The Christmas List

by Richard Paul Evans

  Jimmy’s brow furrowed. “What kind of meeting?”

  She hesitated, knowing her answer would make him angry. “With your father and the lawyers.”

  Jimmy reacted as she expected. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “It’s okay.”

  “What’s okay? That he drags you out of bed at his convenience? The heck with him. You just had chemo.”

  “I agreed to the meeting. It was today or next week.” Sara exhaled. “I need to get this over with.”

  “I don’t know why you bother with him. He’s a cold-blooded, selfish . . . ”

  “Jimmy. Stop.” Sara spoke more sharply than she meant to.

  “You know he is.”

  “Don’t talk about him that way. He’s your father.”

  “No jury would convict him of that.” He looked at his mother and felt bad for upsetting her. “I’m sorry. But for your sake, not his.”

  She put her hand on his. “I understand your anger, Jimmy, but I don’t like it. If I don’t make it through this, he’ll be the only parent you have.”

  “Mom, don’t talk that way. You’re going to beat this.”

  “Of course I will. I just want you to think about it.”

  He exhaled in exasperation. “I just don’t get it, Mom. Why are you still so loyal to him? He left you when you needed him the most.”

  Sara looked at her son sadly. “History, I suppose. I know why your father is the way he is. And I believe there’s still a good man inside of him. He’s just lost himself for a while.”

  “How do you know he’s not lost forever?”

  “We all get lost sometimes. The trick is to believe that we’re worth finding.”

  Jimmy smiled ruefully. “All right. Do you need a ride?”

  “I’ll be fine. And you have a plane to catch.” She gently rubbed his hand. “How are the wedding plans coming?”

  “Fine, I guess. Juliet and her mom have had trouble finding a reception center open on New Year’s Day. Everything available is too expensive.”

  “I wish they would let us help.”

  “I know. But her parents won’t hear of it. Anyway, Juliet is pretty much taking care of everything. She’s run me ragged the few days I’ve been here. The tuxedo shop, bridal photos, caterers. I can’t wait for vacation to be over so I can get some rest.”

  Sara smiled. “Juliet’s a sweet girl. And it’s a special day for her, marrying the perfect man. You only get one of those.” She squeezed her son’s hand. “When do you get back?”

  “My last final is on the nineteenth. I leave that afternoon.”

  “We’ll be waiting.”

  Just then a car honked. “There’s Jules. I’ll have her come in.”

  “No, you better run. You don’t want to miss your flight. And Juliet’s going to want every second with you she can have.”

  Jimmy smiled and stood but hesitated. He sensed that his mother wasn’t telling him everything. “Mom?”

  “Yes, darling?”

  “I’m worried about leaving you. I don’t feel like it’s the right thing.”

  “Nonsense. I’m doing fine. And I have plenty of help and the best of care. Just go finish school and come back. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He looked at her a moment then forced a smile. “You better not be.”

  “I promise.” Sara’s eyes filled with tears. “ ‘Bye sweetheart. Good luck on your finals.”

  “ ’Bye, Mom.” Jimmy leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, then walked out of the room. Sara waited until she heard the front door close, then swung her legs over the side of the bed, and, clutching the bedpost for support, got to her feet. She had less strength than she let on to those around her. She could feel herself growing weaker each day like a clock running down.

  As she walked slowly to the shower she thought about the upcoming wedding. She wished that she could be more involved with the preparations but she didn’t have the energy. The truth was she knew there was a possibility that she wouldn’t even be around long enough to see it. Though Jimmy still clung to the hope that she would recover, it was only because he didn’t know how sick she really was. Only Sara and her doctor knew just how far her cancer had progressed and Sara wasn’t willing to lay that burden on her child. She never told him that the treatments she was undergoing weren’t meant to cure her—they were meant to manage her pain and prolong her life. If she could buy enough time she would realize her final goal of seeing her only child married. Then she was done, she told herself, and it didn’t matter what happened to her. At least that’s what she told herself.

  CHAPTER

  Four

  Juliet climbed out of the car just as Jimmy emerged from the house, wheeling his suitcase behind him. “Good morning, handsome!”

  Jimmy smiled as she ran up to him. His fiancée wore a white wool coat and her short blond hair was mostly hidden beneath a bright red wool cap. “Hey, babe.”

  She met him halfway down the walk. They embraced, then kissed.

  “This is killing me,” Juliet said. “I can’t believe I have to say goodbye again.”

  “Last time,” Jimmy said. “Then you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

  She looked into his eyes. “Promise?”

  “Promise.” Jimmy kissed her again. “We’d better hurry.” He threw his suitcase in the back of her car. “Want me to drive?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jimmy opened the door for her, then walked around the car and climbed behind the wheel.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “My dad’s car wouldn’t start and he was parked behind me.”

  “We’ll get there in time. What’s wrong with his car?”

  “Battery or altersomething. It’s old.”

  They backed out of the driveway. At the first corner Juliet asked, “How’s your mom this morning?”

  Jimmy shook his head. “That depends on if you go by what she says or how she looks. As far as I can tell, she’s not getting any better.”

  “Chemo’s hard. It will take time. But she’s a strong woman.”

  “That she is.”

  “I’ll check up on her while you’re gone. I was thinking of asking her out to lunch this week.”

  “She’d love that.”

  Juliet’s face lit up. “Oh, I’ve got great news. Mom and I found a place.”

  Jimmy looked at her quizzically. “A place for what?”

  “Wow, that is so revealing. A place for our wedding, dummy.”

  “That’s great, Jules. Where?”

  “It’s this adorable reception center. It’s a bit more expensive than we hoped, but my mom asked if they could come down a little on the price, and they said being New Year’s Day they might be able to do something. I can’t believe it’s available. It’s the most beautiful place we looked at. It’s just perfect.”

  Jimmy was happy to see her so excited. “That’s a relief. Tell me about it.”

  “It’s in Sandy and has the most amazing view of the mountains. It’s kind of like a greenhouse, so it has fountains and plants everywhere like a labyrinth, you can kind of get lost in it. I think it used to be a flower shop.”

  Jimmy’s brow furrowed. “It’s not Le Jardin, is it?”

  “You know the place?”

  “It won’t work.”

  Juliet’s smile fell. “What do you mean it won’t work? It’s perfect. And it’s available.”

  “My father owns it.”

  She looked at him quizzically. “Isn’t that even better?”

  “No.”

  “Jimmy, I don’t understand.”

  “To begin with, it would mean we’d have to invite him.”

  Juliet was even more confused. “You’re not inviting your father to our wedding?”

  “No. I don’t want him there. You’ll have to find someplace else.”

  “Just like that?” she said.

  “Le Jardin is not an option.”

  “Mom and I have spent weeks lookin
g for a place. It’s the only option.”

  “No it’s not. We can do what I originally suggested and rent the ballroom at the Grand America.”

  “And where do we find the money for that?”

  “We’ll pay for it.”

  She turned away from him. “I’m not going to have this conversation again.”

  “I think we should.”

  “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for my parents? It’s easy for you to just throw money around; my parents have saved for years for this day.”

  “All the more reason my family should pay for it.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. Your parents are being . . .” He stopped himself.

  “My parents are being what? Stupid?”

  “Proud.”

  “They should be proud. They’ve worked hard to give me everything they could. You can’t just take that away from them.”

  “That’s not what I meant to do.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you meant to do, it’s what you’re doing. You have no idea what it’s like to not have money.” Juliet leaned against the door, crying.

  As they entered the Salt Lake airport, Jimmy exhaled. “Jules, I’m sorry.” He reached over and touched her thigh. “I’m really sorry.” Without looking she took his hand. He drove up to the first terminal and pulled up between two cars to the curb.

  He leaned over. “Come on, let’s not leave each other this way.”

  Juliet wiped her eyes. “Okay.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “It’s not just the reception. I know your father wasn’t there for you, but leaving him out of the wedding is wrong. I’m afraid that someday you’ll regret it.”

  Jimmy held her close, but didn’t answer.

  “I just want you to be happy.”

  “I promise I’ll think about it,” he said. They kissed. “We could always elope.”

  “I couldn’t do that to my family. My sisters are so excited to be bridesmaids. And I’m excited to be your bride. You should see my dress. It’s gorgeous.”

  “Like you.”

  They kissed again. Just then an airport police officer rapped on the door. “People, this is an active zone,” she said.

  “Sorry,” Jimmy said. He popped the trunk and they both climbed out. They kissed one more time on the curb. Juliet’s eyes glistened with tears. “Come home soon, I love you.”

  “I love you too. More than I ever believed possible.” Jimmy grabbed his bag and walked inside. He waved one more time before entering the terminal. Juliet blew him a kiss. The police officer walked up to her.

  “Husband?”

  “Almost,” she said.

  “Best kind,” the woman said. “Now let’s save you a ticket and get this car out of here.”

  CHAPTER

  Five

  The Friday the newspaper reported James Kier’s death began just like any other. At six A.M. Kier met Tim Brey, his company’s chief operating officer, for their weekly game of squash. As usual, Kier won every set. Afterward he stopped at the 4th South Starbucks where he drank a Venti latte while he read the day’s headlines from the Salt Lake Tribune, the Wall Street Journal and the Financial Times, then he drove home, showered and dressed. Although he was usually at work by nine, today he had a meeting with a jeweler. He was designing a ring for his girlfriend’s Christmas present: a two-karat marquis-cut diamond set in a wide platinum band.

  Even though there was a private entry in the rear of the building, Kier always entered through the front door so his employees would know he was there. It was not without effect. At his arrival employees stopped their idle chatter and sprang to work as quickly as motorists hitting their brakes at the first sight of a highway patrolman.

  (A reporter once asked Kier how many people worked at Kier Company. He replied, “About half of them.”)

  He passed the front desk and walked down the corridor to where his secretary, Linda Nash, sat at the entrance to his corner office.

  The Kier building was plain by design—a work space built for function not frills. “A picture on the wall doesn’t make me money,” Kier was fond of saying. What decor existed—a few plants and wall hangings—had been put there years earlier by his wife, Sara. Even though it was past Thanksgiving, the office was conspicuously devoid of holiday dressing. Kier didn’t believe in wasting money on seasonal frivolities and made it a point to belittle those who did.

  As he approached his office, Linda looked up from her computer. “Good morning, Mr. Kier.” She was in her late thirties, slender with long, dishwater blond hair that she wore pulled back in a low ponytail.

  “Is the meeting still on?”

  “Everyone’s waiting for you in the conference room.”

  Kier took off his coat and laid it on Linda’s desk. “My ex-wife and her lawyer are in the conference room and you call it a ‘good’ morning?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Kier.” She hung his coat on a coat rack near his office door.

  “When’s my next meeting?”

  “At ten o’clock. Mr. Vance Allen with Scott Homes.”

  “Allen,” he repeated. “Well, don’t talk to him. I want him on edge. And get me my coffee.”

  “Would you like it in the conference room?”

  “No, I don’t expect to be in there that long.”

  He turned and walked away.

  “Yes sir,” she said softly.

  Kier walked down the hall to his conference room. The long polished table of bird’s-eye maple could seat twelve, but that morning it had only three occupants: two lawyers and his wife. Kier’s lawyer, Lincoln Archibald, was a barrel-chested man with a full head of thick black hair that spilled over into bushy Elvis-style sideburns. His sideburns had once been even longer, until Kier, not one to hide his opinions, asked Lincoln if he wore the things on a bet or if he was trying to frighten children. The next time Kier saw him the sideburns had been trimmed.

  Sara had her back to the entry, as did her lawyer, Steve Pair, who was Sara’s nephew and fresh from law school. Kier wasn’t fond of Sara’s sister, Beth, and held her son in the same low regard.

  Kier slumped down in the seat next to Lincoln, quietly groaning to let everyone know what an annoyance he considered the meeting. Only then did he look at his wife. Sara wore a silk scarf around her head beneath a red, sharp-rimmed cloche. Even though they’d been separated for nearly a year she still wore the simple, quarter-karat ring with which he’d wed her on her left hand. She was always well put together, and even though she looked pale her lashless eyes were still piercing. Kier turned away from her gaze. He felt—had always felt—that she could look right through him.

  “Sara,” he said shortly, nodding.

  “Hello, Jim.”

  “You don’t look so well.”

  “I’m fine.” It was obvious that she wasn’t. She was sickly pale and had obviously lost weight since the last time Kier had seen her, three weeks earlier. “We missed you on Thanksgiving.”

  “I was out of town. It was a last-minute thing.”

  “Jimmy was here. You could have met his fiancée.”

  “Like I said, I was out of town.”

  “Shall we get started?” Steve asked.

  Kier turned and faced the young lawyer. “What do you call a criminal lawyer?” Kier asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said, what do you call a criminal lawyer?”

  Steve looked at Kier with annoyance. “I don’t know. What do you call a criminal lawyer?”

  “A redundancy.”

  Steve just shook his head. “Okay, with that out of the way, we’ll begin. Against my counsel, my client, Mrs. Kier, has generously agreed to accept all of your terms, except for two. She would like to keep the piano. It has sentimental value. Also, there’s not enough money for Jimmy’s education.”

  Kier’s grin vanished. “Jimmy can work his way through school like I did. And what does he need college for anyway? He just wants
to paint his little pictures.”

  “Mr. Kier, we both know my client—”

  “Your client? Are you stupid? She’s your aunt. Her name is Sara.”

  Sara looked apologetically at Steve, then back at Kier. “Please, Jim, let’s keep this civil.”

  Kier settled back, crossing his arms and glancing down at his watch. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

  Steve started again. “I have advised my . . . Sara to either get the money for Jimmy’s education or we’re going back for business assets.”

  Kier glared at the young man. Lincoln leaned over and whispered into his ear. “Take it.”

  The truth was Kier neither wanted the piano nor really cared about the price of Jimmy’s tuition. He was a negotiator and the first rule of any negotiation is to ask for things you don’t care about in case you need to bargain for something of real value.

  He exhaled loudly. “All right. It’s his life. Why should I care how he wastes it?”

  Steve glanced at Sara, then turned back to Lincoln. “Very well, then there’s nothing more to discuss. I’ll have the new language added to the agreement and the documents over to you by Monday.”

  Kier stood. “Just get it over with. I want this mistake behind me.”

  Sara looked down, trying to hide her hurt. Kier felt foolish and tried to diffuse the awkwardness. “So, Steve-o. What do you call a thousand lawyers at the bottom of the ocean.”

  “A good start,” Steve said tersely, collecting papers and putting them into his attaché case.

  “You learn that in law school?”

  “Among other things.”

  “At least it wasn’t a total waste,” Kier said beneath his breath.

  Sara stood and walked over to Kier. She held out her hand. “Goodbye, Jim.” Kier felt embarrassed for his comment. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Oh?” she said, “Then what did you mean?”

  Kier looked at her blankly, at a loss for words.

  Suddenly Sara fell backward. Kier lunged to grab her but Steve caught her from behind.

  “Here,” Kier said, pushing a chair forward. “Sit her down.”

  Steve helped her into the chair.