THE PERFECT CHRISTMAS GIFT
Sarah Ettritch
Published by Norn Publishing
Copyright © 2016 Sarah Ettritch
All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced or shared, except for brief quotations in articles or reviews, without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Title Page
The Perfect Christmas Gift
Other Titles by Sarah Ettritch
THE PERFECT CHRISTMAS GIFT
Casey Cook snatched the receipt from the ATM and peered at her bank account balance. She grimaced. This would be her first Christmas with Emily. She wanted to buy her something special, which would be difficult when she only had fifty dollars to spend. Nobody had hired her for almost three weeks. Everyone was busy buying presents and planning Christmas dinner. She usually groaned when someone called about a lost cat, but now she’d leap at the chance to kitty hunt—not that she wanted any poor cats to wander away from home, especially at this time of year.
The ATM was in a nook in a busy mall. Casey slipped the receipt into her jeans pocket and joined the throngs of shoppers searching for the next gift on their list. Gran had said she’d be in the pharmacy. Casey found her there, waiting in the checkout line with two puzzle magazines.
She eyed the magazine titles and volume numbers. “Why are you buying two of the same magazine?”
“Because I’m visiting Lily after we finish shopping. I told her I’d be there between three and four o’clock,” Gran said.
Casey glanced at her watch. “You should have told her you’d be there at two.”
Gran frowned. “You said you had shopping to do. We just got here.”
“I thought I had more money. I won’t find the perfect gift for Emily with fifty dollars.”
“What are you planning to get her? A car?”
“No, but this is our first Christmas. I want to get something that shows how much I care about her.”
Gran opened her mouth to say something, but then it was her turn to pay. Casey examined a bunch of gift cards hoping to entice impulse shoppers. Spa visits. Adventure days. Restaurant vouchers. All were out of her budget. Maybe she should have bowed out of her Saturday-morning ceramics class. She could have put the twenty bucks she’d just taken out to pay the teacher to better use.
They left the pharmacy and stood where they wouldn’t be trampled. “You can buy a lot for fifty dollars,” Gran said.
Sure, but nothing that would say, “The last six months have been the best of my life because of you, and I’m starting to think this could be forever.” She was singing along with all the love songs. Sometimes they made her misty eyed. She had to get this Christmas right.
“I doubt I’ll get a job until after Christmas now,” she said glumly.
A smile played on Gran’s lips. “What if I said I might have a case for you?”
Casey brightened. “Really?” She narrowed her eyes at Gran. “A real case, or one you’re making up because you feel sorry for me?”
Gran’s eyes widened with mock innocence. “Would I do that?”
Yes, she would, because underneath her crusty exterior was a softie who was always there for her granddaughter. Casey arched a brow—or tried to. She’d never gotten the hang of it. “What’s the job?”
“It would be for Lily. A Christmas present. I’d pay you five hundred dollars.”
“Five hundred dollars?” Casey shrieked, turning the heads of a couple of harried shoppers rushing by. “Whatever you want me to do, it must be big.”
“It could turn out to be easy. But it would mean a lot to her, and she’s a good friend.”
Casey folded her arms and rocked on her heels. “So you want to get someone the perfect gift too, eh?”
“Not for the same reason you do,” Gran snapped. “Stop fretting about Emily. If she loves you, she won’t care what you get her. It’s the thought that counts.”
Really? If that were the case, half the people traipsing through the shopping mall buying crap they couldn’t afford wouldn’t be here. But she wouldn’t quibble. “Tell me about the case.”
“I want you to find someone. You’ll have to talk to Lily about it. Give me your phone. I’ll call her and tell her you’re coming with me and we’ll be early.”
Casey handed Gran the phone. Usually she’d tease her about getting her own cell phone and listen to Gran’s usual “In my day, we didn’t need to be available to the world twenty-four hours a day” speech. But for this call, Gran was her client. Five hundred bucks. There would be something special under the Christmas tree for Emily after all.
*****
They arrived at the retirement home where Lily lived just before two o’clock. A Christmas tree with bright red bulbs, multicoloured lights, and gold tinsel hanging off its branches stood in the corner of the lobby, and a Merry Christmas banner hung on one wall. Political correctness hadn’t invaded this establishment, then. Casey followed Gran past the front desk. In the elevator, Gran punched the number for the fourth floor.
“If I ever have to go into one of these places, I wouldn’t mind this one,” Gran said.
“I thought you said you’d rather be shot.”
“You don’t have a gun. And I didn’t know about places like this one until Lily moved in. Everyone in here is totally independent. They just need a little help every once in a while.”
“You’re as healthy and active as some people my age. Plus, you have me.”
“I doubt you’ll be living with me forever.”
A twinge of guilt hunched Casey’s shoulders. She and Emily hadn’t discussed living together, but that didn’t stop Casey from daydreaming…their own place, wedding bells… She hoped Gran would understand.
They got off the elevator on the fourth floor. Casey took in the cheery hallway’s bright paint and polished floor. Christmas wreaths hung on several doors. Gran knocked at unit 412. “These are just like regular apartments,” she said. “Lily has her own kitchen and bathroom, but the best thing is that the doors have locks. Remember the place Carol was living in?”
“I never went with you to visit Carol. But that was when you said you’d rather be shot than forced into a place like that.”
“No locks,” Gran muttered. “People wandering into her room all the time, half of them not knowing who they were or where they were. I swear, it put her into an early grave.”
The door swung open. Lily’s lined face broke into a smile. “Come in, come in,” she said.
Casey stepped into a cozy apartment that could have been in any building. A minute later, she had a cup of coffee in front of her, and Lily was prodding her to have a chocolate biscuit.
“Thanks,” Casey said, not needing much encouragement. She took one from the plate Lily had set on the small kitchen table and listened to her and Gran exchange small talk. Then Gran got to the case.
“Last time I saw you, you told me about Clara,” Gran said.
Lily’s face flushed. “I was being silly and sentimental. I always think about her at Christmas. I can’t help it.”
“I’m glad you told me. I can’t believe you’ve kept it bottled up all these years.”
Lily cringed. “I wanted to tell you, but I was worried
about what you would think of me.”
“I told you about Casey,” Gran bellowed. “Why didn’t you tell me then?”
Casey looked at Lily with renewed interest. Gran had mentioned that Lily had never married, which was odd for a woman her age.
“I don’t know,” Lily said. “It’s hard to let something like that out. And after all the years we’ve known each other, I suppose I was worried you might be angry with me for lying to you.”
Gran snorted and waved away Lily’s concern. “You weren’t lying. You just left something out until you couldn’t keep it in.” She tapped the table with her right index finger. “You told me about Clara because it’s weighing on you. That’s why I’ve brought Casey over. She’ll find her for you.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Do you want to find out what happened to her, or not?” Gran took Lily’s answering silence as consent and turned to Casey. “Lily’s a lesbian, just like you.”
When Lily flinched, Casey understood. It had taken her some time to feel okay about the word lesbian, too, and she wasn’t in her seventies.
“I bet you already knew that, though,” Gran said to Casey. “With your radar, and all.”
“Gaydar, Gran, and no, I didn’t know. It’s not like a ding goes off in my head, and it’s not foolproof.” It if was, she wouldn’t have made an ass of herself when she’d batted her eyelashes at Brooke, one of the cashiers at Walmart when Casey had worked there. Brush cut, plaid shirt, Doc Martens, and no makeup. But, nope. Fortunately Casey had only received a tongue-lashing. It hadn’t ended up all over Facebook.
Gran pointed at Lily. “She was in love with Clara and they were going to go away together, but Clara didn’t show up, and Lily didn’t go after her, and then she went away to university. She got a letter from Clara, telling her she was getting married. Nothing since then.”
“And now you want to find her?” Casey said.
Lily hesitated. “I’m not sure. I’ve always wondered what happened to her. I just want to know if she’s been happy.”
“If she’s alive,” Gran said.
Casey’s mouth fell open. “Jeez, Gran. Can we be optimistic for a minute, maybe?”
“Sorry,” Gran muttered.
Casey took another sip of her coffee, then set her cup down and leaned forward. “If I find her, will you want to talk to her, or what?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Lily said softly. “Do you think you’ll be able to find her?”
“I’ll do my best. I have my PI licence.” Never missing an opportunity to show it, Casey pulled it from her back pocket and laid it on the table. Lily adjusted her glasses and peered down at it. “I’m experienced. I’ve closed quite a few cases.”
“She found a missing comatose woman once,” Gran said.
Lily looked up. “I remember that. I doubt Clara is comatose. At least, I hope she isn’t.”
Casey returned the licence to her back pocket. “What’s Clara’s last name?”
“It was Hopkins. I don’t know what her married name is. She didn’t say who she was marrying in the letter, and I didn’t want to ask.”
“You didn’t write back?”
“No.” Clara stared down into her mug. “It would have hurt too much. It did hurt.”
Casey and Gran exchanged glances. “Did you keep the letter?”
Lily’s head came up. “Of course I did. Well, I’ve come close to throwing it away a few times over the years, but something always stops me.”
“How about the envelope with the return address?” She doubted it would be that easy. They must be talking over fifty years ago.
“No, I didn’t keep it.”
Nope, not that easy.
“I’ll show it to you,” Lily said, pushing back her chair.
Casey didn’t need to see it, but she didn’t protest. She wanted a private word with Gran, and leaned closer to her the moment Lily was out of earshot. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she hissed.
Gran scrunched up her face. “What?”
Casey inwardly groaned and raised her voice. “Are you sure this is a good idea? It’s obvious she’s still in love with Clara, who could still be married. Do you want her to be hurt all over again?”
“I’ve sensed a sadness in Lily all the time I’ve known her, and that’s a long time,” Gran said. “I met her when I was twenty-eight, and I could tell she longed after something. I thought it was a man,” she said with a chuckle. “But now I know she was wondering about Clara. She regrets not going after her, both times. She hasn’t told me as much, but I think she wonders if Clara might have changed her mind, if only she’d spoken up. So find out what happened to Clara. The way I see it, Lily will get something no matter what. Peace of mind.” She elbowed Casey. “Or maybe a girlfriend.”
“Don’t hope for that, Gran. Clara could be on her fourth husband. Or dead, like you said.”
“Then Lily can stop hoping Clara will show up on her doorstep. It’s the not knowing that’s the—”
Gran broke off when Lily shuffled back into the kitchen and sat down. She placed a folded paper and a black-and-white photo on the table.
“This is it,” Lily said. “This is all I have of her.” She picked up the paper and carefully unfolded it, then handed it to Casey with trembling fingers.
Casey examined the small script ringed by daffodils. She sniffed, wondering if the stationery was perfumed, but didn’t smell flowers. Not surprising after so much time, and considering Clara had written the letter to break a heart.
May 23, 1959
Dear Lily,
I’m sorry I haven’t written, but I felt it best that we not have any contact with each other. I needed time away from you, so our feelings for each other could wither, giving us the chance to form more healthy relationships. I’m sorry I didn’t meet you, but you must agree that we couldn’t be together in that way. We allowed our feelings to cloud our judgement, and one of us had to put a stop to it. I did it for both of us. I can understand if you hate me, but please understand that I felt I was doing the right thing.
I’ve written you this letter to tell you that I’m to marry this summer, in July. I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else and think that I hold you in such low regard that I couldn’t be bothered to tell you. We were close friends once, and I valued our friendship. If not for letting our feelings grow into something they shouldn’t have, I’m sure our friendship would have endured. Please don’t respond to this letter. We must go on with our lives without each other.
Frances gave me your address. I think it’s wonderful that you’re studying. You were always so animated when you spoke about going to university.
Be well, Lily.
Yours in friendship,
Clara
Casey kept her eyes on the letter, to give herself time to think. Clara had definitely had feelings for Lily. Had she panicked, or doubted that her feelings were true? She could have realized that she didn’t love Lily when faced with running away with her. Or, she could have given in to the norms of the time. Most of the letter sounded firm, but there were a couple of parts that gave Casey pause.
“I’ve always thought that she wouldn’t have written to me if she still didn’t care,” Lily said. “We’d been apart for almost two years at that point.”
Or Clara could have been experiencing a twinge of conscience and had wanted to tie up a loose end before she entered into wedded bliss. Casey understood Lily wanting to read between the lines. She’d interpreted innocent remarks as more than that when she’d been crushing badly on someone. She could turn “Can I please have the salt?” into “I want you to hand me the salt so I can touch something your fingers have touched” with the best of them. Fifty years of longing, though. Casey was starting to agree with Gran. It was time to put Lily out of her misery.
She forced a smile and gave Lily her treasure back. “What else can you tell me about Clara? Did—does she have brothers and si
sters? Other close friends I might be able to find?”
“She was an only child. She had a sister, but she died when she was three. Meningitis, I think. As for other friends, well…” Lily’s voice softened. “We were two peas in a pod. We’d known each other since we were eight, when Clara moved into the neighbourhood. We went to the same high school.”
“How old were you when you decided to run away together?”
“Nineteen. We’d graduated from high school and been working for a year. After work, we spent all our time together. I’m sure she made other friends after…” Lily drew a deep breath. “After we parted.”
“Did you see her again? You said she didn’t show up, but you still lived in the same town, right?”
“We were planning to run away that night because she was due to leave with her family on a summer trip to Europe the next day. We’d both been dreading it, the separation. Funny to think of it now, how much we agonized and hoped the trip would be cancelled. We ended up being separated forever.”
“It might not be forever.” Gran patted Casey’s arm. “She’ll find her.”
“What happened when she came back from Europe?” Casey asked.
“We avoided each other. I only saw her a few times, from afar. I went off to university the next year, and that was that.”
“Can I see the photo of her?” Casey asked.
Lily gave it to her. Casey studied the intelligent face surrounded by a mass of curly hair. She wouldn’t ask what colour it had been. Clara would be gray or silver now.
“I want to take a photo of it,” Casey said, “so I can post it online.” When Lily didn’t say anything, Casey set the photo on the table and pulled out her phone. One tap later, she had a clear copy of Clara. “Thank you.”
“She was a beauty, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, she was.”
They finished their coffee in silence, Casey planning her first move, Lily likely thinking about Clara, and Gran probably pleased with herself.
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