Merry's Christmas: A Love Story
Page 3
Mouthing a quick thank you, Merry shoved her loan application into her bag and skidded up to Daniel’s desk. In fact, she got there so quickly that she had to put her hands down to slow her momentum and stop her from crashing right into it.
“Could I possibly persuade you to cancel that ad you just placed?” Merry gasped.
Daniel looked up. “Do I know you?” he asked.
“I’m Merry Hopper. M-E-R-R-Y as in Merry Christmas, which is perfect because I really, really want that job.” There. She’d said it with total conviction, knowing it was completely true.
Daniel smiled in a way that said he remembered her from their first encounter. “Merry. Oh, right. Aren’t you the one who—”
“—spilled coffee all over you? Yes,” she admitted. “That would be me. So, could I buy you a cup to actually drink this time?”
Life could change on a dime, Merry thought. One moment she could be completely down and out and the next, before she could even get her balance, she could be whip-lashed into what seemed to be an absolute miracle.
Merry reflected upon how quickly it had happened. Not ten minutes before she’d been ready to mortgage her future. Now, she was sitting at an upscale café, living in the possibilities. Merry watched as Daniel ordered his coffee from an uptown waiter. It was a far cry from the place where she worked.
“Espresso. Black,” Daniel said. Then turning to Merry, he assured, “And this is my treat. Would you like anything?”
“Just to give your family the best Christmas ever,” she beamed.
The fancy waiter nodded, bowing almost imperceptibly as he left, the way no one ever bowed at the Downtown Diner.
Daniel turned to Merry. “So, it’s not huge...I have three children: twin girls, almost sixteen, a nine year-old son. There’s my mother, who helps out with meals and such since my wife passed.”
Immediately feeling for him, Merry interjected. “Oh, I’m sorry. So, your mother lives with you?”
“Practically. But no, she has very nice condo down the block.”
Merry smiled. “Must be great to have her so close.”
“Yes, well, she’d be very much included,” Daniel went on, maintaining a professional tone. “May I ask, what kind of experience do you have for this kind of thing?”
Yikes, Merry thought. There it was, that gulpy moment. There was the temptation to embellish. But if this was the miracle it seemed to be, Merry knew she would come by it honestly. “I don’t have any actual experience for this. So, none.”
Daniel looked at her quizzically, prompting her to continue.
“But that’s what makes me perfect for this job. I’ve been dreaming of throwing a family Christmas all my life. I just never had the family to do it for.”
Daniel sat back cautiously. “I take it you’re not bonded. I’d be setting up a dedicated account for my coordinator to draw upon for expenses.”
“Arthur, he runs the diner where I work. He’ll vouch for me,” Merry assured. “I never stole so much as a single penny in all my life.”
Shaking his head unconsciously, Daniel back-peddled. “Yes, well...”
“I won’t lie, Mr. Bell,” Merry promised. “I don’t just want this job. Truth is, I really, really need it.”
Daniel studied Merry for a moment, visibly torn by the decision.
As the waiter arrived with Daniel’s promised coffee, Merry rose and stuck out her right hand. She knew that the practice of shaking another person’s hand had fallen somewhat out of fashion, what with all the germs going around. Still, Merry responded to the urge to end things on a personal note. She knew she had little in terms of technical qualifications, but giving things a special touch was her forté. So, she shook the hand he extended warmly before turning to leave.
Merry stepped out into the brisk early December wind. She filled her lungs and left the café, quietly ecstatic. It wasn’t an immediate yes—not by a long shot—but it also hadn’t been an instant no, a fact that didn’t escape her relentlessly hoping heart. This, she encouraged herself, was a definite maybe. There was a whisper of a chance, and Merry knew it. She had gotten her foot barely into this door and the windows of possibility had blown open.
three
Arthur hoisted a sack of bread flour onto his stock room shelf. Merry lingered nearby. In a way, Arthur enjoyed her attention. He knew Merry wasn’t standing there because she’d heard anything about the Christmas Coordinator position yet. He’d seen her squeak back into the diner moments before her lunch break was over. There had been no jubilant announcement about this pipe dream of a job she’d spoken of actually coming true.
Arthur decided that, for once, he wouldn’t make this easy for her, the way he usually did. Why should he? He was the one who’d been there for her all these years. He was the constant in her life. He would make her work for his attention for a change. He’d keep futzing around, unloading cans, and straightening shelves. He’d pretend to only halfway listen. It was hard not to let himself look at her, so he reminded himself that he shouldn’t. One glimpse of those sparkling green eyes or those dimples in her cheeks and his heart would turn completely to mush.
“Three weeks, Arthur,” Merry posed.
“At least four,” Arthur returned. “What goes up for Christmas must come down after.”
“Okay, four. And it’s not even full time. I can still work part time here.”
“If he even offers it. I say you’re outta your league, Merry.”
“Christmas is my league!” Merry enthused.
Finally, Arthur stopped what he was doing. He hazarded a glance in Merry’s general direction, fighting to maintain his resolve. He pointed out to the floor of his establishment. In an instant, he felt his ears turn scarlet, the way they always did whenever he got worked up over anything.
“Ever see them rich people in this diner?” he spat out. “No. They’re uptown in cafés and fancy schmancy restaurants charging more than you and me make all day.”
“Artie, this is my time,” Merry implored. “I know it. This is my Christmas. So, would you please just roll with me on this?”
Arthur mulled it over, hesitantly. He ran a tired hand through his thinning hair as Kiki stepped into the fray. He saw Kiki plant herself, put her hands on her hips, and burn him with the kind of look that only Kiki could give.
“You don’t let Merry do this, then I quit,” Kiki vowed. “Either way you’re way up a holiday creek.”
Arthur knew when he was outgunned. Merry had always been a good waitress, but Kiki was a great one. She’d been serving the Downtown Diner’s customers since the very beginning. He couldn’t afford to lose Kiki, not in this economy, and certainly not during the upcoming holiday rush. “All right, I give. Fine,” Arthur conceded. “So, get out there and get cracking!”
Merry gave Arthur an exuberant kiss on the cheek and scurried back out toward the restaurant’s service floor.
Arthur sighed dejectedly as she left. Everything in him wanted to read something more than the flush of excitement into Merry’s burst of affection, though he knew deep down that he shouldn’t.
Kiki softened. “Can’t lose what you don’t have.”
Arthur watched Merry from the kitchen. She was already back wiping the counter, charming his customers, obviously elated about the possibilities. “She don’t have that job yet,” he insisted to Kiki. “Think I want to see her crushed? Best she face up and get on with it.”
Kiki shook her head with a grin. She could reach him like no one else could.
“Artie, you’re something,” she teased. “You think you’re some kind of Oprah, don’t you? Well, maybe folks’ll start listening to all them pearls when you start listening to yourself.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Catherine searched her purse as she exited Strong Bank & Trust with Daniel. She enjoyed having him back on her arm. It wasn’t that she’d felt threatened in any way when she’d seen him step out for coffee with Merry. From her vantage point at the top of the mezzanine s
tairs, Merry had seemed waifish at best. Her uniform and worn sensible shoes had done absolutely nothing for her appearance.
Just as soon as he’d returned, Daniel had been careful to explain to her that Merry had just wanted to talk to him about the Christmas Coordinator position, and that qualifications hadn’t so much been her strong suit.
It was a mercy interview, Catherine intuited. Even if it hadn’t been, she couldn’t imagine that there would be a problem. Still, something inside her hoped Daniel would go another way.
Catherine fished a ticket stub out of her bag. She handed it to the valet, then turned to Daniel. “If you’re looking for someone more seasoned to coordinate, I have a great service I’ve used. They’re very professional,” she promised. “They’d take care of everything, first class all the way.”
“Thanks, but...I’m still mulling it over,” Daniel replied. “She’s a little green, but...it might work out with the kids. I don’t know.”
Catherine was pleased to have come prepared. She went back into her designer clutch and found a business card. She extended it to Daniel as offhandedly as she could. “Well, here’s the service, in case. Ask for Philippe. Tell him you’re with me and he’ll clear his calendar.”
Daniel accepted the card with a smile. “I like the sound of that—saying I’m with you.” He put his arm around her waist, making her glad she’d worked so hard on it with her trainer.
“Do you, now?” she coyly replied.
Daniel maintained a pleasant, nonchalant air. “Perhaps it’s no surprise, but...I do have intentions toward you, Catherine.”
Catherine took it in, making her designs upon him every bit as clear. “Good to know.”
♥ ♥ ♥
It had been easy for Merry to wait through the night. A man like Daniel wouldn’t be rash, she reasoned. He would probably sleep on the decision. Merry had said her prayers. She’d nodded off, blissful at the events of the day. For hours she’d slept soundly, that was, until she heard the slap of Mr. Grabinski’s newspaper being flung onto the stoop at 4:30 a.m.
For a long while, Merry resisted crawling out from beneath the covers. She tried to have faith that the best would come to be. But by five, she found herself padding down the stairs of the walk-up, dressed in her terry robe and slippers.
Carefully, Merry pulled out the classifieds and stood under the yellowed lantern by the door. She turned the pages and scanned the Help Wanted ads meticulously, searching for any sign of whether or not Daniel had gone ahead and posted his ad after meeting her.
There was nothing. Merry breathed relieved sigh.
By the time Merry got to the Downtown Diner later that morning, Skeeter was standing by the newspaper machine, counting what little change had been tossed into his cup. She liked the way his weathered face brightened whenever he saw her round the corner with a brown bag in her hand. Merry figured it was an even trade for the fact that Arthur always kept her fed when things slowed down at the diner. So, as often as she could, she brought a bag lunch for Skeeter. Inside, there would be his favorite tuna sandwich and some of those cheesy puffs that made his chocolate-brown fingers turn orange. A juice box would wash it all down to soothe his growling stomach.
“Hi, ya, Skeeter, “ Merry grinned. She handed him the sack. “God bless you.”
“He does,” Skeeter nodded. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”
As Merry entered the diner’s door, a little bell rang. A yellowed plastic Santa at the register leaned back mechanically, then bobbed up and down with a raspy sort of ho-ho-ho. She shot a look at Arthur.
Arthur glanced up from the grill. A sheepish curl formed on his lips. “Yeah, I figured it was time to coordinate a little Christmas around here, too.”
Relieved not to have to broach the subject, Merry seized the opportunity. “Did he call yet?”
“Nope,” Arthur replied. “But we got a bus load of blue hairs coming for a birthday party. So, get hopping, Hopper.”
Merry kicked into gear. “Be right back,” she promised before she spun right into Kiki, whose empty tray went flying. “Sorry!” she called, retrieving Kiki’s tray.
Arthur opened his mouth to comment, but Kiki intervened. “You hush, now.”
Arthur recoiled. “Who you telling—”
“Shoosh,” Kiki ordered as she accepted the tray back from Merry. “Just you think about it first with your smart self. What would Oprah do?”
It had been a long day for Merry. There had been no call about the Christmas Coordinator job, even a quick buzz just to check Arthur as a reference. Arthur hadn’t mentioned it. He didn’t have to. With each passing hour, it had become harder for Merry not to give into disappointment.
The diner was closed for the night. Business hours were over. Still, Merry dove to answer when the phone rang.
“Arthur’s.” Once again, Merry’s face fell. “No, Arthur’s as in the Downtown Diner...Okay, bye.” Merry sighed as she hung up, with a sheepish glance toward Arthur.
“You always got your job here,” Arthur reminded.
“Thanks. You know, just because I wanted that temp job doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate what I’ve got.”
Suddenly, the phone rang again. Merry started for it, but Arthur put up a hand to stop her. He picked it up himself.
“Arthur’s...Yeah, you got him.”
Merry caught her breath. Her fading ember of hope burst back into flame.
Arthur shooed Merry away. “Yeah, she told me you might call.”
Arthur’s look said it all. It was the call Merry had been waiting for all day.
“She’s a good girl,” Arthur continued. “Hate to give her up, but...Couldn’t do better if you ask me...Well, hang on. Lemme check.” Arthur put the phone on hold and turned to Merry. “Mr. Moneybags wants to know if I can spare you, as soon as tomorrow.”
Merry silently pleaded.
“How am I supposed to say no to you?” Arthur groused.
True to her name, Merry hopped up and down. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!”
“All right, already,” he bellowed. “So, pick up the phone, before I come to my senses.”
There were times in Merry’s life when she could hardly imagine that she was awake, that a turn life had taken really was happening. That’s how it was for Merry the next morning. She looked around, wanting to drink in every detail of it.
The early December air was crisp; the sky was a brilliant blue. It offset stately elms lining an affluent street Merry had never even dreamed to explore. Iron fences led to tony brownstones, each with its own stairway, leading up to individual doorways. Here I am, she thought, marveling that it was true. She glanced heavenward with a smile, knowing it was the answer to her prayer.
As she passed each residence, Merry checked addresses against a slip of paper in her hand. Finding the matching house number, she stopped and looked up, dwarfed by a four-story townhouse.
Merry took hold of the rail and climbed the stairs. She reached for a brass knocker just as the over-sized door flew open and nine year-old Ollie Bell blew by her, then bounded down the stairs and sprinted for the arriving school bus.
“Hi!” Merry called after him.
Ollie glanced back with a wave, “Hi, bye, whoever you are!”
Next out the door was Ollie’s older sister, Tara. One of the two, Merry surmised. Tara glided out, put together more like a model from a fashion magazine than a teenager headed for school.
“Pardon moi,” she said, scooting by Merry.
“Gotta be Tara,” Merry intuited, just as her sister, Hayden ambled out in grungy contrast, zipping her laptop into her pack.
“Yeah, so how’d you tell the difference?” Hayden asked.
“Uh... The computer?”
Apparently, Hayden didn’t buy it. “What, not my chichi fashion sense?”
Tara called back to her twin impatiently, “Will you shake it, Hayden?”
Hayden tromped down the steps, calling to Tara sardonically. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to mis
s a second of walking in your shadow.”
Merry grinned, happy to think that the adventure of this job was already starting. She spun around to the door, inadvertently crashing into Daniel. Again. The proximity was a bit awkward, but she was at least glad that she didn’t have coffee to spill on him this time.
“Good morning, Merry,” he said.
“Oh! Hi. I met the kids. Sort of.”
Daniel headed down the steps. “I’m off, too, but stop by the bank before lunch and I’ll get you set with the Christmas account. Mom is in the kitchen, she’ll show you around.”
Merry watched Daniel as he opened the door of his Range Rover, parked out front.
“Thank you!” she called. “You won’t be sorry you gave me this chance.”
“Certainly hope not,” Daniel smiled as he climbed into the car. The door closed with the solid ca-thunk of a posh family vehicle, worlds apart from Merry’s repossessed Bug. In fact, Merry noticed that the whole street was lined with shiny, new luxury cars. It made Merry realize the advantage of having had to walk a few blocks from the El’s stop, since her faded, forty year-old car would have seemed so completely incongruous.
Turning, Merry stepped into the handsome residence and closed the door. Knowing there was only one first time for everything, she savored each step of the experience. Taking it all in, she wandered through the foyer and into the tastefully appointed living room. There was a handsome leather chair and ottoman that she supposed Mr. Bell frequented. Cushy sofa pillows accented the colors in an Oriental carpet that was almost the size of her whole studio apartment.
Though there was no escaping the awe Merry felt of what wealth can provide, the personal touches were what captured her attention most. There on an end table was a family photo. She could tell it had been taken years ago, both from the way the kids had all grown since and the fact that a comely brunette stood beside Mr. Bell, his arm around her shoulders.