The Christmas Promise (Christmas Hope)

by VanLiere, Donna

  Donovan ran to the video monitors and shoved the last of the cupcake into his mouth. “Take me to Santa’s toy shop.”

  “No,” Chaz said. “You’re not supposed to be on the floor.”

  “I won’t be on the floor,” Donovan said, prancing. “I’ll be in Santa’s toy shop.” He grabbed on to Chaz’s hand, pulling it. “Come on. Just show me.”

  There wasn’t any point in talking Donovan out of it because he’d just run there when Chaz wasn’t looking. Larry, Carla, and Monique were busy cleaning other areas of the store and didn’t notice Donovan dashing through Children’s Clothing to get to the Toy Department. His eyes lit up when he saw the small red workshop with a marshmallow roof splattered with gumdrops, frosting shutters, and a chocolate-bar door. Lollipops sprang out of the garden around the building, gingerbread men clung to the sides, and the door handle was a giant candy cane. Donovan burst through the door and frowned when he saw an empty workshop put together with plywood and two-by-fours. “Where’s the toys?”

  “Santa can’t make stuff here,” Chaz said. “Look how small this is. He just comes here to find out what kids want; then he sends those orders up to, you know, his elves.”

  Donovan closed the door and sat on the floor, disappointed. “Did you come here today and tell Santa what you want?”

  “No,” Chaz said.

  “If I worked here I’d tell him that I want toys that are fun to play with,” Donovan said, kicking the door open and closed with his feet. “No dumb stuff! And for my mom to get some press-on nails that she’s been wanting. And I’d tell him I want a dad.”

  Chaz wasn’t good at this sort of thing and looked at his watch. “Come on, let’s go. It’s late.”

  Donovan pushed open the small white gate and followed him. “Do you want to play Superman or Spider-Man tonight?”

  “Spider-Man, but only for a few minutes,” Chaz said. “You need to sleep.”

  “But my eyes are still open,” Donovan said. “Look.” He craned his neck up for Chaz to see.

  “Yeah, I know. But they should be closed. You’re just a little kid.”

  “I’m tall inside.”

  Chaz sighed. Why did he continue to argue with a five-year-old? They walked into the security office and Chaz pointed to a video monitor in horror. “The dreaded Snake Eye McQueen is stealing the Housewares Department blind. What’ll we do?”

  Donovan jumped onto the desk and pretended to scale the wall. “I’ll save you.” He jumped off the desk and flailed about with an imaginary culprit before tying the thief up and leaving him in the middle of the room.

  Chaz made him lie down on the couch and Donovan grabbed his hand. “Are you kind of like my dad?”

  It felt like a sock to Chaz’s stomach. How could Donovan think of some guy who gave him a peanut butter sandwich as his dad? “No. I’m nothing like a dad,” Chaz said.

  “You could be a dad,” Donovan said.

  “No, I couldn’t.” Nothing in his life would qualify as father material.

  “Can I always sleep here?”

  Chaz stood at the side of the couch; he needed to shut this conversation down. “No,” he said. “Your mom has to find somebody to watch you at night because I won’t be staying here forever.”

  Donovan sat up. “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know,” Chaz said. “Somewhere, though. I’m just trying to make enough money so I can get there.”

  Donovan turned his back to him and pulled the blanket up to his neck. “My mom said men always leave.”

  Chaz had no idea what to say, so he left him alone. He thought about a beer and glanced at his watch: four hours to go. Carla caught him closing the door. She was wearing pink scrubs for work. “Go in if you want,” Chaz said. “I just turned off the light.” She shook her head and turned to go. “Carla.” She stopped and he wondered what he would talk to her about. “Donovan’s a good kid.” She nodded. Chaz hadn’t noticed how small she was, maybe just a hair over five feet. Her face looked sallow and worn, the circles under her eyes actually darker than the eyes. Maybe if her black hair was down around her face it would soften her features, but every time he’d seen her it was held back in a tight ponytail. “He’s funny and seems really smart,” he said.

  She headed for the back stairs leading to the service entrance. “He doesn’t get it from me,” she said. “He doesn’t even look like me.”

  A metal light with a huge bulb hung over the door, lighting the back entrance. They stood in the silence at the top of the stairs while she smoked. A foggy gray ribbon circled her head. “Is Donovan’s dad here?” Chaz asked. She nodded. “Does he see Donovan?”

  “He doesn’t care.”

  Chaz crossed his arms to keep warm. “How could anybody not care for Donovan?” That came out quicker than he expected.

  She looked at him, and her face softened for the first time since he’d known her. “You don’t look like you’re from here,” she said.

  “Where do I look like I’m from?”

  She shrugged. “Any place but here.”

  “I’ve lived in a lot of places,” Chaz said.

  “You don’t want to be in one spot too long.”

  “Seems that way.”

  She took a long drag and blew smoke toward the light. “That way nobody ever gets to know you and you don’t have to know anybody, either.” He smiled but didn’t say anything. “Where’s your family?” she said.

  “My parents are dead. I was an only child.”

  She nodded. “Do you miss them?”

  “This time of year, especially. Donovan said he wants to tell Santa you want press-on nails for Christmas.”

  She laughed and leaned against the metal railing, blowing smoke up into the air. “Did you have Christmas with your parents as a kid?”

  “Yeah. Sure,” he said.

  “Did you get lots of presents?”

  He blew into his hands. “Not too many. Enough, though.”

  “Like what?” she asked. “What was one of your favorites?”

  He leaned against the door. “I used to love Hot Wheels cars, and one year they gave me the racetrack. I can’t remember anything else I got that year because for months that racetrack was all I talked about.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I took the track to the basement and I put it together in the shape of an oval.” He laughed at the thought. “Oh, the imagination and vision I had! Dad came down and helped me make it into the shape of a figure eight with all the cool ramps and loops.”

  “When did he die?” Carla said.

  “Just a year or two after that.”

  She nodded and inhaled. “When I was little I wished that my old man would come around at Christmas. He’d bring me presents and put all the ones that said ‘assembly required’ together for me, you know, like your dad did. Then we’d eat a huge turkey and he’d play with me all day.” She twisted the cigarette butt into the railing and pulled out another smoke, flipping it up and down in the palm of her hand.

  “Did he ever come around?” Chaz asked.

  She put the end of the cigarette into her mouth. “Gave me a Frisbee. Unwrapped. I was so excited. I asked him to play hide-and-go-seek and he hid behind the couch. I found him right away and then ran off to hide in the hall closet. He never bothered to look for me. I heard the front door close.” She put the unlit cigarette back into the pack. “All my life I just wanted him to notice that I was there. How the hell could he notice me when he couldn’t even pretend to find me?” She took the cigarette back out of the pack and lit it.

  They were quiet as wind carried a cloud of smoke into his face. “Hey,” Chaz said. “I’m not sure how long I’m going to be working here at night, so…” She turned to look at him, taking a drag. “Do you think you can find anybody to watch Donovan?”

  She took another puff and flicked the cigarette off the loading ramp before opening the door. “I need to ask Miss Glory but she’s been busy with lots of people at her house,” she said. “
I don’t have any place else. Once somebody finds out he’s here I’ll get fired. That’s how it goes.” She disappeared up the stairs and he heard a vacuum kick on.

  Chaz peeked through the security office window. Carla had to find a place for Donovan soon. He was getting too close, and that was making Chaz uncomfortable.

  Six

  One learns people through the heart, not the eyes or the intellect.

  —Mark Twain

  As always, Marshall Wilson agreed to help provide hats, socks, and mittens for the Christmas packages Heddy and Dalton and I were putting together. “Any big Christmas plans?” he asked as I gathered my purse and coat in his office.

  “No,” I said. “All my kids are spending it with their in-laws this year. I’ll go to Dalton and Heddy’s. How about you?”

  He pulled a picture out of his wallet and handed it to me. “That’s my grandson. He’s been in Japan at an air base there. His grandmother and I haven’t seen him in two years.”

  I studied the dark eyes staring back at me in the photo as Marshall talked on. “Are you all right, Gloria?”

  I looked at the picture again. “Yes. His face reminds me of my Matthew, that’s all. He’s very handsome,” I said, handing the photo back to him.

  I left his office, thinking. There had been so many faces over the years. A pang cut through my heart as it always did when I saw someone who reminded me of Matt. I pushed through the front doors and dropped my purse on the sidewalk. I moaned as the contents scattered, a tube of lipstick rolling beneath a car. I knelt on the pavement, peering under it. “My favorite shade, too. Wouldn’t you know?” I said, stretching for the tube. “No way I’m leaving Morning Rose behind.” I took off my boot and swiped at the tube, grunting with each stretch. Finally, I flung my purse and used it to drag the tube back to me. I brushed the dusting of snow off my clothes and blew strands of hair out of my eyes. I was way past due for a trim. I felt around my head for the missing bobby pin and pinned the stray hairs back.

  Once I had everything together, I got in my car and pulled away from the curb but stopped when I saw Robert Layton getting out of his SUV in front of his office next door. “Robert!” I said, yelling out the passenger-side window and honking the horn.

  He closed the office door and stepped to the car window. “Morning, Glory!” He laughed, stomping snow off his shoes.

  “When I saw you I realized that you can help,” I said.

  He leaned over to hear better. “What’s that?”

  “If I hadn’t dropped my purse I would have missed you entirely. Don’t they call that serendipity?” He looked confused but I barreled on. “I have a girl who needs work.”

  He pretended to collapse inside the window. “I was that close to my office door and a quick getaway.” He raised his head and looked at me. “The last time I gave one of your girls work she stole my printer, my office chair, and my favorite pen. I’m still not over it. I loved that pen!”

  I leaned toward him. “I feel bad about that; I really do,” I said. “Sometimes they’re ready to make a change and sometimes they’re not. She wasn’t ready.”

  “Thanks for telling me now!”

  “But this girl is different,” I said. Robert opened and closed his hand as if holding a puppet; he’d heard all that before. “She’s very mature for her age.” Robert gestured for me to keep laying it on thick. “She has another mouth to feed and the father is nowhere to be found.”

  “There it is!” he said. “There’s the kicker.” He sighed and waved at someone on the street, thinking. “Is she a big-boned girl? Does she look like she could haul off a desk or maybe the conference table?”

  I slapped the steering wheel. “She’s a petite little thing,” I said. “No bigger than a minute.”

  Robert ran his thumb over the passenger-side mirror, clearing away the snow and dirt, then held up his hands. “All right, Gloria. I’ll give one of your girls another shot.” I clapped my hands together. “I need someone to help Jodi on a part-time basis with phones and filing. She’ll have to answer to Jodi and you know how she is. She’s a much tougher boss than I am. If her pen comes up missing she’ll get a bloodhound after your girl.”

  I reached over to shake Robert’s hand. “Deal! Can I have her call Jodi right away?” He nodded, defeated. “You won’t regret this, Robert,” I said. “She’ll be perfect for your office and she won’t take a thing.”

  He backed away from the car, bending over to see inside. “Promise?”

  “No,” I said, laughing, and pulled away.

  It was snowing when Chaz walked to work that afternoon. Large flakes collected on the sidewalk and he hurried toward Wilson’s. It was getting colder each day. The weather people spouted that it was the coldest weather in ten years and the roads were constantly freezing. He saw Mike sitting in the middle of the town square but it was too late to pretend he hadn’t seen him. He threw up his hand and waved. No matter what Chaz did, it seemed that guy was always around reminding him of how cold it was outside.

  Although it was going to take longer, he chose to walk around the square instead of through it so he could avoid Mike. He kept his head down and hurried for the store. Chaz recognized the guy in front of Wilson’s talking with someone in a car. On several occasions Chaz had seen him going into the building next door. He was a lawyer or something. The car drove away and Chaz crossed the street. “Hey,” the lawyer said. Chaz nodded and walked through the front door. He noticed a girl off in the corner. She was behind the sales rack in Women’s Clothing and her blond hair caught his eye. She kept pushing it behind her ear but it would fall again, and she’d cock her head just so to keep it in place. Fred Clauson stepped to his side and briefed him on a couple of late-night deliveries. Chaz listened but kept his eye on her. She was the most beautiful girl he’d seen since moving to town. He couldn’t see the rest of her body behind the clothes rack, but knew it had to be as beautiful as her face. He didn’t approach her, reasoning she wouldn’t be interested, and followed Fred to the security office.

  Erin walked into the kitchen and opened her arms. “Will this work? I found it on sale at Wilson’s.” She was wearing black maternity pants with a purple blousy top.

  “Work for what?” Miriam asked.

  “I bought it thinking I’d be going on interviews this week,” Erin said. “But Gloria found a job for me today.”

  “It’s perfect,” I said, banging a spoon on the side of a pot.

  “But women who work in law offices on TV are always wearing suits,” Erin said.

  “You’re dressed fine,” I said to Erin. “You’re not going to court. Besides, Robert Layton gave up on suits years ago.”

  Miriam sat slumped in a chair at the table, looking at her house. For days men had been ripping out carpeting and tearing out damaged walls while setting her belongings on the driveway. When she came in each evening she was exhausted and miserable from sorting through the things she had collected during her marriage to Lynn. On more than one occasion I offered to help but it was something she needed to do alone, painstakingly going through bloated photo albums or cards and letters that were blurry with ink and salvaging what she could.

  When she stepped into her home men would escort her back out. “We can’t have you in here,” the contractor would say. “Please, it’s for your safety.” Miriam would charge through anyway, telling the crew how to do their work.

  Early one morning I answered the door and found one of the crewmen looking sheepish. “I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he said. “But would you mind keeping your friend out of her house?”

  I felt bad for him. “I’m afraid that’s like keeping a rash from spreading,” I said.

  There was no expression on his face. “Great. Thanks.” He went back to his work and I leaned out the door to hear Miriam barking orders from inside her home.

  “I always told Lynn I wanted a different house,” Miriam had said earlier in the week. “Now I want it, but it’s ruined.” I tried to en
courage her, pointing out that now she could put up new walls with new color and paper; she could even make rooms bigger or smaller, but if there was a silver lining Miriam wouldn’t see it.

  She moaned and strained to read a stained-glass plaque hanging in my window:

  Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway

  The good fortune to run into the ones I do

  And the eyesight to tell the difference

  She grunted, shaking her head, and I laughed, watching her. I pulled plates down from a cupboard and held them in front of her. She sighed like a horse and stood wearily to her feet. “Don’t be late,” Miriam scolded. “Employers have no patience for tardiness.”

  I rolled my eyes and dumped mashed potatoes into a bowl. “She won’t be late.”

  “And they won’t tolerate any mucking around, either,” Miriam said. “Remember that.”

  I handed the potatoes to Erin while I pulled a meat loaf from the oven. Miriam frowned when she saw it but brightened when I slid a pan full of hot rolls from the top rack. I poured peas into a bowl and handed them to Erin. “Have you told your mother that you’re here?”

  “Not yet,” she said. Miriam sighed, shaking her head, and Erin pretended not to notice.

  I filled three glasses with ice and opened the fridge for the pitcher of tea. “You can invite her to come visit,” I said. “I could fix dinner and the two of you could talk about what you need to do.” Erin was quiet, taking the drinks to the table. She wasn’t enthused about that idea. “When the time’s right.”

  “But the time better be soon by the looks of your belly,” Miriam said.

  I hissed at Miriam and sat, patting Erin’s hand. “Just ignore her. My grandson taught me this. He’ll throw up his little hand and say, ‘Talk to the hand, Grandma.’ So just throw your hand up when she talks.”

  “I can hear you, Gloria,” Miriam said. “I’m sitting right here.”

  I ate my food with one hand and raised the other, putting it in front of Miriam. “Talk to the hand, Miriam.” I leaned close to Erin. “Whatever happened between you and your mother, I’m sure she’s over it and just wants to see you again. And nothing will be able to keep her from that little one you’re carrying.” Erin nodded, moving the food around on her plate. “If you’re open to it, I think you should give me your mother’s name and phone number…just in case something happens.” I reached behind me and pulled out a pad and pen from the telephone table and slid it in front of Erin. After a while she jotted down a name and number and moved the pad to the side of my plate. I slipped the paper inside my jacket pocket and jumped up from the table. “Oh, my! I almost forgot.” I dug through my purse and handed a set of car keys to Erin. “These are for you.”