Dina turned away, massaging her forehead. “I’ve got a splitting headache.”
Patti reached for her purse. “I’ve got some pills.”
“I’ve already taken two.”
“I bet you didn’t sleep, did you?”
“Not much. Look, Patti, don’t get me wrong. I want to go—I mean who wouldn’t want something like this? I’d be crazy not to want it, but a part of me just doesn’t trust it. It’s too mysterious, too weird and unpredictable. And, anyway, if I don’t sign the contract, so what? My life goes on. It’s fine.”
Patti stared, unconvinced. She snatched Dina’s cappuccino, took a long drink and replaced the cup. Placing both elbows on the table and resting her face in her hands, she met Dina’s weary eyes.
“Okay, so let’s review Dina Lee’s life here.”
“No, Patti. Come on….”
“Yes, Patti. Okay now, Dina Lee is born in Ohio. Average middle-class upbringing. No brothers or sisters, an only child.”
“I had lots of good friends,” Dina said, defensively.
“…Had good friends, okay, fine. Graduated from high school, went to college for…”
“Over two years.”
“…Over two years, majoring in?”
“News Media and Communication Technology.”
“Okay, good. Didn’t graduate, because you ran out of money and you didn’t want to take out more loans, and you refused to accept money from your parents.”
“I didn’t want them to dip into their retirement.”
“Admirable, Dina,” Patti said, not taking her eyes from her friend, “But stupid.”
“What do you mean stupid?” Dina said, raising her voice.
“Because you could have finished school, gotten a good job and paid them off in a couple of years.”
Dina’s eyes narrowed. “So maybe it wouldn’t have been so easy to get a good job in a couple of years. So maybe I would have struggled to pay my bills, just like I do now, and I wouldn’t have been able to pay them back. I would have felt awful. Anyway, after their deaths, I found out from a lawyer that my parents didn’t have much savings. They didn’t have that much money at all. They would have had to take out a loan to help me.”
Patti flicked a hand, to end it. “Okay, whatever. So, let’s move on…”
“I know all this, Patti.”
“But have you put it all in perspective, Dina? Have you really sat with it and analyzed it? Nooo, Ms. Dina Lee, I don’t think so or you wouldn’t be so friggin’ confused by everything.”
Dina rolled her eyes.
Patti continued. “Anyway, then Dina is waitressing at a local establishment in Ohio when she meets a man. They fall in love.”
“You can skip this, Patti,” Dina said, with dread and irritation.
“Okay, I’ll skip over it. You meet this guy and fall in love. Turns out, he’s a lawyer from Denver, who travels back and forth from Columbus, Ohio to Denver. Months later, he suggests you move to Denver. So, you do.”
Dina cut in. “And it turned out that he was married, and I know that, and you know that, and I wish I hadn’t told you all this.”
“You told me because I’m your friend, Dina. Okay, so you dumped his sorry lying ass and moved from Denver to the quiet, but quaint little Colorado town of Pine Village. You’ve been here a little over two years. You’ve dated only twice, and neither guy interested you, although they seemed to be attracted to you. So, here we are at the coffee bar, and I’m still struggling to understand what the hell is the matter with you because you’ve just won the friggin’ lottery, okay? Your big ass ship has come in, Dina, and you don’t want to even go out and meet it. Finally, in summation: Dina, you’ve got nothing to lose. Your life is boring. You’re stuck. You’re confused. The contract said you can cancel the trip at any point, for any reason, and at any time. Let me repeat: you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain—the trip of a lifetime. A chance to see the world in first class style, keep all the clothes, all the jewelry, all the shoes, whatever you buy with that ten thousand bucks, and live happily ever after, because you will never, ever, forget this once-in-a-lifetime, stupendous and incredible Christmas vacation. It’s a vacation that every woman on this planet dreams about, but will never, ever get the opportunity to take. So, for my sake, Dina, and for your sake, Dina, and for the sake of every woman on planet Earth, Dina, take the friggin’ trip and don’t look back.”
During most of Patti’s monologue, Dina had kept her eyes focused on the table top, with both hands massaging her forehead.
“I’m telling you, Patti, there has got to be a downside to this. There’s got to be.”
Patti heaved out an audible sigh. “The only downside I see,” Patti said, “is that ten thousand dollars.”
“What do you mean?”
“The contract says you can’t keep any of the extra ten thousand that you don’t spend per day. So, that means if you only spend say, five thousand one day, and no more than that, you can’t shove the remaining five thousand into a Swiss Bank account. In other words, you lose what you don’t spend. So, spend it all, baby, on whatever.”
“On what?”
“You’ll think of something and,” Patti said, batting her eyes, “don’t forget your friends. Hey, the world is filled with items with big price tags, Dina. It’s what truly makes the world go around. Forget about the love, just give me the money to buy those pretty things, with the big price tags.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Finally, having unloaded all that was on her mind, Patti shot up, went to the counter and ordered a coffee and cheese Danish. While she flirted with the barista, Dina eased back and watched the place swell up with the morning crowd.
Dina shut her eyes, struggling to imagine who her benefactor could possibly be, but nothing and no one came to mind. No one. Her mind was a blank.
The night before, she’d asked Charlie if the chauffeur had hinted at who the anonymous person was, but Charlie had vigorously denied knowing anything, and she had believed him.
If she decided to take the vacation, would Charlie agree to let her off? She couldn’t lose her job. Surely, her mystery person had taken all that into consideration. Charlie would surely be paid off, and maybe he already had been paid off, in a small way, with more to come if she agreed to sign the contract.
In the end, Dina knew Patti was right. What did she have to lose? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And anyway, there was the slight possibility that after it was all over, and she returned to Pine Village, she might learn who her mystery benefactor had been. Perhaps they, he or she, would reveal themselves. That was another reason she was leaning toward signing the contract. Who would give her—a nobody—such an extravagant Christmas present and want nothing in return? She wanted to know. She had to know, even though right now, she had no idea how she would go about finding out. One thing was certain: if she didn’t sign the contract, she’d never know, and that gnawed away at her.
“Dina,” she whispered to herself, eyes shut. “You know you’re going to sign that contract. You have to. You’ve never been to Europe or New York City. You’ve never even been to Florida.”
“Are you talking to yourself, Dina?” Patti asked, standing over her, coffee cup in hand.
Dina opened her eyes. “Yes, I was. I had a sudden idea. Why don’t you come with me?”
Patti laughed. “You read the contract. It’s for you and only for you. No companion tickets or hotels, remember?”
“Yes, but you could fly over and I’d have thousands to spend on us both. It wouldn’t cost you a thing.”
Patti sat down. She bit into the cheese Danish and chewed energetically, with her mouth open, an unattractive habit that Dina had always ignored, not wanting to offend her good friend. Despite Patti’s brash exterior, she was actually very sensitive.
“You didn’t read the contract completely, did you, Dina? You forget that I’ve been studying to be a paralegal, on and off for the last five years, and I ca
n read a contract. Anyway, the contract specifically states that no other person or persons can accompany you on said vacation, and no money received can be spent on said person or persons. Selfish, yes, but whoever this person is, they wanted you to have everything, and to not share it with anyone. Man, would I like to meet this piece of work. But anyway, Dina, I couldn’t go, even if I had the money. My mother would flip out, and I have to buy her a new wheelchair for Christmas. Hers is worn out. So, I have to work, and I have to be with her during the holidays. My brother’s somewhere in Alaska—ever the engineer looking for oil, and he’s not coming home for Christmas. We all know about my father. He’s remarried and happy to be rid of us all, and we think he’s a loser anyway, so that’s that. So, I’m out, and you’re on your own, Dina.”
Dina shivered at the words “on your own.” She didn’t like being alone, even though she lived alone, and had grown used to being alone. Who really likes being alone?
That night, Dina went to the ice skating pond that was only minutes from her apartment. She sat on a wooden bench, skates beside her, watching the skaters glide and turn; she saw couples holding hands, dipping, sailing, misty vapor puffing from their laughter. She looked beyond the pond to the quiet countryside that lay white and crisp beneath the crescent December moon, a sheet of snow stretching away to the line of distant pine trees.
Dina laced up her skates and joined the skaters, feeling the crisp cold wind wash across her face, lifting her spirits as skating always had. She’d learned to skate in Ohio as a little girl, holding her father’s hand as he coached and guided her, picking her up when she fell, and encouraging her when she’d performed elementary turns and spins.
Dina stood next to the wooden railing for a time, feeling the bracing wind. The glistening ice was covered with a thin layer of snow, as flurries fell and children squealed in delight and stuttered across the ice like clumsy toys, reaching, falling and laughing. Dina loved the frosty night air and the twinkling Christmas lights strung in the pine trees around the pond. Christmas carols sang from speakers, perched on the slate roof of the rental house, where people looked on, sipping coffee and hot chocolate from thermoses.
Dina pushed away, skating effortlessly, finding her stride, finding the zone of perfect balance and flying freedom. Her breath came fast, in white puffs, as she circled, arms outstretched, face presented to the crisp, frosty night.
It was during her last loop of the pond that she had the sudden feeling she was being watched—carefully watched. She slowed, examining the faces of skaters who passed; searching the crowds standing beyond the rail; scanning faces near the rental house. Was she imagining it?
There were families and couples; teen-age boys eagerly observing groups of girls, who were giggling, pretending not to notice.
Dina grabbed the railing, waiting and searching, clouds of vapor puffing from her mouth. And then she saw something that caught her attention—a tall man, wearing a long cashmere topcoat, who turned away from her and strolled leisurely up the stairs toward the parking lot. His shoulders were hunched and he was hatless, revealing short dark hair, dusted with snow.
Dina had the impulse to go after him. She swept away from the rail, skating briskly toward the rental house, but then skidded to a stop when she saw him disappear into a misty cloud of falling snow.
CHAPTER 5
“Mr. Timmons?”
“Yes…”
“This is Dina Lee.”
“Hello, Miss Lee.”
Wrapped in her bathrobe, Dina was leaning against the kitchen sink, sipping a cup of coffee. She’d awakened at 8am, padded into the kitchen and signed the contract without another minute’s thought, determined to get it over with. The previous night, off and on, she’d paced and circled the table where the contract lay, feeling caught between excitement, anxiety and wild imagination. Was she really going to do this?
“Yes, hello, Mr. Timmons. I’ve signed the contract. Should I bring it over to you or drop it somewhere before noon? The contract says it has to be signed by noon today, Monday, December 12th.”
“Let’s see,” Mr. Timmons said, “it’s just after eight o’clock. If it is all right with you, I’ll pick it up around 10 o’clock. Is that okay?”
“Yes… I’ll be here.”
“Very good then. I’ll see you then.”
“Oh, Mr. Timmons, let me give you my address.”
“No need, Miss Lee. I have it. 347 Morningside Road, Apartment 5.”
Surprised, and then not so surprised, she said, “Yes…that’s it.”
“See you at ten, Miss Lee.”
Dina ended the call and set her coffee cup down. She released the towel that turbaned her hair and shook out her damp hair, her eyes again wandering toward the envelope that held the signed contract. She simply couldn’t imagine what lay ahead of her or how it had come about. Who had done this, and why?
At 10 o’clock sharp, when her doorbell rang, Dina snatched up the envelope and sprang up from the living room couch where she was wrapping Christmas gifts. Dressed in jeans and a burgundy sweater, she paused at the hall mirror for a last quick glance at herself.
She opened the door and Mr. Timmons nodded a smile. “Good morning, Miss Lee.”
Dina noticed the obtrusive limo in the apartment complex parking lot, and she was sure her neighbors were peering out, gossiping, faces filled with sharp interest.
“Would you like to come in, Mr. Timmons?”
“Just for a moment, so I can advise you on what to expect in the next day or so.”
Dina stepped aside. Mr. Timmons removed his chauffeur cap and entered the small living room, and then Dina closed the door behind him.
“Would you like some coffee? Some Christmas cookies?” Dina asked.
Mr. Timmons shook his head. “No, thank you. I’ll just take the contract.”
Dina picked up the contract, but hesitated for a second before handing it to him, still feeling a twinge of doubt. Mr. Timmons took the envelope, opened it and drew out the contract. He examined the signature and smiled.
“All right then. Everything is in order, so we can proceed.”
Mr. Timmons sat in an easy chair opposite the couch where Dina eased herself down, her pulse rising, her throat dry.
“Miss Lee, at 3 o’clock today, a Miss Veronique Bonnard will come by. She will be your personal assistant for the trip, and she will fill you in on wardrobe, what to pack, itinerary issues and so forth.”
“Mr. Timmons, I have to work today. I have to be there at 3:15.”
Mr. Timmons smiled evenly. “Miss Lee, your manager, Charlie Taylor, has agreed to grant you a twelve-day vacation, starting today, with pay, so there’s no need to be concerned about that. You will arrive back in time to work on Christmas Eve, which is what he required to release you from your normal schedule.”
Dina knew what that meant. Charlie had been paid off, otherwise he would have never consented to give her any time off during the two busiest weeks of the year. The question of her benefactor’s identity loomed even larger, and began to burn in her gut.
After Mr. Timmons left, Dina texted Patti and updated her. She finished with
Who in the world do you think this person is?
Patti texted back Santa Claus. Who cares?! Give me frequent updates so I can live vicariously. Going to miss you. Have fun, take care, and for Christmas’ sake, enjoy yourself!
While Dina waited for Veronique, she cleaned the house, began her packing and fussed over her Christmas tree, arranging and rearranging lights and ornaments. At five minutes to three her doorbell rang, and Dina jumped as if touched by an ice-cold hand.
At the door, she steadied herself, took a quick breath and opened it.
A thin, pretty woman of perhaps 30 looked back at her with warm, almond-colored eyes and a small friendly smile. She wore medium heels and a brown chic poncho woolen coat, with a tied white and brown silk scarf. Her rich auburn hair was styled in a shoulder-length medium shaggy bob and the golden h
oop earrings caught the light of the afternoon sun.
“Are you Dina Lee?” Veronique asked, in a pleasant French accent.
Dina nodded. “Yes. And you’re Veronique?”
“I am, yes. Veronique Bonnard. You were expecting me?”
“Yes,” Dina said, stepping back to invite Veronique in. “Come in… please.”
After Dina shut the door, she took Veronique’s coat and scarf and hung them in the closet. Dina ushered Veronique into the living room, noticing her very elegant houndstooth dress suit with a pencil skirt. Unlike Mr. Timmons, Veronique accepted the offer of coffee and Christmas cookies, and Dina exited, soon returning with two mugs of coffee. As Veronique viewed the Christmas tree, Dina returned with the cookies and set them on the coffee table.
Veronique eased herself down on the couch and Dina in the chair, directly opposite.
“It’s a lovely tree,” Veronique said, her small hands wrapped around the mug for warmth. “And it has such a lovely scent, and not so traditional a shape. It’s not so Hollywood perfect, which I believe is charming.”
“Thank you,” Dina said, pleased. “I’ve always been attracted to irregular things.”
“Seeing the perfect in the imperfect?” Veronique asked.
Dina laughed a little. “Yeah, I guess so. I never thought of it that way.”
Dina liked Veronique right off. She sensed a gentle spirit and a perceptive one. Her dancing eyes held lightness and intelligence.
“And it is so cold today,” Veronique added. “I was in San Francisco recently. So much warmer there.”
“Did you just arrive today?” Dina asked.
“No, I came yesterday.”
Dina thought, if she arrived yesterday, then they—whoever they are—were confident I was going to sign the contract. But then, what girl in her right mind wouldn’t sign that contract?
The Date Before Christmas: A Novel Page 5
