One New York Christmas

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘Seth! You’re dropping an F-bomb in my house right in front of me!’ Kossy said, putting a flour-covered hand to her chest. ‘Have we regressed to the year 2000?’

  ‘Sorry, Mom.’ He picked up his phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his clean jeans. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Is it bad news?’ Kossy asked.

  ‘I …’ He really had quite wanted the Netflix series, maybe not as much as he wanted the character of Sam in the upcoming Universal film A Soul’s Song but all he could think about was the girl up the tree with the lemur and the fact Trent had pimped him out for the idea of something to sell to the press. And everything looked like it had come from him. Why had he let Trent control his social media? ‘I didn’t get a part, that’s all.’ His mom really didn’t need to know how messed up his life had gotten recently.

  ‘The part you told me about?’ Kossy enquired. ‘The guy who’s adopted?’

  He shook his head. ‘No … I haven’t heard back about that one yet.’

  ‘And we haven’t had a chance to talk any more about Candice.’

  Seth’s body bristled at the sound of his birth mother’s name. He hated himself. What was wrong with him? He swallowed, desperately trying to regroup as he picked up an ornamental Santa Claus that was holding toothpicks to distract himself.

  ‘I spoke to Bernadette in the kitchens and she says Candice’s last name was Garcia. I am ashamed that I never even knew that.’ Kossy stuck her hands into something that looked like dough. ‘We’re trying to check through the records but it’s all a bit up in the air at the centre coming up to Christmas.’

  ‘Garcia,’ he said. ‘Spanish?’

  ‘I guess she kinda had that air about her. Although, great dark hair can be achieved even with cheap products, it doesn’t have to come from the gene pool. Not that I know anything about that.’

  ‘Do you think she was Spanish?’ Seth enquired. Was that where he got his hair colour from? His skin wasn’t particularly olive toned. Seth Garcia … unbelievably it sounded more Hollywood than Seth Hunt.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kossy answered. ‘I told you. I only knew her as much as you can know people who stay at the shelter. Some treat it like their home, others you see once and never again. Candice came for perhaps four months, on and off, and then she was gone.’

  ‘And she left me with you,’ Seth stated.

  Kossy nodded, hands churning up the mixture in the bowl. ‘But I know, if she could, she would have kept you and taken care of you and—’

  ‘Mom,’ Seth said, interrupting quickly. ‘You don’t need to make this heart-warming and uplifting. She was a prostitute, working the streets.’ He paused, the words coming out stiff and uncomfortable. ‘How was she gonna keep that job going looking after a baby? The reality would have been she’d have left me in a drug den and I would have got ill or died from neglect or—’

  ‘I don’t think she was ever into drugs,’ Kossy insisted. ‘You see things, you look for these things. She was not someone I had pegged as a user.’

  ‘But the people she associated with—’

  ‘We all have associations with people from all walks of life.’

  ‘Now you sound like Dad.’ Ted was a school counsellor who had perfected the hard art of being both friend and adviser to the local youth community. In this day and age of total equality for all, with no ‘ism’ being acceptable, he was usually the King of Politically Correct.

  ‘Do you want to try and find her, Seth?’ Kossy asked. ‘Because, when we were at lunch and after my ravioli had gone cold, you still didn’t say if you wanted to try and find her.’

  ‘I know.’ Seth didn’t know the answer to that question. He knew he wanted to know who she was and where she was from, but he didn’t know if he wanted to take that next step.

  Kossy stopped kneading the dough, ran water in the sink and dived her hands underneath it before wiping them on a festive hand towel. ‘I will do everything I can to help you find her. If that’s what you want.’

  ‘I know,’ Seth said again. ‘I need to sit with it a little longer. Is that OK?’

  Kossy smiled. ‘Of course it’s OK. Whatever you want is OK. Just … tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.’

  Seth took a breath. ‘Maybe, if you can … are there any photographs at the centre? So I can see what she looked like.’

  ‘I can’t promise. Like I said, mainly they’re in and out and not exactly pouting for the paparazzi, but there might be something. I’ll look out everything I’ve got.’

  Seth smiled. ‘Thanks, Mom.’

  ‘Whoa!’ the excited whoop came from outside and drew Seth’s attention to the patio doors to the deck. There were now more lights shining in the backyard than at a Pink Floyd concert.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Kossy said, striding out from behind the worktop and surveying her garden. ‘He promised me this year’s lights were gonna be something special, but I was sceptical.’ She breathed in, watching the dancing laser lights. ‘I was actually a lot more than sceptical.’

  Within a few seconds the pinks and purples began to spin faster, hitting the back fence with an array of colour before swirling up to the cloud-laden sky and back again. Then suddenly, poof! They were gone and a loud disappointed grunt filtered through the double-glazing.

  ‘As I was saying,’ Kossy said with a heavy sigh, ‘sceptical was pushing it.’

  ‘I’ll go and see what I can do to help,’ Seth said, pushing at the door.

  ‘Wait,’ Kossy said, bustling towards him. ‘Not before you do up your coat.’ She fussed around him, zipping up his jacket like he was three years old. ‘It’s freezing out there.’

  He smiled, then leaned forward to kiss her cheek. ‘Thanks, Mom.’

  Sixteen

  Lara looked at her phone and the text she was composing to Aldo.

  Today in New York I ate a pumpernickel bagel and I rescued a lemur from a tree at Central Park Zoo. You would love lemurs. They’re like the feral cats but less bitey with longer tails. I think they also like Pringles. Don’t forget to help Dad put the bins out tomorrow and remember it’s 20% Day off at the garden centre. Xxx

  She deleted the last line as the taxi pulled up outside a row of neat-looking townhouses. She didn’t need to remind Aldo about the bins or the garden centre discount. He didn’t forget, she always assumed he would. She needed to stop assuming he was incapable, or she would end up making him incapable. Everyone else always assumed Aldo wasn’t able to do anything himself. She had always tried to teach him that with practice and patience he could achieve whatever he put his mind to.

  The cab driver cleared his throat like his entire windpipe was full of a thick winter stew.

  ‘Sorry,’ Lara said in response, sitting forward in the cab. ‘Are we here?’

  ‘Here we are, lady,’ he answered. ‘It’s the one with the door wide open and people drinking on the steps like it’s the middle of summer. What sorta party you been invited to?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ Lara replied, reaching into her jacket pocket for her purse.

  She and Susie hadn’t really had much time to talk about it as David had arrived at their apartment early before whisking her best friend out to dinner. David had obviously really missed Susie while he had been half a world away and they had both had a starry-eyed look of adoration in their eyes. A little part of Lara felt envious, but it also served to remind her that actually she couldn’t remember the last time Dan had acted anywhere near as amorously.

  Paying the cab driver, she opened the door of the taxi and stepped out onto the pavement as the first flakes of snow began to fall. She took a deep breath of the cold air and looked towards the houses. They were all similar but yet also individual. Some were brown brick, others had cream-coloured masonry, all with some element of greenery despite the season. Ivy stretched over walls, firs and other hardy plants sat in pots on doorsteps and provided interest in small front gardens. Every house also had an element of Christmas – strings of g
olden lights in the window or a soft glow of cosy life going on behind the curtains – none more so than the building she was destined for. The one with half a dozen people in mismatched hats, coats and scarves sitting on the steps, some wearing shoes that showed all their toes. She stepped towards it.

  ‘Hello,’ she said to the first man on the third step up. ‘Merry Christmas.’

  ‘Don’t eat all the pie!’ the man barked. He had a beard that stretched down to the step he was sitting on, crumbs and things that looked alive nestling in the folds of hair.

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Don’t eat anything,’ the man snapped. ‘I want there to be more.’

  ‘Shall I … get you some more?’ Lara offered.

  He shook his head. ‘There’s only more when Kossy says there’s more.’

  ‘Oh, OK,’ Lara said. ‘Sorry.’ What was this party?

  ‘Don’t mind Earl,’ said a young girl with dreadlocks. ‘He hasn’t eaten all week to make room for tonight.’ She touched Lara’s arm with bitten-to-the-quick nails. ‘And, just so you know, there’s always more.’

  Lara smiled.

  ‘You have no idea what this party is, do you?’

  ‘It’s that obvious?’

  ‘We’re all here for Kossy. She runs the centre we all try and go to to get a bed for the night and a warm shower. She’s the best woman I’ve ever met. Tonight is her Christmas treat. Food, drink, laughs, no judgement. We get to feel like we live in this part of town, like we could live in this part of town.’ The girl smiled. ‘I hope you’re hungry.’

  Lara went to speak, to say she was starving. Then she closed her mouth. She had no idea what real starvation was and there was no way she was going to claim that she was in front of people who looked like they did. Was this a fundraising thing Seth supported?

  ‘This is your first time, huh? Rubbing shoulders with the unclean,’ the girl stated with a laugh.

  ‘No … well … here in New York maybe. But there’s a whole lot of … unclean at the truck stop cafe I go to for sausage sandwiches back in England.’ She swallowed. ‘Not that I’m saying you’re unclean or that anyone is unclean.’

  The girl laughed. ‘You’re cool … and it’s OK. I’m good with being dirty. It reminds me why I chose this life. Being dirty on the outside allows me to feel cleaner on the inside than I ever had the chance to be where I came from.’ She stuck out her hand. ‘I’m Felice.’

  Lara took hold of her hand and shook it. ‘Lara. It’s nice to meet you.’

  ‘You too.’ Felice picked up a bottle of beer and took a swig. ‘So, I’m guessing, you’re one of the good people who has come to show us that the world isn’t full of shits who wanna take you for a ride.’

  ‘Well, I was invited by …’ Was she really going to say she was invited here by Seth Hunt? It sounded ridiculous. But it was the truth and her social media had seen a real flurry of activity since Susie posted a photo of her and Seth at the zoo and tagged her in it. No response from Dan, as yet …‘Seth Hunt invited me.’

  ‘Ah, the hot son.’ Felice smiled.

  ‘Son?’ Lara queried.

  ‘Seth is Kossy’s son. He’s inside helping with the barbecue. They’ve got sausage if you wanna partake in a sandwich.’ Felice’s English accent was pretty much spot-on.

  ‘Don’t have more than one!’ Earl shouted up to them.

  ‘Dad, these sausages are almost at the point of burning,’ Seth stated, frantically moving them from the bottom shelf of the barbecue to the top.

  ‘I’d leave them another couple minutes,’ Ted replied, cool as a cucumber as he flashed off some steaks in a pan, throwing a little brandy over them and igniting a blue flame.

  ‘Another couple minutes and we’re gonna be dealing in charcoal,’ Seth answered. Although a light flurry of snow was coming down from the sky, he was sweating. His mom had filled the garden area with patio heaters, chimeneas and old-school oil barrels. People were standing around, warming their hands over the flames, others were toasting marshmallows. Old Eddie, who had to be close to eighty, was playing his mouth organ along to the Christmas music blasting from the oldest-looking boom box Seth had ever seen. It was vibrating on the table so much the plastic ketchup and mustard bottles had been gradually bouncing across to the edge.

  ‘After all these years of this cook out, you still don’t understand the importance of not getting sued for food poisoning?’ Ted served his steaks up onto plates and, quick as a flash, they were gone, whipped away to be devoured by the hungry.

  ‘Seriously, Dad, you think anyone here is gonna try and sue you? You’re doing a good thing here.’

  Ted waved his spatula in the air. ‘And we don’t do it naively.’ He lowered his voice. ‘You think everyone here is needy and starving?’

  ‘You told me I was needy since I was five and asked for a fire truck for Christmas … and if I don’t get a sausage soon … what can I say?’

  ‘There’s always press here, Seth,’ Ted continued. ‘Every year they want to report on the crazy do-gooders who open their home to the city’s destitute, hoping someone will hold us at knife-point or set a fire or steal our worldly goods.’

  ‘People do sometimes take stuff,’ Seth said, thinking of the Givenchy dress.

  ‘Of course they do,’ Ted answered. ‘They have nothing. And if they want to steal your mother’s God-awful dust-collecting ornaments to sell for a couple of bucks I’m not gonna stand in their way.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘There’s nothing your mother and I have that we wouldn’t give away in a heartbeat, except you.’ He slapped a hand on Seth’s shoulder. ‘We have memories.’ He tapped the side of his fair-haired head. ‘It’s all the times that are important, not the gadgets … although I have seen a new drill I’m hoping Santa might bring me.’

  Seth smiled at his father, drinking him in from his beige chinos tucked into thick winter boots to his reindeer jumper, sleeves rolled up. He was such an honest, hard-working man who had always been there when he was growing up, for every moment from the loss of his first pet – a snail he’d picked out of the garden – to his first film premiere. Then he jumped. ‘The sausages! Dad! They’re gonna be ruined!’ He started taking them off the heat and putting them on paper plates.

  Ted laughed. ‘So, in answer to your first question about law suits. I overcook the sausages so the press don’t get food poisoning. If they wanna report my bad barbecuing skills that’s up to them.’ He helped Seth move the food. ‘But if you think handling the tongs on blackened wieners is going to harm your career then you can drop them any time.’ Ted smiled. ‘Just like that lemur.’

  ‘Hey, that’s a low shot,’ Seth replied.

  The house was as full of people as it was things. Photos and paintings adorned every inch of wall, but they were almost covered by guests – some standing, others sitting or propped up against furniture. There was a cosy living room off to the right Lara had looked into, but it was packed with people gathered around a table playing cards for what looked like sushi. She had moved along, into a dining room-cum-kitchen where two enormous Christmas trees dominated most of the space. Music and laughter filled the air as well as the chink of glassware and bottle tops popping. She felt a little out of place, a bit apprehensive and totally overwhelmed. She was in New York completely on her own in a house full of strangers. She stopped in the kitchen, nestled next to one of the Christmas trees and slipped her phone out of her jacket pocket. She called up the text she hadn’t sent to Aldo yet.

  Today in New York I ate a pumpernickel bagel and I rescued a lemur from a tree at Central Park Zoo. You would love lemurs. They’re like the feral cats but less bitey with longer tails. I think they also like Pringles.

  How to end it? Not with an instruction. Maybe a suggestion. Something nice.

  If you want to open my Advent calendar while I’m away and eat all the chocolates then you can. Xxx

  ‘Hi there. I’m Kossy. Can I get you something to drink?’

 
Lara looked up from her phone and into the face of a beautiful fifty-something woman with impressive, slightly curly, long dark hair, slightly speckled with grey, she knew Susie would kill to get her hands on.

  ‘I … don’t know if I’m going to be staying very long.’ That hadn’t been what she wanted to say at all and it had sounded so rude. ‘Sorry, it’s just, I’m not homeless or starving, and I feel bad, if I have a drink or something to eat … I don’t want to take it away from … everyone else.’

  Kossy laughed out loud. It was rich and full-bodied, somehow sounding of the deep, dark texture of figgy pudding lightened with a touch of whipped cream. ‘I like you! You’re crazy!’ She slipped an arm around Lara’s shoulders. ‘I’m not homeless either, or theoretically starving, but one thing I’ve learned is everybody needs to eat and drink and no one is gonna deprive anyone of anything in this house. Beer?’ Kossy asked. ‘Or shall I open the tequila?’ She lowered her voice. ‘I’ve been dying to open the tequila since it was five o’clock.’

  ‘Beer would be good,’ Lara admitted.

  ‘One beer coming up,’ Kossy said, taking hold of Lara’s arm and guiding her through the guests to the kitchen island. ‘Two if you tell me all about yourself and England. You know the Queen personally, right?’

  Lara smiled. ‘I’ll settle for one for now.’

  ‘Ha!’ Kossy exclaimed. ‘A mystery lady.’ Then she let out a gasp, hands going to either side of her face. ‘I know you! I know you! Wait a minute, it will come to me! You’ve been in something on TV with my Seth … was it Manhattan Med? Were you that student nurse he was mildly involved with in season four? I thought they could have done much more with her character.’

  Lara shook her head. ‘No, that wasn’t me. But I wish it had been. She had really good skin.’

  ‘She did have good skin …’ Kossy popped the top off a beer bottle and handed it to Lara. ‘But you’re an actress, right?’

  Lara smiled. ‘No. I drive a truck.’

  ‘Get away! With looks like that?’