She leaned back and took his face in her hands so she could look in his eyes. “I already have.”
Kier looked at her in wonder. “How could you? I don’t deserve it.”
“That’s what makes it love.”
CHAPTER
Forty
CHRISTMAS EVE
Kier Company had never before hosted such an event as their first Christmas bash, and Linda, the party’s chief architect, saw to it that it would not be soon forgotten.
The conference room table was covered with a festive red and gold cloth and arrayed with as fine a spread as the season could offer. There were more than two dozen different pastries and sweets: Mexican wedding cookies, pizzelles, raspberry-topped butter cookies, baked meringues, walnut-embedded brownies, miniature éclairs, and chocolate-dipped strawberries. There were croissants and an assortment of breads and rolls to be made into sandwiches with Swiss, cheddar, provolone, Dubliner, and jalapeño jack cheeses; rare roast beef, smoked turkey, crab salad, honey-baked ham, corn beef, pastrami, and a variety of German and Italian sausages.
Large ice-filled crystal bowls were packed with plump shrimp next to scallop-shaped dishes of cocktail sauce, herring in sour cream and platters of Swedish meatballs and bacon-wrapped scallops.
There were three different kinds of quiches. Sliced bananas, pineapples, apples, mangos, pears, and large seedless red grapes were piled on a silver platter next to cascading fountains of white, milk, and dark chocolates for dipping.
To drink there was hot wassail, soda water with Italian flavorings, and nutmeg-dusted eggnog as thick and rich as melted ice cream.
Christmas music filled the building’s hallways. The classics: Burl Ives, Perry Como, and Mitch Miller as well as newer artists like Mariah Carey and Kenny G.
There was a tall Christmas tree in the front lobby, strung with blue lights and silver baubles each with an employees name written in glitter. Someone had hung a sprig of mistletoe above the water cooler, which a few employees had already put to good use.
Kier arrived late and walked around greeting employees, shaking hands and sharing jokes. Kate, from Collections, placed a Santa cap on Kier’s head and, to everyone’s surprise, he just smiled and made no effort to remove it.
Kier spotted Lincoln at the conference table filling his plate with food. He walked up to him.
“Lincoln, my friend. Merry Christmas.”
“Jimmy. Nice bash.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I figured a party like this might be a once-in-a-lifetime event.”
“No, it’s going to be an annual event,” he said, smiling broadly. “Did you bring the papers?”
“Got them in my car. But why do you want them? I thought you said everything between you and the Missus was copacetic.”
“Better than copacetic. Sara and I want to burn them. Kind of a ritual.”
“Got it.” Lincoln bit into an éclair, the cream erupting from its sides onto his chin.
Linda walked up to the men. “Hi, Lincoln.”
“Hi, doll. Merry Christmas.”
She grabbed a napkin and dabbed the cream from Lincoln’s face. “Hey, I have a Christmas riddle for you. An honest lawyer and Santa Claus were walking together when they both saw a ten-dollar bill on the sidewalk. Which one picked it up?”
Lincoln grinned. “Probably the lawyer.”
“No, it was Santa. Everyone knows that honest lawyers don’t exist.”
Lincoln shook his head. “Et tu, Linda?”
“Sorry.”
Kier nodded proudly. “Well done.”
Linda smiled and took Kier’s arm. “Thank you. Now it’s time for your toast. Excuse us, Lincoln.”
“Certainly.” He went back to the buffet.
Linda led Kier to the center of the office, turned off the music and whistled loudly. “Quiet please. Quiet.” The group quieted expectantly. “Mr. Kier would like to share a toast.” Linda turned to her boss. “Mr. Kier.”
“Thank you.”
He looked around the room. In one hand he held a glass of ginger ale and he put his free hand in his pocket. “You know I’m not one for speeches. But if any year deserves one, it’s this one. This has been an . . . interesting year. You all experienced my death.” There was scattered laughter. “But, more importantly, you’ve experienced my rebirth. I am grateful for the second chance.
“I hope you all get what you want for Christmas. I got what I wanted. I’ve spent the last three days with my sweetheart. My wife.” He paused. “We humans—at least some of us, are seriously flawed. The things that are the most necessary, the most critical to us, are the things we take most for granted. Air. Water. Love. If you have someone to love, you are lucky. If they love you back, you’re blessed. And if you waste the time you have to love them, you’re a fool.
“This is my advice to you. Make the most of the time you have with those you love, because . . .” He paused, and for the first time ever the employees of Kier Company saw their boss tear up. “. . . because you don’t know when it will end. And the best time to figure that out is ten years ago. But the second best time is right now.” He raised his glass. “To second chances.”
Everyone raised their glasses. “To second chances.”
The noise level rose. Kier lifted his glass again. “One more thing.”
Linda whistled again and the place quieted.
“Thank you,” Kier said. “To show that I’m serious about what I said—about spending time with your loved ones, I’ve instructed Tim that we are officially closed between Christmas and New Year’s. There will be no business transacted at the Kier Company at this time. You all have the week off with full pay.”
The room erupted with wild cheers.
“I wish you all a very Merry Christmas.”
There was even more applause and the employees of Kier Company happily crowded around him. Kier smiled and shook hands and as soon as possible stole back to his office. He took off the Santa cap, shut his door, then sat down at his desk. He immediately called home. “Hi, honey.”
“How’s it going?” Sara asked.
“It’s going well. Everyone seems to be having a good time.”
“Sorry I couldn’t make it. Were they excited about the time off?”
“Ecstatic. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. Jimmy and Juliet are visiting.”
Kier smiled. “Tell them hello. I’ve just got this one meeting, then I’ll be home.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Sara?”
“It just sounded so good to hear you say that.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” He hung up, and smiled as he lifted the Allen folder. It was much thicker than the last time they’d met; the plans for the new development had been added. As he perused the file’s contents there was a knock at his door.
“Come in,” Kier said.
Tim Brey poked his head inside. “Got a minute?”
“Sure.”
Brey stepped inside carrying a small package. “Linda said you were hiding out back here.”
“You know how I am with crowds.”
“Well, you wowed this crowd. They were positively giddy.”
Kier smiled. “Is anyone still out there?”
“A few of them. But it’s finally winding down.” He walked up to Kier’s desk. “Karen and I have a little Christmas present for you.” He held out a package wrapped in gold foil tied with a glossy gold ribbon.
Kier took the present. “Thank you.”
“It’s just a little something we found at an Amish shop on our vacation back in Bird-in-Hand.”
Kier unwrapped the gift. “A music box,” he said, “a Christmas music box.” He held it up to the lights. It had brass hinges and corners, and a holly leaf flourish was burnished into its polished lid.
“It’s beautiful.” He opened the lid. Inside was a silver cylinder beneath a glass cov
er. The cylinder immediately began to turn, plucking from a row of silver tines a Christmas tune: I heard the bells. He gently closed the lid and the music stopped. “Thank you. Give Karen and the kids my best.”
“I will. Merry Christmas.”
“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said that to me.”
“It’s the first time I wasn’t afraid you would laugh.”
“You’re probably right. Merry Christmas to you, too. Thanks for all you’ve done for the company this year.”
“It’s been my pleasure. So you’ll see Sara tonight?”
Kier smiled. “I’m back home. Sara wanted to come today but she didn’t feel up to it.”
“Well, give her my best. From me and Karen.”
“I’ll do that.”
Brey looked down for a moment then said, “I want to apologize for the things I wrote about you. They were mean, disloyal, and ungrateful.”
“Sounds like a good description of me. I’m sorry I ever acted in a way that made you want to write that.”
“What you said about second chances, that’s true for me as well. Thank you for giving me another chance. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t. I know it.”
“I think next year is going to be a very good year for Kier Company.”
“I’m sure of that too. Merry Christmas, my friend.”
“Merry Christmas, boss. And God bless.”
CHAPTER
Forty-one
A few minutes after Brey left his office, Linda’s voice came over the speaker. “Mr. Kier, Mr. Allen is here.”
“Thank you, Linda. Send him in,” he said, then added, “and go on home, it’s Christmas Eve.”
“I will. I’ve just a few things to finish up before the very generous holiday you just gave us.”
The door opened and Vance Allen stepped hesitatingly into the office, still wearing his overcoat and holding his felt Stetson in his hands.
Kier looked coolly at him from his chair. “Have a seat.”
Vance sat down, growing more anxious by the moment.
“So you have my money?”
Vance grimaced. “I have this.” He set a check on the desk. “Thirty-seven thousand. It’s all I could raise. You can keep it as a bonus. Please, just give me a little more time.”
Kier picked up the check. “Where did you get this?”
“I cashed out our 401K, our IRA, everything we had in savings.”
“That wasn’t wise. The IRS is going to penalize you.”
“I know.”
He set the check on the desk and pushed it forward. “I’m sorry, I can’t take it.”
“It’s Christmas Eve, Mr. Kier can’t you show just a little . . .”
“A little what?”
“Compassion.”
Kier took a deep breath. “Compassion, huh. The thing is, if I cut you a break, then what happens? Word gets out that Kier’s gone soft. People stop honoring their commitments. Bedlam.”
“No one needs to know. It’s just between us. I promise.” He leaned forward and pushed the check back. “Please, take the money. I just need a little more time. It’s only a month.”
Kier took the check and tore it up. “I’m sorry, I’d like to take your money. Really I would. Taking money is one of my favorite things in the world. But I can’t.”
Vance dropped his head in his hands.
“. . . but I can give you more time.”
Vance’s head rose. “What?”
“I can give you more time.”
Vance looked at him incredulously. “How much time?”
“How much do you need?”
“Three weeks. Five tops.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? Just like that?”
“Just like that. Of course, we’ll have to change the terms of our agreement. Adjust the rates a bit.”
“How much is a bit?”
“Well, prime is currently 5.7 percent. I’m thinking, say, 6 percent.”
“But I’m already paying double that.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ve overcharged you. How about we just let it ride for the next three weeks. Or five.”
Vance’s expression changed from wonder to embarrassment. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”
Kier stood, walked around his desk and sat back against its edge. “No, sir. I’m not. Let’s just say I’ve had a change of heart.”
Vance looked at him quizzically. Then he asked, “Are you dying?”
Kier laughed. “We’re all dying, aren’t we? But hopefully not soon.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“How about ‘Merry Christmas.’ Now get home to your family.” He handed him the pieces of the torn check. “Take this with you. The IRS allows you a fourteen-day window to return the money to your accounts without a penalty. I suggest you do so.”
Vance’s eyes watered. “God Bless you, Mr. Kier.”
“He already has. Merry Christmas.”
Vance wiped his eyes, then stood. “It is now.” He thrust out his large hand. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”
Kier looked at his hand and took it, shaking it firmly. “You’re welcome, my friend. I’m sorry for the worry I put you through.”
“Forgiven.”
After Allen left, Kier shook his head and smiled. He unconsciously reached for his hand sanitizer, then caught himself and put it back without using it. He took the music box Brey had given him and lifted its lid. The sweet, gentle sound of its tines rang through his office. Kier spoke softly the words of the hymn, “Then pealed the bells more loud and sweet, God is not dead nor doth he sleep. The wrong shall fail the right prevail, so peace on earth good will to men.”
Forgiven. Just like that.
CHAPTER
Forty-two
There was a gentle knock on the door and Linda walked in. Kier looked up at her as he shut the lid to the music box. She sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“Nice party,” he said.
“You paid for it.”
“How much . . .” He stopped and held up his hand. “I don’t want to know. I thought I told you to go home.”
“I just had a few things I needed to finish up. What did you do to Vance?”
“Usual stuff. Broke him. Drove him to his knees. He was crying, wasn’t he?”
“He asked me if you were dying.”
“I get a lot of that lately.”
“He told me that you’re a good man.”
“Yeah, now I know you’re joking.”
“I have a Christmas present for you.” She reached inside her purse and brought out a scrolled piece of parchment tied with a red bow. She handed it to him.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.” He untied the bow, then unrolled the paper. A smile grew on his face as he read what she’d written. “You found her.”
“It wasn’t easy. I thought it was hopeless but then Mallorie over at the title company noticed a discrepancy on the foreclosure document. When Celeste purchased the home she had signed with a different last name than the one she used when she relinquished it. I guess she was still using her married name.”
Kier looked back at the paper. “So she’s a waitress.”
“At a little diner in West Jordan. She’s working tonight.”
“On Christmas Eve?”
“Yes.” A smile crossed Linda’s face. “I have an idea. A really wonderful idea.”
Kier looked at her. “Well, let’s hear it.”
CHAPTER
Forty-three
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.”