Christmas Riches (Riches to Rags book 4)

by Mairsile Leabhair

  I nodded. “Absolutely. I would love it. Those kids are a ton of fun.”

  “Well, if that guitar is for my son,” Loretta said, “we’ll be leaving him here until he learns to play it.”

  “Better leave your daughter, too, then, because there’s a drum set in that box over there,” Melinda joked, pointing at a large box yet to be unpacked. I knew that it wasn’t a drum set, but the look on Loretta’s face was worth the white lie.

  “Please… please tell me you’re joking?” she asked pleadingly.

  “You’re right, I am. But doesn’t the guitar sound so much better now?” Melinda asked with a mischievous grin.

  Loretta looked at her and laughed. “Yes, you are right about that.”

  As we finished with the Stormtroopers, we put one in each corner of the room. It looked as if they were guarding the presents for us, or keeping us from them, I’m not sure which. It took hours to put all the toys together and I was exhausted as midnight rolled around, but also excited as I looked at all the toys scattered about. Melinda had more energy than I did because she and George were flying the remote-controlled helicopters and drones.

  Before the night could end, Melinda and I still had one more event to attend before we could turn in. Charlotte had asked that the staff open their gifts on Christmas Eve, after the kids had gone to bed, which was perfectly understandable. The only tree that we couldn’t put Santa’s unwrapped gifts under was the servants’ quarters. All of their gifts had been wrapped and placed under the tree the same day it was decorated. So Melinda and I brought four big boxes up that night and watched as they opened them. Inside the big box was a smaller box, and inside it was another smaller box. Melinda’s idea of fun. Finally, they found an envelope inside the smallest box. In the envelope was a credit card with a thousand-dollar credit line to spend how they liked. The smiles on each of their faces told us that it was better to give equally to each employee, than to single out one each year. To my surprise, Charlotte hugged Melinda and me first, before the others could.

  “I’ve never worked for anyone like you before,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “And I’ve never had a butler as good as you before,” Melinda stated. “And believe me, I’ve had many butlers over the years. Oh, uh, I didn’t mean it like in a sexual way. I meant my parents have had many butlers, and—”

  “And I think it’s time we call it a night,” I laughed and pulled Melinda down the stairs.

  Ten minutes later, I came out of the bathroom in our bedroom, wearing a white, fur lined red teddy, red evening gloves, a Santa hat, and red-velvet, high heel pumps. “Santa said that you’ve been a good girl all year.”

  Melinda’s reaction was instant and gratifying.

  Christmas Morning – Chris Blackstone-Livingston and Melinda Blackstone-Livingston, Carl & Felicia Livingston

  I felt Melinda kiss me on the cheek and then get out of bed. “No, don’t go. Stay and keep me warm,” I asked, still half asleep.

  “Sure, baby,” she replied, slipping back under the covers.

  She laid on her side and wrapped her arm around my stomach. I pulled her hand up to my heart and took comfort in its warmth. Her body, perfectly fitting to my curves, wrapped me in ethereal warmth. And then I heard her stomach growl, and I chuckled. So that’s why she was getting up before the sun.

  I rolled over to face her and asked, “Did you get my Christmas list filled?”

  She grinned and kissed me on the nose. “Not yet, but now that you’re awake, I can check off your list within ten minutes.”

  “Make it twenty, okay? It’s Christmas and I want to enjoy opening my gift.”

  “I think that I’ll be the one opening your gift,” she proclaimed as she slid her warm hand under my negligée and across my cold breasts. “And I fully intend to enjoy it.”

  Our lovemaking was beautiful and effortless. Sometimes we get so heated up that we reach the climax within five minutes of being touched. But this morning, her gift to me was a slow, simmering, tantalizing pressure that had me begging for release, and then begging not to be released because it was so exquisitely divine. So divine that I gave her gift back to her and asked her to rewrap it twice more before I fell asleep from sexual exhaustion. Merry Christmas to me!

  When I woke again, the sun still wasn’t up yet and Melinda had left again. I had a twinge of sadness until my loins reminded me that my gift from her was still giving. I laid there a moment, snuggled up in a soft blanket, and relived that tingle with a smile on my face.

  Unfortunately, Norma’s calico kitten, Pluto, and my tuxedo kitten who I call Blackie, interrupted my interlude with their loud meowing. They wanted their morning treats. We had locked them in the room with us last night to keep them from being frightened or trampled when the kids stampeded out of their rooms this morning. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, next time I’ll put them in a guest bedroom and let them play with their Christmas presents.

  Suddenly I realized it was Christmas, and like a kid, I jumped out of bed, startling the cats, and hurriedly gave them their treats. Then I jumped in the shower, blow dried my hair and put on my makeup. Finally, I ran down the stairs. Melinda was waiting for me at the bottom.

  “Good morning, again,” she said, and kissed me gently on the lips.

  “Good morning, wife of mine, and Merry Christmas,” I replied, and kissed her back.

  “You’re just in time. The kids are about to come running down the stairs any second now.”

  “Really? What time is it?” I asked, thinking they should have been down before now.

  “A little after four. Only Norma is up so far, and she’s in the living room,” Melinda said.

  “What on earth are you doing up so early?” I teased.

  “I had to let in your Christmas gift,” she grinned with a surreptitious glance at the living room. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the living room.

  “But you already gave me my gift,” I rationalized. “Wait. You had to let in my gift? You got me a dog?”

  She laughed. “No, I didn’t get you a dog. This is something much better.”

  I stopped and looked at her. “I thought we weren’t going to get each other gifts because we already have so much.”

  “You’re right, we did agree to that. Besides, this gift is not from me.”

  I walked behind her into the living room and suddenly she jumped out of the way, and there, standing beside the fireplace, were my parents.

  “Mom! Dad! Oh, my God! How? I thought…” I choked on my words and the tears ran down my cheeks. I couldn’t even take another step, I was so overwhelmed, so my parents came to me and we hugged, kissed, and hugged again.

  “We decided that you were much more important to us than schmoozing with the boss, so here we are,” my father explained and I ran into his arms again.

  Finally I composed myself and looked at Melinda accusingly.

  “Don’t look at me.” She shrugged. “This was all their decision.”

  I turned and looked at Mom.

  “Well, it wasn’t that hard a decision to make after you—”

  Mom suddenly stopped talking and I turned to see Melinda waving her hands in the air.

  I shook my head and squinted my eyes. “All right, you two, what’s going on? Melinda, did you break your promise to me?”

  “Not technically,” she responded sheepishly.

  “Chris, like she said, it was our decision to make and we made the right one,” Dad assured me. “All that matters, honey, is that we’re all together for Christmas.”

  “I completely agree, Dad.” I looked at Melinda, smiling warmly and wishing that her parents would walk through that door and surprise her just as mine had done.

  Christmas Morning – Melinda Blackstone-Livingston and Chris Blackstone-Livingston

  My life up until last year had always been about me and what I wanted, and heaven help those who didn’t give me what I wanted. But today, this morning, watching Chris and her parents hugging
, I realized that my life was now all about what she wanted. She didn’t want a new, expensive car, or a yacht, or anything like that. All she wanted was to have her parents with her on Christmas Day for no other reason than because she loved them. That’s a concept that will take me a while to understand. I know my parents love me, as I do them, but now, as I see how happy Chris and her parents are together, I understand that there could have, should have been more.

  When Chris’s father called me yesterday to let me know they would be here, the first thing I did after jumping for joy, was tell Norma the good news. I told her because I had to tell someone and she was available at the time. She suggested that I let the Livingstons surprise Chris, which was my thinking as well, but it was damn hard to keep the secret. I still had issues with it not being all about me, but have learned that when it comes to my wife, no one, not even myself, gets in the way of her happiness.

  Suddenly there was a loud noise on the stairs, as if a herd of elephants were charging down them. “The kids are up,” I said with a laugh.

  The kids rushed into the living room and looked around, expecting presents, confused when they didn’t find any.

  “We’re waiting on your parents to get up,” Chris told them.

  The kids looked at each other as if having a telepathic conversation, and then ran out of the room and thundered back up the stairs.

  I laughed. “Yeah, I suspect that they will be joining us in just a minute.”

  “Reminds me a lot of when you were a little girl, Chris,” Felicia said. “We never got to sleep in on Christmas morning. I miss that.”

  Chris wrapped her arm around her mother’s middle and they stood there, arm in arm. The contented look on my wife’s face was the only present I would ever need.

  The smell of coffee wafted through the air, and we followed it into the kitchen, where Konani’s automatic percolator was brewing up the much-needed stimulant. Everyone grabbed a cup from the counter and the second the coffee was ready, poured themselves a cup. I grabbed a diet soda from the refrigerator and we all gravitated toward the vestibule, waiting for the kids to come back down with their parents.

  “Coffee’s in the kitchen,” I said, as one by one, the adults begrudgingly hobbled down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and pulling tighter on the belts around their robes.

  Someone was missing… George. Where was George? How could he possibly sleep through all this noise?

  The kids were getting very antsy, wiggling around as if they had to go pee, and I noticed that the parents seemed to deliberately move slower, as if to prolong their agony. Then I realized, they were making memories of their own. Once everyone was ready, I led the way to the ballroom. When I got to the double doors, I stopped and faced the kids.

  “You may not believe in Santa Claus, but he believes in you and the proof is in this room. Now, I want you guys to be cool, okay? Don’t run in there and start breaking stuff because you’re so excited, and—”

  Chris shook her head and laughed. She walked around me and unlocked the doors, swinging them open. The kids went ballistic. The ballroom looked like Santa’s workshop with toys everywhere, Christmas music rocking, the tree twinkling, and The Polar Express model train tooting its horn as it ran across the tracks hanging down from the ceiling. It was all so magical.

  The kids were like hummingbirds, darting from one toy to another. The parents were like the kids, only much slower. Konani’s mother, Akela, and Norma sat together on a couch and watched the kids as if they were watching a tennis match. Chris and I had bought several mini-eight instant cameras and printers, enough for everyone, and put a place card beside each one that read help yourself. There were a couple of those on the coffee table in front of the couch, and to my surprise and great satisfaction, Norma was taking pictures of her great-grandkids. Akela followed her lead and picked up a camera and started snapping pictures.

  Besides the still cameras, I also had digital video cameras in the ballroom, living room and dining room. I didn’t want to miss a minute of the action, like Konani on the floor, playing with one of the twins, or Loretta placing a wig on Norma Junior’s head, both laughing at the results.

  Charlotte and Baylee-Ann took up residence in two of the chairs on the other side of the tree, and Kate chased after her toddler. Carl and Felicia sat on one of the couches, with Chris in between them, and all three were holding hands. Thank you, God, for making that possible. For making all of this possible.

  Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and I plopped down in the middle with the kids and started playing. There were a few collisions between the walking robot and the flying helicopter, but thankfully nothing was broken. I should have thought to buy duplicates just in case. The next thing I knew, the sun had come up and the temporary butler declared it was time for breakfast. As I got up and began herding the kids out the door, Chris took my hand and pulled me to the side.

  “Honey, we don’t really need the temp staff today, do we?”

  I didn’t know how to answer that. In my lifetime, there had always been a full complement of staff in the house, and that included on Christmas Day. The only time that didn’t happen was last year when I accepted the challenge from Chris to abstain from my money for a month. I still shiver when I think of it, but I am also proud that I passed the test.

  “Uh, do you not want them here?” I asked.

  “It’s not that. I just think they should be with their families on Christmas Day.”

  “All right, I’ll tell them to go home,” I said, and then turned to leave.

  Chris grabbed my hand. “Wait, let’s tell them together. Do you have their bonus checks?”

  “Sure, let me run upstairs and get them, and you gather the temp staff together, okay?”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me. Meet you back in the living room in a minute.”

  In spite of my reputation, I don’t leave money lying around, no matter how much I trust the people working for me, so I ran up the stairs and to the safe in our bedroom. We were going to give them their bonus on Sunday, but Chris was right to want to give it to them today as a Christmas gift. It was only 250 dollars, but Chris assured me that it was a lot of money to them. Besides, we only gave our beloved staff a thousand bucks, wouldn’t want to make the wrong statement by giving as much to the temp staff.

  I waited in the living room and in just a few minutes, Chris, the temp butler, cook and maids came walking in. It’s funny that Chris didn’t mind extra maids during the holidays, yet we only had one maid the rest of the year. After Baylee-Ann walked in on me because she couldn’t get her work done in a timely fashion, I considered asking Chris about hiring more help. Maybe now was the time to do that… or maybe I’ll put it off for a while in case she wants to fight me on it. I don’t want any negative energy ruining her holiday.

  Once we had taken care of the temp staff, we went into the formal dining room and joined everyone for breakfast. It was a Southern breakfast served buffet style. It was an impressive spread of sausage gravy over biscuits, ham and gravy, and my personal favorite, chocolate gravy over homemade drop biscuits. There were several quiches with ingredients ranging from sausage, ham, bacon to steak, Louisiana sweet potato pancakes, which I had never had before so I piled a couple on my plate, flapjacks, Johnny cakes, apple pancakes with apple syrup, French toast, corn hash fritters, and my personal favorite, ambrosia. Hash browns, grits casserole, which I passed on, fried potatoes and onions, which I took an extra spoonful of, breakfast pork chops, and steak and eggs. In fact, there was every kind of egg imaginable – scrambled, fried, boiled, over easy, or under cooked eggs. And of course all kinds of breads – sweet cornbread, Mexican cornbread made with corn kernels and jalapeños, toast, biscuits, muffins, donuts, banana bread and my favorite, cinnamon rolls.

  My eyes were definitely bigger than my stomach, because I had to push my plate away and undo the button on my jeans. I should have paced myself, but I had been smelling the food since five A.M. That’s w
hen the cook started baking. Like sex, it was a pleasurable torture that you could only handle for so long before something had to give.

  The wonderful smells didn’t stop just because breakfast was over with. Now I smelled the turkey and ham baking. My family always had turkey for Christmas, and Chris’s family always had ham, so the cook prepared both, along with a roast, a whole chicken, and fish that would be fried closer to dinner this afternoon. I was now realizing it was a mistake to let the cook have the day off, because thirty minutes after we all cleared the breakfast dishes, my wife, Felicia, Loretta, Konani and her daughter, Kalea, were in the kitchen cooking. That didn’t seem like much fun to me, but Chris assured me that, to her, it was heaven. I brushed the flour from her cute nose and then kissed it. Popping her on the behind, I left her to it, and went to play with the kids’ toys... I mean with the kids.

  Christmas Dinner – Chris Blackstone-Livingston, and Melinda Blackstone Livingston, Staff and Guests

  Once I explained that we were on our own for the rest of the day because we had let the temporary staff go home, everyone was more than willing to pitch in. Cooking with my mother and the other ladies was so much fun that I could have gone on for hours. Surprisingly, we had everything ready by one o’clock, the hour we had set as our goal. I asked Melinda to have the kids wash their hands and comb their hair, while Dad, George, who had finally gotten out of bed, and Ben set up the tables for the buffet line. Charlotte, Baylee-Ann and Konani’s mother, Akela, set out the glasses and scooped ice into them, while Melinda and the kids brought out the utensils and napkins. Kate put her toddler down for a nap in the playpen that we had set up in the ballroom, and with the baby monitor clipped to her jeans, she joined in with setting up the dining room.