The Treasure of Christmas

by Melody Carlson

  6

  By the second day “on the job,” Christine felt she was falling into something of a rhythm. At least it seemed so to her. Mrs. Daniels, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy stirring things up a bit by changing her mind about things like how she liked her coffee or the best way to dust the antique furniture. Still, Christine was trying to be patient. But by four o’clock, two things happened that just about undid her. First the deliveryman arrived with the recliner. And that was not so bad, but just as he was setting the rather bulky chair in the center of the living room, Mrs. Daniels’s daughter-in-law, Felicity, showed up quite unexpectedly.

  “Why is there a La-Z-Boy truck in your driveway?” she demanded as soon as she was in the door.

  Mrs. Daniels turned and stared at her. “Well, hello to you too, Felicity.”

  “What’s going on?” Felicity asked when she saw the deliveryman removing the plastic wrappings from the chair.

  “What does it look like?” Mrs. Daniels asked in an exasperated voice. “I’ve purchased a recliner.”

  “A recliner?”

  “That’s what they call them.” Mrs. Daniels glanced over to where Christine was looking on without speaking. “And I’d like you to meet my new housekeeper, Christine Bradley. Christine, this is my stepson’s wife, Felicity Daniels.”

  Felicity moved her attention from the recliner to Christine. “Aren’t you a little young to be a housekeeper?”

  “I’m nearly twenty.”

  “Oh. Well, do you have much experience doing – ”

  “Felicity,” Mrs. Daniels interrupted. “I am the one who hired Christine, and she works for me. I am perfectly capable of ascertaining her qualifications, thank you very much.”

  “Well, I – ”

  “And what brings you here this time of day, anyway? Shouldn’t you be picking up the children or something?”

  “They’re at my mother’s.”

  Mrs. Daniels seemed to stiffen a bit. “Of course.”

  “Well, that’s it,” the deliveryman said as he gathered up a bundle of plastic. “You wanna try her out before I leave?”

  Mrs. Daniels frowned at him, then seemed to think better of his suggestion. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I will.” She hobbled over and eased herself down, tested the leg rest, then leaned back and nodded. “It’s just fine. Thank you.”

  “Merry Christmas, ma’am,” the man said. He hesitated for a moment, and Christine wondered if he expected a tip or something. But finally he just backed out and left.

  “Is that where you’re going to leave it?” Felicity asked. “Right in the middle of the room like that?”

  “Maybe.” Mrs. Daniels smiled smugly. It was plain that she enjoyed irritating her daughter-in-law. Then she turned to Christine. “I’d like a cup of tea, please. The same kind you made for me yesterday will be fine.”

  Christine glanced at Felicity. “Would you like a cup too?”

  Felicity flopped down on the couch across from her mother-in-law. “Sure, why not.”

  Mrs. Daniels didn’t look pleased. “So what brings you by today, Felicity?”

  Christine couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation from the kitchen, but she hurried to make the tea and returned quickly with a tray, complete with a small dish of some chocolate mint cookies she’d spied in the pantry. She set it down on the glass coffee table between them. Then she took her time handing Mrs. Daniels her tea and offering her the cookies.

  “I already told you that I have no plans for the holidays,” Mrs. Daniels said. “What’s so unusual about that?”

  “I just don’t understand it,” Felicity said. “You have this big, beautiful home. And it would be so lovely to decorate it for Christmas.” She pointed toward the staircase. “I can just imagine that banister strewn with evergreen garlands – ”

  “I do not want my banister strewn with evergreen garlands, thank you very much.”

  “What about a tree over by the fireplace. Your ceilings are so tall that you could have a ten-foot – ”

  “I do not want a ten-foot tree, Felicity, any more than I want a ten-inch tree. What is it about no that you don’t understand?”

  Felicity frowned and set her cup down with a clink. “I would think you’d do it, at least for your grandchildren. Give them some memories – ”

  “Felicity,” Mrs. Daniels began in a very stern voice. “I know you well enough to know that it’s not for the children. If I opened my home to a Christmas party, as you call it, it would only be to impress your family and friends. If you want to have a Christmas party, have it at your own house.”

  “But I would do all the work – ”

  “And I would foot the bill.”

  Felicity’s face puckered up now. Whether she was going to cry or explode was anyone’s guess, but Christine suspected by the way she was glaring at her that she’d already overstayed her welcome.

  “Can I get you anything else?” she asked as she prepared to make a hasty exit.

  “No, thank you, Christine, this is fine,” Mrs. Daniels said in a surprisingly polite voice.

  Christine returned to the kitchen but lingered by the door, hoping to hear a few more snippets of conversation. And to her pleased surprise, the long dining room worked almost like an echo chamber. Sure, she felt a bit guilty for eavesdropping, but then, whether they knew it or not, she was actually part of this family. Didn’t she have some right to know about the goings-on here?

  “Well, fine,” Felicity said in a sharp voice. “If that’s the way you’re going to be about it.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, I suppose you won’t want to trouble yourself to come over for Jamie’s birthday either? Poor kid, it’s bad enough having a birthday in December, but I suppose you’re going to let your injury keep you from – ”

  “I still plan to come over for Jamie’s birthday. Isn’t the party on Friday?”

  A few more words were said, and then it sounded like Felicity was leaving. After a bit Christine returned to the living room to pick up the tray of tea things.

  “Looks like we’ll need to do a little shopping tomorrow,” Mrs. Daniels said as Christine loaded up the tray.

  “Shopping?”

  “Yes. My grandson is having his seventh birthday on Friday. Do you have any idea what a seven-year-old might like?”

  “I used to baby-sit for a couple of little boys who just loved Legos. And they collected all these amazing sets, like clipper ships and space shuttles. They’d play with them for hours.”

  “Legos?” She nodded. “Might be just the trick.”

  So, on the following morning, after the basic routine was completed, Christine drove Mrs. Daniels to the toy store at the mall. Of course, the parking lot was packed, and after driving around several times, Christine finally decided to drop Mrs. Daniels at the door.

  “I don’t see why you don’t just park in the handicapped space,” Mrs. Daniels complained as Christine helped her out of the car.

  “You don’t have a permit,” Christine said for the third time.

  “Permit shermit.”

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Christine found Mrs. Daniels waiting at the door, clearly aggravated by the potbellied man clanging a bell as he solicited donations.

  “Do they think they’ll make money by irritating the shoppers?” she asked as Christine held the door open for her.

  They circumvented the crowded “Take Your Photo with Santa” display, complete with stuffed reindeer, elves, and fake snow, as they made their way toward the nearby toy store. The sounds of children laughing and shouting, and some even crying, mixed with the tinny sound of Christmas music being played over the PA system. After working their way through the holiday shoppers crowding the toy store, which was naturally having a big holiday sale, they finally located the right section. And after examining the various sets of Legos, Mrs. Daniels decided on the Extreme Tower building set. It had been Christine’s recommendation, although sh
e hadn’t realized it was so expensive, but Mrs. Daniels seemed happy to think it was her own idea. And Christine didn’t mind. She was just thankful to get out of there before Mrs. Daniels’s mood or energy level deteriorated.

  “Do you mind waiting while I bring the car around?” Christine asked.

  “I suppose I could sit on this bench in here,” she grumbled. “That way I can avoid the neurotic bell ringer outside.”

  Christine smiled. “That’s a good idea.” Then, carrying the bulky package, she jogged across the parking lot to the car.

  “I don’t know what I’ll do about Christmas shopping this year,” Mrs. Daniels said after she was seated comfortably back in the car.

  “You buy Christmas presents?” Christine felt mildly surprised.

  Mrs. Daniels cackled. “Well, I may be a Scrooge about all the trappings and trimmings, but I’m not cheap when it comes to gifts. I certainly don’t want my grandchildren growing up thinking I was stingy.”

  “You could shop online,” Christine suggested.

  “You mean on a computer?”

  “Yeah. It’s really pretty convenient. You can find anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “Pretty much.” Christine waited in a long line of traffic trying to get out of the parking lot.

  “Even people?”

  “Huh?” Christine glanced over at Mrs. Daniels, who seemed to be deep in thought. “You want to buy your grandkids some people?”

  “No, of course not. But I’ve heard you can use the Internet to locate people. Is that correct?”

  “Sure. There are all kinds of ways to search.”

  “And you know how to use a computer?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been using one for years.”

  “But I don’t have a computer.”

  “You could get one,” Christine suggested as she finally made her way onto the street.

  “I suppose I could. Of course, I wouldn’t have any idea of what to look for or where to go. Would you?”

  Christine pointed across the street to Computer World. “That’s a pretty good place right there. My roommate just got a great deal on a laptop.”

  “What’s that?”

  Before Christine could even finish her explanation, Mrs. Daniels interrupted. “That’s what I want too, Christine. Stop in there and let’s get one.”

  Christine grinned as she put on her turn signal. This woman might be a little grumpy, but she was certainly entertaining. Fortunately, Computer World was not as busy as the mall, and Christine found a space right in front.

  Mrs. Daniels leaned back her head and sighed. “The problem is that I’m exhausted from our toy shopping.”

  “Do you want to go home?”

  “Not without a computer.” Mrs. Daniels opened her purse and removed her Visa card. “Here, you go pick out the one you think will best suit me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course,” she snapped. “Just hurry.”

  Feeling a bit strange, Christine went in and purchased the same computer that Brianna had bragged about just a month ago. She was all ready for the high-school-age salesclerk to question her signature on Mrs. Daniels’s credit card, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He was probably just happy to make such an easy sale. The store didn’t appear overly busy, and she suspected the salesclerks worked on commission.

  “Merry Christmas!” he yelled as she carried the box out the door.

  “Merry Christmas,” she called back.

  Mrs. Daniels was fast asleep and snoring quietly when Christine opened the car door to let herself in. Saying nothing, Christine started the engine and headed for home. She glanced over at her silent passenger while waiting at a stoplight and noticed how much softer the old woman’s face looked when she was sleeping. She almost did look like someone’s grandmother. A wave of longing swept over Christine. Suddenly she wished she could tell this woman who she was and why she was here. But then she remembered the old woman’s warning about no shenanigans. How would Mrs. Daniels react to the news that she’d been tricked like this, deceived by her own granddaughter?

  7

  “Do you recall that I said you’ll be required to work some evenings?” Mrs. Daniels asked on Friday morning.

  “Yes,” Christine said as she helped Mrs. Daniels from the shower.

  “Well, I need you to drive me over to my stepson’s house. It’s my grandson Jamie’s birthday party this evening, and I promised to come. And, if you don’t mind, you could just stick around and then take me home afterward. I know it’s an inconvenience for you, but I don’t plan to stay late. Naturally, I will pay you extra. I don’t expect you to work for nothing.”

  “It’s okay,” Christine said as she carefully rebandaged the injured foot. “And you don’t need to pay me extra. I’m glad to do it as a favor.”

  “Nonsense.” Mrs. Daniels firmly shook her head. “How do you ever expect to get ahead in this world if you talk like that?”

  “Money isn’t everything,” Christine said as she finished the last wrap and pinned it securely. She stood up and smiled. “But I’m sure you know that.”

  She frowned. “Goodness, I hope you’re not going to preach a sermon at me now.”

  Christine shrugged as she gathered the wet towels. “Sorry, I’m not much of a preacher.”

  Due to the festivities planned for the evening, Mrs. Daniels decided they would have a quiet day at home. They’d gone grocery shopping yesterday, and Mrs. Daniels was still learning how to use her new computer. Christine had started her out by teaching her how to play some of the card games so she could get comfortable with the keyboard and mouse, and later on today she’d show her how to cruise the Internet.

  “Would you wrap Jamie’s gift for me?” Mrs. Daniels said that afternoon. “There are wrapping things in that high cupboard in the laundry room.”

  “I’d be happy to,” Christine said as she picked up the empty teacup from the side table she’d moved next to the new recliner. “I love wrapping gifts.”

  Mrs. Daniels seemed to consider this as she picked up her book. “I used to enjoy wrapping gifts too. Then my daughter took over for me, and, well, I guess I never really did it much after that.”

  Christine felt an unexpected tightness across her chest, almost as if someone had wrapped a wide leather belt there and then suddenly cinched it. It was the first time Mrs. Daniels had made any mention of a daughter.

  “You have a daughter?” Christine said, hoping to sound only mildly interested.

  Mrs. Daniels sighed. “I used to.”

  “Oh.”

  Mrs. Daniels pulled out the footrest and leaned back. “I think I’ll rest now. You’d better take care of that gift. And see if you can find a birthday card. I keep a box in the second drawer down on my desk.”

  It was obvious that Christine wasn’t going to extract any other information about Lenore just now. So she went on her way and discovered a very nice selection of gift wrap and bows in the cupboard above the dryer. She suspected these items had been there for a long time. Maybe even back when Lenore lived here. Christine selected a blue and white paper with sailboats. It seemed boyish, even if it was a bit old-fashioned. Then she carefully wrapped the box, taking time to neatly fold under the seams and create a large red and white bow to go on top. Not bad, she thought as she carried it into the kitchen.

  Next she went to the desk where she usually sorted and set the daily mail. She’d never opened a drawer before. To her, a desk seemed a private place, and something a person should never go snooping in. As instructed, she pulled open the second drawer down and saw embossed stationery and envelopes and stamps and even some postcards and pretty note cards. But no box of greeting cards. She decided to try the next drawer down. Surely, this couldn’t be considered snooping. But that drawer revealed only some old, yellowed typing paper and notepads with the university logo on them. Maybe the box was in the bottom drawer. She felt slightly guilty as she tried the drawer. She knew she was looking
for more than birthday cards now, but she couldn’t stop herself. The drawer stuck at first, but with a harder pull it came open.

  There, lying face down in the mostly empty drawer, was what appeared to be a framed photo. She knew she should close the drawer immediately, that she had definitely crossed over the line and this would be considered snooping, but it was too late. Glancing over her shoulder once, she picked up the frame, then turned it over and stared in astonishment.

  The pretty brunette girl in the picture had to be Lenore. Christine had never seen a picture of her birth mother before (her father had explained that Lenore had claimed to be camera shy and never allowed them to take even one photo). Just the same, Christine instinctively knew this young woman had to be her birth mother. It was probably a high school graduation picture. And it wasn’t so much that the woman in the photo looked like Christine, although she sensed a familiarity in the eyes. They were brown and big and had another quality she couldn’t even be certain of. But everything else about the two young women seemed to be different. Where Lenore’s hair was dark and straight, Christine’s was auburn and much too wavy. Their faces were entirely different too. Lenore had a sweetly rounded face with a cute little nose, where Christine’s face was more angular and her nose straight and narrow and, in her opinion, slightly too long. Not so unlike Mrs. Daniels’s. Christine heard a sound and quickly replaced the photo, closed the stubborn drawer, then stood up with heart pounding fast.

  She waited a full minute before she moved. Then, walking casually toward the living room, she prepared herself for Mrs. Daniels’s accusations and questions. But the old woman was still asleep in her recliner, snoring peacefully.

  Probably as an act of penance, Christine got out the mop and bucket and gave the kitchen floor a good cleaning. She felt guilty and nervous about her snooping, but at the same time she didn’t completely regret it. Even though it was unsettling to look into the eyes of the woman who had birthed her, it seemed right too. After all, Lenore was her mother. Didn’t she have every right to know what the young woman had looked like? She knew so little about her short and tragic life. Suddenly Christine felt hungry to know more. But how could she find anything out when her grandmother was so reluctant to talk? And how could she go around snooping and still live with herself?