By Kathleen Clauson, Copyright 2008

Olivia and her husband Liam, hadn’t really exchanged gifts at Christmas for the past two years.  Of course they still went through the motions for their two kids, Sally and Bryce, who still believed in Santa Claus.  Liam took the kids one weekend to buy something special for their mother.  The next weekend Olivia helped them choose something for their father.  The four of them built gingerbread houses, hung stockings, wrapped presents, and iced the red bud trees along the lane with white twinkle lights.  And every year the kids took turns choosing the theme color for the indoor decorations.  This year Sally had chosen red.  Red Christmas lights sparkled on the fragrant pine branches, heavy with gold hearts and shiny red bulbs. 

It wasn’t that Olivia and Liam didn’t buy anything for each other—the magic had simply mellowed.

 Olivia had been thinking about it that afternoon when she was at Mary Hansen’s house to plan the neighborhood Christmas party.  She missed the joy of seeing the surprise on Liam’s face when her specially chosen gift touched his heart.

It wasn’t unusual for couples to become more practical and modest in their gift-giving as the years went by.  After all, she and Liam had been married ten wonderful years.  She thought of their wedding day, the cake icing on their lips in one of the photos, and the sparkle of their plain gold wedding bands.  Olivia’s ring looked exactly the same as it did the day Liam slipped it on her finger, back when she was a beautiful blushing bride with long dark waves of hair.  Her ring still looked like it was brand new, unscratched and undamaged.

That evening, Liam was later than usual.  When he got home, he hung his coat on the hallway coat-tree because it was covered with powdery snow.   They spent the evening under the red glow of the Christmas tree with Bing Crosby singing White Christmas in the background.

Liam went to bed after they tucked in the kids.  Olivia went back downstairs and sat alone in the living room with the illuminated tree.  Before she went upstairs, she decided to hang his coat in the hall closet.  It was dry now.

One side of his coat was heavy.  She felt inside his pockets, thinking he had left his car keys in his pocket.  Instead she felt a box, so she took it out carefully to have a look.  It was a fancy golden box, shiny and expensive-looking, like the ones from a jeweler’s shop.  She knew it must be for her and even though she didn’t want to spoil his surprise, she opened it up and found a diamond-crusted heart on a shimmering gold chain.  Olivia smiled and her eyes filled with tears.  She decided to put back the box and leave Liam’s coat on the metal skeleton for coats.

Christmas was only three days away.  After seeing Liam’s gift, she decided to find him something magnificent.  When they were first married, she spent many December afternoons searching relentlessly for the perfect gift for her husband. 

She had a book in mind for Liam so she spent the afternoon combing every used bookstore in downtown Chicago, looking for a first edition copy of Coney Island of the Mind, signed by Laurence Ferlinghetti. 

Laurence Ferlinghetti was a household name, at least in their house.  He was Liam’s god, his muse, an invisible inspiration that kept Liam pounding out his own poems. Liam’s study was a shrine.  Above his blue desk was a framed print of Ferlinghetti’s charcoal drawing Winged Creature.  The bookshelves were lined with his books of poetry, a room of metaphors.

Olivia hadn’t worn boots that afternoon.  After trudging through heavy wet snow, her toes were so numb she feared they were damaged by frostbite.  She found the book in an old decrepit bookstore on a forgotten street near UIC, owned by a chubby Frenchman, old as the hills, jolly as Santa.  His name was Antoine.  He was seated at a gilded cash register with a cup of coffee in a White Sox mug and a golden croissant when Olivia made her way through the front door.

“Good afternoon.  Would it be possible that you have a copy of “Coney Island of the Mind?”

“Black or with the cream?” he said, clearing a stack of French newspapers from a chair.

“I’m looking for a hardcover,” Olivia told him, slightly confused.  She loosened the scarf she had wrapped around her head, covering all of her face except for her bright hazel eyes.  From breathing in the cold air, her scarf was limp and damp.  She was chilled to the bone.  Her old coat had seen better days.  It was missing a coupon of important buttons and the wool was no longer soft.  It was covered with tiny pills of fuzz.  It was as though she was wearing a fall windbreaker, no longer capable of protecting her from the bitter cold.

“I ask to you of the coffee,” he said.  Please sit down and have a cup to warm you.” 

“That’s very kind of you.  Thank you.  I take it black.”  She sat down and from the floor to the ceiling were shelves and shelves of books. “I’m trying to find a copy for my husband for Christmas.  He really admires his work.  My husband is also a poet.  And he teaches poetry.”

“Let us drink the coffee and then I go to look.  I know there to be copies.  You know I once meet Ferlinghetti in France during the war. “

Antoine offered her a croissant, warm and freshly baked.  “From the bakery on the corner,” he told her. She tore off a layer of the crescent and dabbed creamy butter on it with a tiny pate knife.  As she nibbled, Antoine told her about his wife and when she had died.

She was much like you,” he told Olivia.  “There was nothing to her more special than Christmas.”

He walked to a short bookcase and pulled out a hardcover copy.  The dust jacket was in perfect condition.  He carefully opened it to show Olivia the title page.   Across the page was Ferlinghetti’s scrawling scratch of a signature.

“How much?”  Olivia crossed her fingers—this was “the” gift.  Liam would absolutely love this.

“A book like this, is in such very good condition, can sell for three hundred to five hundred.  Especially this one, printed in London.”  He sipped his coffee and smiled.  “But for you, you visit with me like an old friend.  I sell it to you for $100.”

Tears of joy filled Olivia’s eyes as she wrapped her arms around Antoine.

On Christmas morning, an hour before daylight, the lights twinkling, they sat down around the tree to open presents.   First Sally, then Bryce.  And then Olivia handed her gift to Liam.

  When Liam opened it he was grinning from ear to ear, jubilant, astounded she had been able to find such a fine copy.  “Thank you darling,” he said as he kissed her. 

Just watching his expression was gift enough for Olivia.

“My turn,” he said happily.  He handed his gift to Olivia.  “Merry Christmas, darling.”

The fancy golden box tied with a bright red ribbon.  It was an effort to contain her excitement.   After all, she wanted to act like this was a complete surprise.  She felt herself blush, like she was twenty years old again.  She gave Liam a quick kiss.  “Thank you, now this is quite a surprise,” she said.

She took a deep breath and carefully removed the ribbon.   She couldn’t stop smiling and giggling like a school girl.

When she opened the box, inside was a glittery red gift card from Macy’s.  The tricky devil, he probably had the other golden box hidden under a cushion on the sofa, playing it out. Pretending to give her something practical first.

“Oh, now this is nice,” she said, waiting for Liam to spring the heart necklace on her.

“Darling, your old coat is threadbare.  I saw so many beautiful red wool coats, but I couldn’t decide which one to pick.  So I thought you would prefer choosing your own.”  He smiled as though he had handed her a million dollars.

“It’s wonderful.  You’re right.  I do need a new coat.  Thank you, dear.”  Olivia sat on the sofa, still hoping there was another box.  After the kids were up to their necks in bright-colored wrapping papers and ribbons, Olivia kissed Liam lightly on the cheek and told him she would be back in a few minutes.

Olivia went upstairs, threw herself on their bed, the bed they had shared together every night for ten years, and she wept an ocean of tears as she wondered who was wearing Liam’s diamond heart.