The Christmas List: A Novel

A Christmas Eve snowfall gently descended on the city like a final consecration of the season. The Blue Plate Grill was nearly as deserted as the streets outside, as people had already gone in for the evening’s festivities. Inside the diner there were three customers: an elderly couple sharing a chocolate shake and fries, and an unkempt man in a booth sitting next to a canvas army surplus backpack with a rolled sleeping bag tied to its top.

Kier sat himself in a corner opposite the other diners. Laminated menus lay horizontal in a metal stand on the table next to the salt and pepper. He took one out; it was less than a minute before a young waitress approached his table. Her dishwater blond hair was pulled back and tied with an elastic. She wore a creamsicle-orange smock with a white collar and apron.

“Good evening.”

Kier smiled. “Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you. Did you get a chance to look over the menu?”

“Yes I did.”

“What can I get for you?”

“Just a cup of coffee.”

“Cream and sugar?”

“Just cream.”

“Anything else? We have a pretty good mincemeat pie. It’s fresh.”

“Not a real fan of mincemeat. Looks too much like road kill.”

“I’ll take that as a no on the mincemeat.”

“Do you have apple?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yes, but honestly you’d be better off with the mincemeat. We have pumpkin. Our pumpkin’s good.”

“Pumpkin sounds great.”

She looked at him a moment. “You look familiar. Have I waited on you before?”

“I don’t think so. This is my first time at the . . .” He looked at his menu. “. . . Blue Plate Grill.”

She smiled. “Maybe you just have one of those faces. I’ll be right back with your coffee and pie.”

She disappeared through a swinging door. Kier glanced around the diner. The elderly couple were now looking into each other’s eyes and the other man had fallen asleep. The waitress returned a moment later with his order. She carried a can of Reddi-wip under her arm. “I forgot to ask if you wanted whipped cream on your pie.”

“Love some. Thank you.”

She sprayed a dollop of cream on the pie. “There you go. The sugar’s in the canister, and here’s your ticket. When you’re ready I’ll ring you up.”

“You can do it now.” Kier pulled out his wallet. He reached inside and brought out a bill. “Here, keep the change.”

Celeste stared at the bill then handed it back. “You gave me a hundred.”

He put his wallet back in his pocket. “I know. Merry Christmas.”

She looked at him gratefully. “Thank you.”

“So how’d you get so lucky to work the Christmas Eve shift?”

“Luck had nothing to do with it. I needed the money.”

Kier nodded. “Tough night to work.”

“You do what you’ve got to do.”

“I like that. It’s heroic.”

“Yeah, I look like a hero, don’t I? Superwoman.”

“Not all heroes wear capes. Or silver underwear.”

She smiled.

“So who watches your boy when you work late?”

Her expression changed. “How did you know I have a boy?” she asked warily. Then she turned pale. “Are you with Child Services?”

“His name is Henry, right?”

Her eyes flashed with fear. “Please, I know he’s too young to stay by himself for too long. But he’s very mature for his age. And I couldn’t find anyone to watch him tonight.”

“Relax, Celeste, would someone from Child Services tip you a hundred dollars?”

“How did you know my name?”

“I know quite a bit about you, Celeste. We’ve been looking for you for almost four weeks now.”

She looked positively terrified. “Are you a bill collector?”

“Not tonight.” Kier took a sip of his coffee. “So, tell me, do you still believe in Santa Claus?”

“Please, whatever I’ve done . . .” She started to tear up. “I’m just doing the best I can.”

“Celeste, I’m not a caseworker and I’m not a bill collector. You don’t need to get upset.”

“Then what do you want?”

“That’s the right question. I would like the chance to make things right.”

She looked at him blankly. “Who are you?”

Kier took a last quick sip of his coffee and stood. “I want to show you something. But you’ll need to follow me to the parking lot.” Kier looked past her. “That okay, Charles?”

Celeste turned toward the kitchen. She hadn’t noticed that her boss, Charles, was standing near the counter watching the exchange. He smiled at her. “It’s okay Celeste. I think you should go.”

She looked back and forth between the two men. “What’s going on?”

Kier lightly rested his hand on her shoulder. “Come with me and see.” She followed Kier out to the parking lot.

“Where are we going?”

“Your car.”

Celeste’s car was parked beneath a lamppost; the snow had been scraped from the roof and windows. As they approached Celeste realized that her car wasn’t empty. “What’s this?”

Linda was parked a few spaces away; she and Mason got out of the car, holding hands as they approached Kier and Celeste. Celeste watched the whole thing confused, as if she’d unknowingly walked into a play where everyone knew their part except her.

Linda said, “You must be Celeste.”

“Please, what’s going on?” Celeste asked her.

Kier motioned to her car. “See for yourself.”

Celeste looked apprehensively at Linda, then walked up to her car and looked inside. The back and passenger seats were filled to the ceiling with gaily wrapped packages. She looked over to Kier, then to Linda and Mason, then back to Kier.

Kier stepped up to her. “This is my friend Linda and her son, Mason.”

Mason waved. “Hi.”

“Linda works for me. She found you for me. We think Henry needs to believe in Santa. And so do you.”

She turned and looked at him. There were tears in her eyes. “Please, tell me who you are and why you are doing this.”

“You were right when you said I looked familiar. I’ve never been to the diner, but we have met.” Kier reached into his shirt pocket, brought out a business card and handed it to her.

She looked at the card then back up at him. “I don’t understand.”

“Celeste, I’m the guy who talked you into buying that home you couldn’t afford, then took it from you when you couldn’t pay for it.”

“You’re . . .”

Kier nodded. “My name is James Kier. I own Kier Company. I’m here to tell you I’m sorry. And, if possible, to make amends.

“I can’t give you your house back, because someone else owns it. But I have a nice little home I think you’ll like. It’s in a better neighborhood, with better schools, and you would have about the same amount of equity as you lost. Which means you have your life savings back.”

“What if I can’t afford it now? My credit score is . . .”

“Don’t worry about it. I hold the note, so I’ve adjusted your payment to match what you’re currently paying on your apartment.”

“How do you know so much about me?”

“Linda’s good with details. But here’s the part I think you’ll really like. There’s a very nice mother-in-law’s apartment in the basement, so you could rent it out for enough to cover your mortgage. And I think I already have a tenant for you.”

Tears began to well up in Celeste’s eyes. “Why are you doing all this?”

“I’m not dying,” Kier said quickly.

Linda smiled.

“Celeste, there are good people in this world. People like you who struggle, but still do their best to do the right thing. Everyday heroes. You’re one of them. I’d like to be one of them someday.” He felt the emotion of the situation catching him and he cleared his throat. “You have my card. Come see me in the new year and I’ll drive you by the house myself. In the meantime, you should go home to your son. I’m sure there’s something in those boxes he’ll like. Mason was a big help. He picked out everything a boy Henry’s age would want.”

Tears were now running down Celeste’s cheeks. “I can’t believe this is happening. This is an answer to prayers.”

“More than you can imagine,” Kier said.

Linda walked up to her still holding Mason’s hand. “Merry Christmas, Celeste.”

“Thank you so much,” Celeste said.

“Thank Mr. Kier. He’s the one who did it all.”

Celeste looked at him. “May I hug you?”

“You want to hug me?”

She nodded.

“Sure.”

She threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Mr. Kier.”

“My name is Jim. Now, go on home. It’s Christmas Eve.”

She wiped her eyes. “My shift’s not over.”

“No,” Kier said, “you’re officially checked out. I worked it out with Charles.”

She glanced back at the diner. Charles was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed at his chest, and a big grin covering his face. He saluted her, then walked back inside.

“Come see me soon. We’ll finish the paperwork for the loan and I’ll take you by the house. And be sure to bring Henry. I’d like to apologize to him as well.”

“When can we move in?”

“Any time after New Year’s. As soon as I’m back to work.”

She looked at Kier as fresh tears fell down her cheeks. “You are the finest man I’ve ever met.”

Kier smiled. “Go home. Your son’s waiting.”

Celeste hugged Kier again, then she hugged Linda and Mason and climbed into her car. She waved to them as she drove off.

Linda walked over next to Kier. “Well done, boss.”

“That went well. Better, at least, than my visit with Grimes.”

Linda grinned. “This has been the best Christmas. For both of us, huh, Mason?”

“Yep.” He nodded vigorously.

Kier nodded. “You know, that was kind of fun.”

“And you didn’t need to buy Mason that remote control car,” Linda gently chided.

“It was all business. Shopping consultants get paid well.”

She took a few steps back and looked at him. “You did it, you know. You completed the list.”

“Well, a success rate of one out of five isn’t great, but you take what you can get. Which reminds me, you left a very important business associate off the list.”

Linda looked concerned. “Which one?”

“You. Mason tells me he gets home from school around two-fifteen. It’s good to have a mother there when you get home. The occasional baked cookies, asking how the day went, simple things, but fond memories for a child. I’m thinking we should try a little experiment. You work at the office in the morning, then at lunch you go home and work the rest of the day. I’ll get you a laptop and a dedicated line for the computer. What do you think?”

“Really?”

“Of course, this will affect your salary a little.”

“How little?”

“Probably about five hundred a month.”

She frowned. “I appreciate you being flexible for me, Mr. Kier, but we couldn’t get by on that.”

“Oh.” He rubbed his head. “Well, then we better make it an even thousand.”

She looked at him alarmed.

“I’m giving you a raise, Linda.”

She started to cry. “I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s easy. Say thank you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now I’ve got to get home. I’ve kept Sara waiting too long already.”

Linda suddenly leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Celeste was right, you know. You are a good man. The finest. Merry Christmas boss. And give Sara my best.”

“Merry Christmas, Linda.” He looked at Mason. “And you too, big guy.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kier.”

Linda took Mason’s hand and turned to walk away.

“Linda,” he called after her.

She turned back. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

A wide smile crossed her face. “You’re welcome.”