Pete counted on her. Depended on her. And she fed on those dependencies like a fool.
If Pete was right, it would be two years, maybe three, before Maddie testified in court. If she stuck around that long, she would be thirty-six or thirty-seven, the best years of her life gone, at least the three years that really counted. She’d be almost past the child-bearing stage. She’d be gray-haired with bridges in her mouth, wearing bifocals and fighting a losing battle with flab when her kids went off to college. Providing, of course, there was a man out there who would want a woman who was in love with another man.
“And that, Annie Gabriel,” she said aloud, “makes you just about the biggest fool walking on the face of the earth.”
Annie choked back a sob as she dressed for another day of work that would make her rival richer for her efforts. Don’t think about that, Annie, you’re doing this for Pete because you love him heart and soul.
At first, the days crawled by, and then they picked up speed and literally seemed to whiz by.
Annie eyed the calendar on her desk. Ten days until Christmas. The house in Darien was finished. She closed on it the day before Thanksgiving with Pete’s power of attorney. Now that she had experienced, full-time help at the store, she had some time to herself. She used it to oversee the last minute decorating. This weekend the drapers were coming to hang the curtains, verticals, and shades in all the rooms. The carpeting and tile had been completed by the closing date, thanks to the owner’s willingness, the bank’s approval, and her own spare time to allow the renovations to be done. Pete’s sizable down payment, of course, made all things possible. The furniture arrived the past weekend and everything was in place. This weekend she was going to put up a huge Christmas tree and decorate it, so when Pete arrived on Christmas Eve, the house would be fragrant, and hopefully, just what he wanted. Plus the grand surprise if it materialized.
She thought about the surprise, a smile of pure happiness on her face. Her present to Pete, which she’d planned months ago. In fact it had come to her the day she first met Simon Jakes. Find Barney Sims. Find him and bring him to Pete’s house. His special Christmas present.
Just yesterday Jakes had called to report on his lack of progress. “It’s like he dropped off the face of the earth. Every lead fizzles on me. I’m trying, Annie, I need you to believe that. If I don’t find him for Christmas, then we’ll concentrate on Easter. And if Easter doesn’t work, we’ll go with the Fourth of July and on through every holiday. I won’t give up. I’m gonna find that guy. It’s a challenge now. I think they changed their names, though not legally. That’s what’s making it so hard.”
The perfect present, and it might not materialize. It’s the thought that counts, Annie, she told herself, and sighed mightily.
For days now she’d been praying for snow. Every night she watched the long-range forecast, the weatherman teasing her, saying yes and no. Whatever, it would be cold, and that was a plus. The past weekend she’d carried in firewood so it would be dry and ready to burn. As far as she could tell, she hadn’t missed a thing. She was taking Friday off so she could get a head start on the grocery shopping, stocking Pete’s freezer, cooking extra meals that could be frozen.
And what would Pete do? Why, Pete would hug her, his eyes would light up, and he’d say, “Annie, you are amazing!” He’d hug her again, her heart would swell and her eyes would mist over. All because she was a fool, and fools acted with their hearts instead of their brains. Now, if her special surprise came into being, well, Pete would just about die.
Somehow Annie managed to get through the days until Friday, when she rose at four-thirty and was on the road to Darien by five-thirty. She was antsy, impatient to get there so she could start on all the last minute details that would make Pete’s homecoming special.
Pete was as good as his word, calling every other day. The first question he always asked as soon as he said hello was, “Any news?” Since leaving, all he’d said about the house was, “How’s it going?” She hadn’t told him how much time and effort she’d put into his house, and she wasn’t sure why. The big surprise! The special pat on the back. The special smile that reached his eyes.
It was a beautiful day, crisp and cold, fireplace weather. Annie immediately set the thermostat to seventy degrees before she took off her shearling jacket. As she filled the coffeepot, she kept saying over and over, “This is going to be a wonderful day.” She believed her own words.
The perfect house, the perfect setting, the perfect holiday. But most of all, the perfect man. The absolutely end-all of surprises.
By noon the drapes, shades, and vertical blinds were installed. They matched the furniture perfectly. Annie clapped her hands in delight after she wrote out the check.
In town, before she shopped for groceries, she stopped in a quaint tearoom for lunch, which she gobbled, impatient to be on her way.
At two-thirty the new refrigerator and freezer were stocked to overflowing. She made fresh coffee while she worked on a menu list. At four o’clock she was in her Volvo heading out to the main road once again, in search of a Christmas-tree farm. It was dark when she picked out her tree and ready-made wreath for the front door. For five dollars extra the owner promised delivery of the tree by noon the following day. For ten dollars this man would set the tree up in the stand. She parted with thirty more dollars.
Everything was under control. The only thing she’d forgotten to do was carry in the Christmas decorations, specialty items she’d been picking up since Thanksgiving. She had wide red satin bows for the wreath and the mantel garland, unique Christmas balls, tiny strings of lights in the shape of stars, and the most glorious Christmas angel she’d ever seen, made especially for her by one of Maddie’s suppliers.
Annie’s mood darkened to match the night around her. Where was Maddie? What kind of Christmas was she going to have? Would she spend the holiday thinking about Pete? But more important, would Pete spend the holiday thinking about Maddie? If so, then all her work was for nothing. Instead of making Christmas special for Pete, she might be making him miserable. Damn, she couldn’t do anything right.
Her mood shifted and she cried the whole evening as she prepared a tray of lasagna, made spaghetti, a pot roast, and fried chicken. When the food cooled, she portioned it out into trays that she wrapped and slid into the freezer. She went to bed with tears on her cheeks. Her pillow was damp when she woke, and she had a terrible headache she knew was going to turn into a migraine.
The tree arrived at mid-morning. It took the delivery man ten minutes to set it up and hang the wreath on the front door. It was huge, Annie thought, craning her neck to see the tip of the tree, and it was so fragrant she was transported momentarily back to her childhood, waking to see the magnificent tree in her parents’ living room.
“Don’t decorate it till tomorrow,” the man who brought it said. “The branches need time to fall, and they’re still a little wet. Don’t forget to add water. The stand holds a quart, but the tree will suck up the first quart real quick. I made a deep X in the trunk. The tree will stay fresh till the middle of January if you do that. Try and keep your thermostat set around sixty-eight. That’s ideal. Beautiful house, ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
Her headache raged. There was nothing for her to do but lie down and pray it would go away. She went out to the kitchen, her head pounding with each step she took. She swallowed four aspirin with a glass of water before she made her way back to the brand-new sofa. She slept until noon the following day. She still had a headache, but it was bearable.
Annie decorated the tree, placed the angel on top, vacuumed the pine needles, set the timers for the tree lights, the foyer light, and the kitchen light to come on at four-thirty.
She was on I-95 heading back to the city by six o’clock. Pete’s homecoming had been taken care of, right down to the three presents she’d placed under the tree, all done up in sparkly silver paper with huge red velvet bows. There was no way she could wrap
her special, super-duper gift, if Jakes came through for her.
What was she going to do for Christmas? Who would she share the holiday with? She hadn’t had time to make friends in New York, and all her old friends in Boston were married and usually spent the holidays with parents or in-laws.
“God,” she said, “I didn’t even buy myself a Christmas tree.” She laughed so hard her eyes watered. Her head started to pound again, but she was home, so it didn’t matter. She’d get one of those table trees fully decorated from the florist. She could buy herself a present and stick it under the tree, she decided.
Annie fixed some soup, ate it, showered, and got her clothes ready for the following day before she curled on the sofa with the phone book and telephone in her lap. She called six churches before she found one that said they would be delighted to have her help serve the needy and the poor on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
The decision to open or close Fairy Tales on Christmas Eve, one of the biggest shopping days of the season, was hers to make. She opted to close it. There were more important things in life than making money . . . for one’s rival. She immediately had an attack of conscience. This wasn’t like her. All her life she’d been an honest, forthright, tell-it-like-it-is person. She’d lived her life under the banner of honesty, and here she was, throwing it all away for a lousy day of sales.
Annie looked at the clock. It wasn’t too late to call her two full-time employees. If she agreed to pay them overtime or double time, out of her own pocket, she wouldn’t be compromising herself. She punched out numbers, waited for Ada Rollins to pick up the phone. She spoke quickly, ending with, “I need to know, Ada.”
“Double time, close at four-thirty, and I’ll do it,” the older woman said. “Don’t worry about Caroline. If I agree to work, so will she. What about the day’s receipts?”
“Oh, I forgot about that. Tally up and I’ll pick up the receipts on my way home. Ada, if business is slow, use your best judgment about closing earlier. I know you and Caroline want to be with your families.”
Annie made a mental note to be extra generous with the women’s Christmas bonuses.
Now she could go to sleep.
At the end of the day before Christmas Eve, Annie was reaching for her purse when the phone rang.
“Pete! Where are you?”
“Anaconda, Montana. Lots of snow here. It’s as cold as a well digger’s ass, I can tell you that. I’m heading out to Butte and should be in Darien late tomorrow evening. Any . . . word?”
“No, Pete, I’m sorry.”
“I thought . . . the holidays and all. It was supposed to be Maddie’s and my first Christmas as a married couple.”
“I really am sorry, Pete.”
“I know you are. How’s business?”
“I don’t think it gets any better than this. I think you’ll be pleased. Did I tell you a lady came into the shop after Thanksgiving and wanted to know if she could sell, on consignment, Victorian lace sachet balls made in the shape of Christmas balls? I said okay. I sold eleven hundred! Is that amazing?”
“Yeah, amazing. Maddie would be proud of you. Listen, my driver is here so I gotta mush on out of here. See you, Annie.”
“’Bye, Pete.”
Not Merry Christmas. Not a word about inviting her to Darien. Not a word about stopping by the apartment, not a word about the Darien house.
Annie wiped at her eyes. Getting one’s hopes up only allowed for disappointment. “Damn.” She should have known better. What was it the poets said? Hope springs eternal. Yeah, right, for other people, not for the Annie Gabriels of this world.
The following morning Annie arrived at the Good Shepherd’s soup kitchen at five A.M. She introduced herself, donned a tattered apron, and became one of a dozen volunteers. Breakfast was the first order of the day. Afterward there were dishes to wash and lunch to prepare. Her job was to cut the vegetables and pick through the beans that went into the hearty soup that was served every day.
At ten-thirty, when the minister told her to take a break, she did. “You need more volunteers, Reverend,” she said wearily. “I had no idea you had families. For some reason I thought . . .”
The minister smiled. “It is a shock, isn’t it? We take care of roughly twenty-three families, and we have thirty-seven children. It’s going to be a very . . . lean Christmas for the children.”
“Don’t you get donations? Don’t your parishioners give toys and clothing?”
“This is a very poor parish, Miss Gabriel. This month the church barely had enough money to pay the electric bill. If you trust in the Lord, He comes through. He sent you to us, didn’t He?”
“Well, yes, He did . . . but—”
“There are no buts, Miss Gabriel. You’re here. We need you. It’s that simple. Now, if you could just figure out a way to turn meat loaf into turkey, you would have my eternal thanks.”
“Well, Reverend, if you can spare me for a few hours, I just might be able to do that.” Annie had her coat on before the minister could say yes or no. “Do you by any chance have a vehicle I can borrow?”
The minister tossed her a set of keys. “It’s the van parked in front. Don’t let the exterior fool you, the engine is in perfect condition, one of my flock sees to it. Can you use some help?” he asked. “For whatever you have in mind?”
Annie grinned. “Reverend, an extra pair of hands would be wonderful. Let’s go, but first can I make a phone call?”
“Of course.”
Annie sprinted into the makeshift office and dialed Fairy Tales.
“Ada, it’s Annie. Listen to me. Close the shop now. Say there’s a gas leak, say anything you want, but get whatever customers you have in the store out. Hang the sign in the window and close the shutters. Don’t open the door for anyone but me. Pack every single thing in the store in boxes. Everything. Toys, clothes, baby gear. Everything. Have Caroline call the market and tell them to have a dozen turkeys with all the trimmings ready for me by noon. One o’clock at the latest. I want cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, vegetables, stuffing mix, dinner rolls, and salad greens. Pumpkin pies too. I need enough for . . . seventy people. I have to go now.”
An hour later Reverend Tobias said, “I can’t believe this! I do believe it! You see, Miss Gabriel, God sent you to us for a reason.”
“Wait, wait, we forgot the wrapping paper and all the other decorations. Ada, Caroline, help me, please.”
“Miss Gabriel, do you know what you are doing?” Ada asked, her face puckered in worry.
“Of course.”
“The store’s empty. There’s nothing left but the shelves.”
“I know, isn’t it great?”
“Well ...”
“Have a wonderful holiday. Spend your bonuses wisely. I’ll see you next week.”
“But . . . how can we work, we have no stock?”
“That’s true,” Annie said happily. “We’ll think of something. Come in on Monday as usual.”
“Miss Gabriel—”
“Call me Annie, Reverend.”
“If you agree to call me Albert.”
“All right, Albert, what were you going to say?”
“I was going to say I don’t think there’s room in the van for the food.”
“Albert, I learned a long time ago not to sweat the small stuff,” Annie replied.
Annie wrote a check for the food. Later, she thought, she would have an anxiety attack over the amount. Later she would think about what she’d just done to Maddie Stern’s shop. Later she would think about the flak she was going to get from Pete. Later she would worry about paying for everything.
“God will truly bless you, Annie,” the reverend said when they were in the van, weaving through traffic.
“Albert, I need a friend. If—”
“Child, I was your friend the moment you called me. I’ll always be here for you, and it has nothing to do with what you’ve just done for my flock. You’re happy right now, aren’t you?”
“Yes I am. My adrenaline is pumping. Why is that?”
“Because you are doing for others materially as well as physically and mentally. You are giving of yourself.”
“I hear ya, Albert,” Annie said as she careened around a taxi, her foot bearing down on the gas pedal. “If I call you in the middle of the night to bitch and moan, will you talk to me?”
“Absolutely.”
“If I told you I was in love with a great guy who’s in love with someone else . . . ah, forget it.”
“We’ll talk about it when we aren’t so ... wired up. My bishop is not going to believe this. I’m having trouble adjusting.”
“Albert, I didn’t see a Christmas tree. Don’t you have one?”
“No one donated one. The children were going to make one this afternoon with crepe paper and a broom handle.”
“What?” Annie said, slamming on the brakes. Everything in the back shifted to the front, then shifted backward again when Annie surged forward. “Well, we’re going to get one right now,” she said, swerving into an Arco station. “C’mon, Albert, we’re getting the biggest and the best tree this gas station has to offer.”
Desperate Measures Page 32
