(no subject)
It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas!
Part 1 0f 8
Larger than life snowflakes spun in the cool California breeze, twinkling with sparkling white lights. Busy shoppers rushed beneath them in an open air plaza reverberating with the jangle of a Salvation Army Santa’s bell and a group of carolers’ sweeter notes. The festive holiday garb of the shoppers was deceptive; LA’s temperatures hovered around sixty. As the sun sank below the horizon, the parking lot swirled with people packing cars with newly-purchased treasures and then filing onto crowded highways. A cacophony of Christmas carols poured from open car windows as traffic inched along.
Within the darkened cavern of the Los Angeles Symphony Hall, the orchestral strains broadened and deepened in a triumphant finale of ‘Joy to the World.’ As the applause for the concert faded house lights came up and concert goers began to rise and gather their wraps.
A woman gasped and declared with dismay, “My necklace is gone; it must have fallen.”
As her husband kneeled to search under the seat, a second voice cried out, “I’ve lost my watch!” and then another, “My grandmother’s ring is missing!”
The entire audience buzzed with a rising panic and patrons began to jam the concierge’s office to report the loss of their valuables. Recorded holiday music failed to override the sounds of the ensuing chaos.
*****
Phone cradled under her chin as she sat at her desk, Laura Holt nodded mutely, trying periodically to break into the monolog she was being subjected to.
“Yes, Mother. ..I’m on the red eye Friday … Sure, I’ll stop and get some on my way to the airport so they’ll be fresh. ... Uh, huh. I have all my gifts wrapped and ready to go. …Of course, I’d love to go shopping with you … All my favorites? The ones dipped in chocolate and crushed peppermint?”
Laura closed her eyes euphorically, opening them again as Mildred danced in, a plate of Christmas cookies in hand, the cheery croon of Karen Carpenter trailing her through the open door.
“Excuse me, Miss Holt…”
Laura held one hand up to hold Mildred off and put her other hand over her ear in order to hear her mother over the ‘evvverywhere I gooo…’ Mildred was humming along to.
“Mother, I’ve got to go. My secretary just...I know, I’ll see you soon. I can’t wait, Mother, but I still have work to attend to ...Love you too.” Hanging up the phone, Laura sighed and smiled wearily at Mildred. “Sorry to tie up the phone - my mother.”
“No problem, Miss Holt. Have a snickerdoodle. There’s nothing a cookie can’t make better. Go on - made them last night. This recipe has been in my family for three generations. My mother gave them a special touch by adding just a pinch of…”
“Miss Krebs! What was it you needed?”
“Oh, sorry. A Mr. Bell from the Los Angeles Symphony called. The boss asked me to have you handle it.” Mildred fished a scrap of paper out from under the cookie plate. “Here’s the number.”
“He did, did he?” Laura made a face. ”Oh, and Mildred, the holiday music is lovely, but perhaps during office hours we should turn the volume down just a little?”
“Sure thing. Just thought we could use a little Christmas spirit around here.” Mildred nodded at the phone. “So you’re spending the holiday with your mother?”
“And my sister and her family. Christmas is about the only time of year we enjoy being together.“
“Me and my sister and brother, too. Family. Once a year, while the lights are twinkling, we’re the best of friends.” Mildred smiled sympathetically as she turned to leave. “OK, I promised Mr. Steele a piece of my fudge.”
“There was fudge?,” Laura asked a bit wistfully as she gazed at Mildred’s retreating figure. Sighing as she again blocked the music from her ear with one hand, she dialed the phone number Mildred had given her with the other.
*****
“How are the plans coming, Mr. Steele?” Mildred whispered conspiratorially.
“Shh,” Steele looked nervously around Mildred to the door leading to Laura’s office, which Mildred had closed behind her. “Won’t do to tip our hand to Miss Holt too soon. These things must be presented in the right manner if there is to be any hope of winning her over. Losing her home, having Murphy and Bernice leave and her mother insisting on her traveling to Connecticut for the holidays have all been a bit stressful for our associate. A weekend getaway in the mountains will do all three of us a world of good. I’ve got the perfect little chalet in the mountains booked, just after Miss Holt returns from Connecticut. We’ll enjoy skiing, sipping hot buttered rum by the fire, reading some good books…”
“You don’t have to convince me, boss. I’ve got my bags packed already. Getting Miss Holt to leave the office behind? That’s another story. She’s a tough nut to crack.”
“Nuts! Mildred, cracked nuts!” Steele boomed out as Laura’s inquisitive look encompassed both he and his fellow conspirator, “Clearly the key to your delicious fudge recipe: well worth the work of cracking them!”
Steele pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at his nose briefly, smiling innocently at Laura.
Laura appraised the two for a moment before speaking. “Mr. Steele, we have a matter that requires our attention, if you can tear yourself away from those sweets for a moment. There have been some troubling disappearances at the symphony.”
“Lead the way, Laura; I’m all yours.” Steele snugged his tie up to his collar and came around from behind his desk to walk Laura to the door, picking up his suit coat as he passed the coat rack. “Keep up the good work, Mildred, darling. Look into equipment for that matter I was discussing with you earlier, won’t you?”
“You got it, chief. Behind you all the way.”
“What’s that all about, ’chief?’” Laura’s question held a trace of amusement along with her suspicion.
Steele motioned for Laura to enter the elevator ahead of him. “Well, Laura, Mildred’s been working so hard since she started with us. I merely suggested she pick out some new office equipment as a sort of a Christmas bonus.”
Laura looked long and hard at Steele before answering. “Don’t you think you should discuss personnel issues with me before making promises to a staff member?”
“A staff member?” Steele’s mouth rose in a half smile. “Surely you don’t begrudge Mildred a new coffee pot to replace the one you used to boil the wax out of the …”
“Of course not, Mr. Steele; I’d just like to be consulted,” Laura interrupted quickly. “It’s bad enough Mildred thinks you’re the boss. Sometimes I think you think so, too.”
The two walked briskly out into the sunny LA street. Spotting the limo, they walked toward it together.
“Never, Miss Holt.” Smiling beneficently, Steele wrapped a long arm around his companion’s shoulder. “I remain your humble servant.”
A matching smile crept about the corners of Laura’s face, “Very Dickensian of you, Mr. Steele. The ghost of Christmas present?”
“A Christmas Carol. Alastair Sim, 1951. Happened to catch it on last night’s late show. Can you imagine choosing cold, hard coins over love? Shall we, Miss Holt?” Steele opened the door to the limo, turning and sneezing loudly as he handed Laura in.