heard his footsteps on the stairs and I peered around the toys to see the saleswoman. She was mumbling and fanning herself.
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“There is no Christy,” Jason said, entering the office. Marshall stepped down from his office. “No Christy right now or no Christy period?”
Jason sat down and moved the mouse around to awaken the computer. “Period.”
“Did you ask if anyone had heard of her?” Jason shook his head. “Maybe she works at Lemon's or Betty's. You should have tried those other restaurants.”
Jason rolled a pencil between his thumb and fingers. “Why? We
have
the car.”
Marshall felt something rise in his chest. “The car is not
the point,” he said, throwing stale donuts away one at a time into the trash can. “Have you thought of anyone's circumstances besides your own in the last year?” Jason didn't say anything. “Has anyone's situation brought tears to your eyes or made you think differently about life?”
“I guess,” Jason said, shrugging.
“If you're not sure then you probably haven't. Here's the deal. This woman saved Judy's life and Judy wants to thank her, whoever she is, wherever she works. It shouldn't be that hard.” He threw the empty box into the can with a thud and walked out into the store.
“She doesn't work there,” Jason said to the closed door. “How am I supposed to know where she is?”
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I walked up the stairs with Zach and Haley following.
“Did you find everything you were looking for?” An older man asked me on the top step.
“Marshall! I need to talk to you.” The saleswoman from the toy department was bounding up the stairs behind me, her hands flapping around a cloud of black hair. Regardless of where that man was headed he was now stuck with a woman set loose. I never had the opportunity to answer him but truth was I didn't find anything that I was looking for but had long stopped expecting to discover it.
I wanted to find something to fill the emptiness, something that would drive back the dark and ease my fear. I
wanted to find something that would fight for me the way the saleswoman fought for Christmas. I wanted to find that kind of fierce hope. I took hold of Zach's and Haley's hands and walked to the car. Like my mother always said, sometimes you don't get everything you want. Even at Christmas.
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Jason pulled his coat tight around him and ran across the back parking lot toward the service entrance. Two men were busy at work unloading a shipment and Jason kept his head down as he took the stairs in quick steps, avoiding any conversation with the men as he opened the door. He stopped and turned his head watching them; small puffs filled the air as they talked. One man pulled his winter cap further down on his head, banging his hands together. “Hey,” Jason yelled. The man turned to look at him. “Good morning!” Both men stopped and waited for Jason to say something. “Um. . . . I don't know you guys. I'm Jason. I'm helping in the office while Judy's out.”
“Bill,” the older guy said. “And Hutch,” he said, pointing to the other man inside the back of the truck.
Jason shoved his hands into his pockets. “And you work in shipping?”
“And merchandise,” Bill said, pulling his cap tighter to his head.
Jason repeated their names to himself as he walked through the back door and to the security office. “Bill and Hutch, Hutch and Bill,” he whispered, pushing open the door. A man in his thirties or so spun in his seat at the sound of the door. “Hi,” Jason said. “I'm working upstairs while Judy's out. I didn't catch your name yesterday when you came into the office.”
“Kevin,” the security guard said, spinning his wedding band on top of the desk.
“Great!” Jason said. “Do you know the head of maintenance?”
“You mean Larry?” Kevin said.
“Right! Larry. Sorry to interrupt you.” Jason closed the door and walked through the back hallway. “Phil, Hutch, Kevin, and Larry. Hutch, Kevin, Phil, and Larry.” He stuck his head around the corner to see the toy department and was determined to learn the names of the employees there. He saw the black woman from the day before and decided he'd do that another day. He took the stairs by two and stopped at the main floor. Two women were behind the cosmetics and jewelry counter. “Hi,” he said, putting his hands in his jeans pockets. “I'm Jason and I'm helping out while Judy's gone. I don't know either of you.”
“I'm Laura,” the woman in cosmetics said. “That's Renata.”
Jason nodded and added their names to his list: “Phil,
Hutch, Kevin, Larry. Laura and Renata,” he said, pulling the door open to the office. He searched Judy's desk for a sticky note or scrap sheet of paper he could write the names on but didn't find anything. The cabinet across the room held several office supplies but no paper or notepads. Jason stepped up into Marshall's office and pulled open the top drawer of the desk, sitting when he discovered a small jewelry box at the back shoved behind a package of staples. A simple gold necklace with a small diamond hanging from it glittered against the black velvet box.
“Caught ya!” Marshall said, causing Jason to jump.
“You got a woman on the side I don't know about?” Jason asked, dangling the necklace from his fingers.
Marshall hung his coat on the rack and laughed. “Anniversary gift.”
Jason put the necklace into the box and stuffed it to the back of the drawer again. “This is your safe?”
Marshall shrugged. “Safe enough.”