Unwrap these Presents

by Astrid Ohletz

  Donna turned to him, and he held his smart phone in front of her.

  “This was the link you sent me a couple of weeks ago, asking my opinion? I’m sorry I never answered.”

  She nodded.

  “It’s handcrafted, you say?”

  Donna nodded again, and he nodded as well.

  “Huh.”

  She tried to read his suddenly furrowed brow. “Huh what?”

  Alexander handed the phone to Bruce. “What do you think?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Um…what do you mean, what do I think. What do I think about what?”

  “Actually, it’s simple. I mean…it’s made by hand. So…”

  Bruce’s eyes suddenly widened in realization. “Are we talking about…? Huh. I’m not sure if we can manage that in what…two hours?”

  Donna looked from Alexander to Bruce to Owen and then back. “Excuse me, but what are you talking about?”

  Alexander smiled at her. “Saving your ass, the way you save ours all the time.” He turned back to Bruce with a shrug. “It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

  Bruce studied his face for a moment, then turned back to the smart phone. “But we don’t have the photos. If you copy them from the preview, they would be too small to print in poster size. Not to mention that it would be illegal.”

  “When something is handcrafted, a company will usually offer options for personalizing the product. Donna could say that they had a B-version or that she called and requested something special, or something like that.”

  “So, you’re thinking of using your own pictures? That could work. But you can’t just copy some pics from photo stocks, either. Chances are that Susan would stumble over them at some point.”

  “Exclusive shots.” Owen fell into their musings. “In other words—private material.” He peered over Bruce’s shoulder at the display and reached out to browse through the preview of the calendar that Donna had meant to order. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I know more photographers than I have friends, and these are just trees and deserts and rocks. Instagram could do the rest to get that artsy look.”

  Alexander nodded—seemingly more to himself than to anyone else—and drew pad and pen out of his inside pocket. “Okay, let’s get started. We should assign the tasks. Owen will get us the content. Eric and Ridley can do the design.” He scribbled down some notes.

  “If I can get my assistant on the phone, I’ll ask her if she can get us an art display folder like this,” Bruce said, tapping the picture on the phone. “She’s in contact with several galleries. Maybe she can organize something. But I’ll need to know the size of the printings. And we would need someone to drive to the museum and pick up the folder.”

  Alexander nodded. “Do you happen to have a printing press at the museum that can print high quality photos in such formats?”

  Bruce shook his head. “Not really. We commission a printer for everything that’s larger than a simple eight by ten info advert. And I’m sure they’re closed for the night anyway.”

  “Okay. We need to think of something. And we need a delivery boy, too.” Alexander sighed. “Donna, is there much of that paper left that you used to wrap your other presents?”

  “Um…I’m not sure. And we keep the wrapping paper in the cabinet in the living room, so I can’t check on how much we have without making Susan suspicious.”

  “That should be the least of our problems.” Alexander brushed his hand through his hair as he thought. “Okay, priorities. I’ll call Eric, and you…” he looked at Owen, “…get us the photos. Eric will need high resolution files. Bruce, you call Linda. Maybe she can put together samples of art display folders in different sizes, and we choose later. I’d like her to start right away, if she can. If we wait until we have the final sizes of the photos, it could be too late.”

  As Bruce and Owen nodded in agreement, Donna blinked and swallowed hard. “And what am I to do?”

  “You just relax,” Owen ordered as he hit the call button.

  “But I’m the professional event manager. I should totally be doing all that myself,” she objected.

  “Relax! We mean it!” Bruce took a bottle of cream liquor from the counter and set a shot glass in front of her.

  Donna caught herself staring blankly for the second time that evening. Her mouth open, she watched the three men take to their phones. Lacking anything else to keep herself occupied, she took a seat on one of the kitchen stools and poured herself a full double shot of Bailey’s, as she had been ordered.

  Alexander was the first to get someone to answer his phone. “Eric, it’s me, Alexander. Where are you right now? … Oh, shit.” He stepped to the window and looked out. “Drive on. Really, drive by and don’t stop. I need you to turn around and get back to the office.”

  Donna thought she heard tires screeching.

  “Jesus!” Alexander chuckled. “No. No zombie apocalypse but another kind of an emergency. Let me explain it to you…”

  “Linda, I need your help,” Bruce said, covering his other ear.

  “Hi, Mitch. It’s Owen Hall.” Owen was in a corner of the kitchen, speaking into his phone. “Remember Cambodia last June? … Listen, this might seem a strange question, but do you happen to have shot any unpublished photos of the abandoned rice terraces?”

  Sitting amidst the muted cacophony of the worst last minute plan she’d ever heard in her entire career, Donna downed the double shot and poured herself another. Just in case all this didn’t work, she could always escape the “no gift” fallout by passing out. Now and then her mind registered snatches of the hasty calls surrounding her.

  “Send them via express messenger. They can send the invoice to my private address.”

  “I’ll take them all—every photo that has no people in it and screams out ‘natural.’”

  “Does your college happen to have a printing press? … No? Thank you anyway.”

  When the kitchen door suddenly swung open, there was instant silence as the men awkwardly hid their phones. Donna shook her head, actually surprised that nobody started whistling in feigned innocence.

  It was Phineas, and Bruce was the first to exhale.

  “The mob is growing hungry. I’m supposed to ask when we can start the buffet.” He took a close look at the four occupants and frowned. “Um… What’s going on in here?”

  Alexander laid his hand on Phineas’ shoulder and drew him closer. “Phineas, good that you’re here.” With a knowing smile, he looked down at the young man whose head didn’t even reach to the middle of his chest. “Go, tell them, that the buffet will begin in a few minutes. Then fetch my brother and Seth—inconspicuously!—and come back here. We need your type.”

  “A blond?” Phineas asked, a curious look on his face.

  “A bumbler.”

  Phineas brow was still furrowed as he was gently shoved out of the kitchen, but he didn’t comment or ask questions.

  “Julius, too?” Donna asked, her eyes wide.

  A grim expression on his face, Alexander nodded. “Unfortunately, we need his type as well.”

  Bruce chuckled as he looked up at Alexander. “A well-built guy?”

  Alexander shrugged. “An alpha.”

  * * *

  “Okay, is everybody clear on what they’re supposed to do?”

  Donna studied the faces of the six conspirators gathered around her kitchen island like generals around the map of a combat area, all staring with more or less comprehension at Alexander’s scribbled notes.

  After a moment, Julius shook his head and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “No, I’m not clear. Not really.”

  His brother suppressed a sigh. “How come I knew that you would say that?”

  Julius shrugged. “Maybe because your little plan isn’t as ‘Danny Ocean worthy’ as you think.”

  Alexander straightened to his full height, towering over his brother. “Got a better idea?”

  “Boys!” Donna interjected. “Could you save your pissing m
atch over Seth for another holiday? You have work to do for me!”

  “She’s right,” Bruce hurriedly agreed. “We all know and all agree. You, Alexander, lost, but you’re absolutely entitled to be mad at your brother. You, Julius, didn’t play fair and should still feel ashamed. But not tonight. And after all, Seth’s virginity was lost years before either one of you knew him, so why still bother with claiming rights?”

  “Excuse me!” Seth blurted, but his expression was more amused than indignant.

  Bruce raised his hands in surrender. “No offense, just saying! We have important things to do, and we can’t waste time talking through that same old issue between you two.”

  “They’re right,” Julius admitted.

  Donna thought his tone was a bit grudging, as though he was reluctant not to press his “claim” on Seth, but she wisely stayed silent.

  “Yes, they are,” Alexander commented through gritted teeth. After another moment of staring Julius down, he took a deep breath. “So, would you like to ask a question, or make a suggestion?”

  Instead of making another snarky comment, Julius took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Let me see if I have this clear. I drive to the printing office with the paper Donna will give me. There I will hopefully meet my son. It will look the least suspicious to Susan if I am the one to take care of that because I’m the one who’s always on the go, and also because I have the connection to the printer. We will print the photos on the specialty paper in the poster-sized calendar design that Eric will bring along on a USB stick. Then I drive to the museum, where Linda is waiting for us in Bruce’s office. We’ll carefully tuck the calendar pages into one of the art display folders, ask Linda nicely if she can wrap it up for us in a feminine, artistic way, then drive back here. Before I come in, I call so you can create a rear diversion while we smuggle the gift under the tree. All this, totally unnoticed by the en—um…Susan. Does that about cover it?”

  “Wasn’t that difficult to understand after all, was it?” Alexander praised. “We’ll start the buffet now, and all move over to the living room and have a bite. After twenty minutes or so, Bruce and I will retreat back here to base camp to work on the frame design.” He looked at Phineas. “You and Seth make sure that Susan doesn’t come into the kitchen while we’re working. But first, you’ll help Donna get that roll of paper. Gentlemen, boys, Donna,” he tried to keep a serious look on his face, but couldn’t suppress a grin, “Operation Jingle Bells has begun. Good luck!”

  * * *

  Donna took one last deep breath, then went into the dining room with a bowl of meat sauce. Seth followed her with another full of pasta, while Julius carried the plates.

  “Dinner is ready!” Donna announced with a bright smile to the guests still in the living room, and then she rushed back into the kitchen to get another pot of sauce. When she returned, she watched from the corner of her eye as Julius went to Susan on the sofa, reached for her hand, and gently pulled her to her feet.

  “Susan, dear, the security agency called,” Julius said. “An alarm has gone off in the factory. I’m afraid I need to go down there and make sure everything’s okay.”

  “Now?” Susan’s mouth twitched, but she didn’t look surprised.

  “It shouldn’t take too long. We had a false alarm only last week. Turned out to be a raccoon.”

  Susan sighed. “Well, okay. But drive carefully, will you?”

  “Aye, captain.” Julius nodded. “Oh, by the way, we forgot to bring Seth’s migraine pills, and his head is killing him. Do you think you could give him one of yours?” Having set the stage for Seth’s diversion, he went back to the kitchen.

  Susan turned and studied Seth, who was about to sit down at the end of the dining table. “So, the stress of Christmas has gotten to you, too?” she said with a worried smile.

  Seth shrugged. “Kinda. But no need to tell you about that, huh?”

  Susan shook her head. “Do you need just regular painkillers, or the heavy duty stuff?”

  For a moment, Seth hesitated, and Donna could see how he struggled not to turn to her for a clue. “Um…the heavy duty, please.”

  Donna cursed inwardly, knowing Susan kept her migraine pills in several spots all over the house, so that she didn’t have to go upstairs in a case like this. She might not even have to leave the room, and there went the plan.

  Rupert joined them at the table, and now looked at Seth with a sympathetic smile. “Migraine?”

  Seth nodded, making an agonized face.

  “We didn’t know we both suffer from migraine attacks until Abby had her first one.” Susan sighed and stroked her belly. “That’s why we decided that Julius would be the biological dad in this round.”

  She went to the cabinet, opened a drawer, and pulled out a blister pack that she handed to Seth.

  “Just stay. I’ll get you some water.” Susan smiled at him and then went towards the kitchen.

  Seth turned to Donna, who could only stare back in alarm. Seth’s head shot back around to Susan. When Phineas appeared in the kitchen doorway, balancing the last bowl of sauce in his hands, Seth nodded at him and tilted his head toward Susan, mouthing, “Stop her!”

  Donna saw Phineas’ expression turn from “How?” to “Oh, no!” in less than half a second as Susan reached the door.

  Phineas closed his eyes, the mental sigh clearly visible on his face. With a turn of his hip, he stepped aside to let Susan pass, bumped his elbow on the door frame, jerked in sudden pain, and tumbled half a step forward—directly into Susan.

  “I’m sorry,” Phineas exhaled, a millisecond too early.

  “Whoosh” went the cheese sauce as it flew from the now half-empty bowl.

  “Huuuh,” Susan heaved, as the warm, creamy mass splattered on her blouse.

  Seth was the first to move. He was at her side in no time. “Whoa, Susan, you okay?” He grabbed a napkin from the table to mop at the dripping, then he took her hand. “Come, I’ll help you wash that out.” He gently drew her out of the room, towards the staircase.

  The last thing Donna saw of them was Seth’s hand waving behind Susan’s back, gesturing for her to hurry up and retrieve the paper.

  Rupert took a handful of napkins to help Phineas clean up the floor for the second time that evening; Lailani tried hard not to dissolve in laughter. Seymour looked up from the CD case he had been studying, and glanced from one to the other. He obviously had no idea what had been going on.

  Donna pulled herself together and hurried to the cabinet. “Here, I have more napkins,” she said, snatching them out of the cabinet along with the roll of silver and blue paper, and handing them to Rupert in passing. With the gift wrap pressed close against her, she rushed into the kitchen.

  “Got it,” she breathed as she handed the roll to Julius. “Your turn. By the way, Bruce, your boyfriend is a genius!”

  Bruce wore a mix of pride and worry in the expression on his face. “Nobody’s seriously hurt, right?”

  Donna grinned and shook her head, while Julius slipped into his jacket and Alexander whipped out his phone with a smirk.

  “Eric? Rudolph is ready for take-off. Talk to you soon.”

  * * *

  Donna checked her watch. So far, the plan had worked well, with Bruce and Eric exchanging their data in a constant flow, and Alexander coordinating the moves of his chessmen throughout the city. But with every minute passing, she grew more nervous. When Alexander’s phone rang, she jumped.

  It was a brief call.

  “The Three Kings of the East have arrived.” He touched her shoulder. “It’s time for the final strike. Ready when you are, Donna.”

  She took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure what she felt more nervous about—that they had to smuggle a poster-sized calendar past Susan, or that Alexander had said he would improvise the diversionary maneuver. She went into the living room and stood close to her wife.

  “Susan?” She smiled apologetically at Bruce, who had been engaging Susan in convers
ation to provide a distraction. “Sorry to interrupt, but could you come with me for a second?” She feigned a look of concern. “It’s about Alexander.”

  “Oh God, what is it this time?” Susan said, alarmed, but she got up from the couch.

  “I don’t know. He said he wants to talk to you.” Donna’s lips twitched as she suppressed a tell-tale grin. “But he’s making his sad face.”

  “The brood of doom?”

  “No. It’s more the ‘my man pain has heartache’ sort of face.”

  Susan couldn’t make a remark about that, as they were at the kitchen door. Alexander sat hunched over the island, his shoulders sagging, his fingers playing absently with an empty glass.

  Susan’s annoyance instantly turned to worry. “Hey, what’s going on here?”

  Alexander made a show of lifting his head ever so slowly, but even Donna was taken aback when he looked up at them with reddened eyes. She wondered how he had accomplished that.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “There you are.”

  “Have you been crying?!” Susan moved close to him and laid her small hand on his. “What’s wrong, huh?”

  Donna moved to his other side, which put her next to the window. She could see Julius, Eric, and Ridley waiting by their cars. With a triumphant smile, Eric held up a large package. Donna nodded, which was the signal for Alexander.

  “I’m…” Alexander’s voice cracked.

  “Is it about…” Susan nodded towards the living room, where Lewis had been talking to everybody except Alexander all evening.

  “No.” He shook his head, and tears spilled from his eyes. “Not at all. It’s just, I’m…”

  “Hey, we’re back.” Julius’ voice came from the hall, as they had planned.

  Before Susan could react, Alexander plunged forward and pulled Susan into a tight hug. “I’m just so happy for the four of you!” he burst out, crying shamelessly into Susan’s hair. “I mean…I always wanted a family myself, and now I’ll be the uncle of three. And this time I’ll have the chance to be there right from the start. It’s all so…overwhelming!”