Chapter Twenty-Five
Juliet
Gran pats Marcel’s arm. “The church organized it, mostly. Families around here give what they can.”
Marcel nods once, brusque, but I can see it, the crack forming in his armor. He follows Gran to a woman near the choir loft.
“Char, this is Mr. Dubois, but we call him the Grinch,” Gran jumps right in as Charlese, the choir director, listens.
“Welcome, Mr. Dubois,” she says as I hang back and let Gran handle this. “How can I help you?”
“I want to know if I could speak to the children who made these wishes and their parents?” Marcel looks like he can make money appear out of thin air, he even smells rich.
Char shakes her head, then smiles mischievously. “No, not unless you’re willing to wear a Santa suit,” she says with a laugh.
And just like that, Marcel Dubois, the stone-cold tycoon is taken to the choir room behind the altar, is padded with pillows, and stuffed into a red velvet Santa suit with a fake beard.
He’s a little grumbly about his outfit being itchy and hot, but the moment he sees the children gathering in the congregation, he quiets down.
I do not hold back my laughter. I giggle until my sides hurt, but he doesn’t care.
He sits, regal as any Santa, and the children line up, and when they shyly rattle off the things they put on the tree, he doesn’t stop there.
He leans down and gently asks, “What didn’t you write?” And they tell him about empty pantries, broken heaters, coats that don’t fit, and mothers who are too tired to cook.
My chest aches listening to them, but Marcel pays attention to every word as if he were actually Santa Claus. He keeps his questions soft and careful. I can see the fury simmering under the red velvet, but he never lets it show on his face.
Then, as if the afternoon isn’t surreal enough, I glance up to see Daniel Foster.
He’s tall, handsome, and immaculately dressed.
I haven’t seen him since this time last year.
Daniel is as close to an ex-boyfriend as I will ever have.
We didn’t really do anything more than date.
He got accepted to Penn State and I was off to my tiny hippy institute in the woods, so that was it; no long distance relationship for us.
Of course he’d show up here, his family comes to church every Sunday.
He and I are more casual church goers, and only come when our families insist. We see each other once a year, and usually go out to dinner and realize that we aren’t that into each other and it never goes farther.
He recognizes me instantly, his smile is too wide, and he’s way too excited. “Jules, the prettiest girl in Eaton is here,” he says loud enough for only me and unfortunately Marcel to hear.
Even behind the beard, I see his jaw clench. His hand curls into a fist on the arm of the Santa chair. If he weren’t surrounded by children, I think he’d have Daniel gripped in that fist.
“Daniel,” I say casually. “Merry Christmas.” I keep my tone light and pleasant.
This is a holiday, no need to feel weird about an old flame coming by to share seasons greetings. My smile is thin and plastic as I inch closer to Marcel.
“Merry Christmas, gorgeous.” Daniel comes close. “What are you up to? How’s it going at—wait, what school are you going to again?” Ugh, this guy.
“California Institute of the Arts and Sciences, Humboldt. How’s Penn State?” I ask, because this usually launches him into a tirade about himself.
“Good, I graduate next year and already I’m being head-hunted by the top financial investment firms. The future is bright, Jules, the future is bright.
We should get together before you go back.
I just broke up with a Mrs. Wrong and you’ve been on my mind.
This time might be our time.” What a smarmy jerk.
I can’t believe I was ever into this guy.
“Ah, I can’t Daniel. I’m pregnant and I’m getting married,” I say trying to keep a straight face.
Marcel lets out a ‘ho ho ho’ to cover his actual laughter.
“Woah, okay. Well, who’s the lucky guy?” Daniel’s bright sparkle has definitely dimmed.
“He’s no one you know, but he’s amazing.” I try to wiggle out of this conversation as it is getting into murky and dangerous territory.
“Pregnant first, huh?”
“Yeah, you know. Billionaires are weird ... ” I roll my eyes and give him a goofy grin and Marcel keeps laughing, though he’s also trying to focus on the little boy in his lap who wants a Tonka truck.
“I guess they are. Well, I’ll see you around,” Daniel says as he leaves.
“Yep, I’ll be around.”
Marcel’s body relaxes instantly, though his eyes still follow Daniel until he disappears into the crowd.
I flush with the truth and lies I’ve just told and feel a little weak, so I look at Marcel, who is waving another child over. He sneaks a peek at me and winks.
Marcel has spoken with the last kid and the wishes are still hanging on the tree, but not because Marcel ignored them.
He leaves them there deliberately for the community to give as they always have.
He’s planning something much bigger. As soon as the last kiddo has left and it’s time to start the service, Marcel stands up and Char lets the congregation know that Santa is leaving and that they are grateful he had the chance to stop by.
The kids cheer and wave as Marcel and I return to the choir room.
“Food, clothing, housing, heat; that’s all they are asking for. I can make their dreams come true by Christmas Eve. I know I can. It will also help with the post-Christmas demolition of the area. I just need to make some calls.”
I blink. “Christmas is four days away.”
“I don’t care,” he says fiercely. “I’ll find vacant properties. I’ll put every family in one and they’ll be warm, safe, and fed. They won’t want for anything.”
Gran walks into the choir room after overhearing our conversation, and though she says nothing about what she’s heard, her eyes shine. “They’re about to start the service. Best you two get out there. I saved us seats.”
The service is about miracles and I can’t help but think about how many Marcel is planning on making for those families in need.
When his driver takes us back to Gran’s, Marcel is already pulling out his phone, muttering about deeds and real estate maps.
He looks like a man possessed. As soon as we near Gran’s house, the car parks in front and Gran is about to get out.
“Wait,” Marcel stops her. “First, the driver will open your door,” Marcel offers Gran a loving smile.
“It’s his job and, second, before you both leave, I have a favor to ask.
” He takes a pause, then a breath before he asks, in a voice that is smaller than his usual commanding tenor, “Come to my house for Christmas. Both of you. Please.”
The please nearly undoes me. Because Marcel Dubois doesn’t beg and yet, he just did.
“We have to be here for Christmas Eve Eve, service, but after that we can go. You have some fancy transport to get us to New York? I’m gonna ride in a private jet?” Gran looks almost giddy at the thought.
“Of course you are,” Marcel affirms. “And Christmas Eve Eve? Is that a thing?” The poor guy looks so confused.
“Well, families have traditions on Christmas Eve so the church has their pre-Christmas service on the night before Christmas Eve. After that, Juliet and I are free to roam.” She gives him a wink and we both laugh.
“I think you might really get used to the high life, Gran,” I tease.
“Well, if he’s offering ...” The driver stands at Gran’s door waiting to open it for her. “So what do I do with this guy?” she asks Marcel.
“Is that a yes? Are you and Juliet coming to my house for Christmas?” Marcel asks, seeking clarification.
“Sure,” Gran answers. “It'll be fun to switch things up this year.”
“Great, then let him open your door and I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
I feel a pang of sadness leaving Marcel, especially because we've had such a great day together, so I turn to him before I scoot out of the back seat.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” I asked suddenly, feeling nervous that he'll say no.
“I do want you to stay with me, I always want you around, Juliet, but I think tonight I need to get my finances in order and see how I'm going to make magic for the families of Eaton. I'll probably be up all night and I want you and the baby to get plenty of rest.
“I will see you tomorrow at work. We still have two more days in the office before we can take off for Christmas break. I have some things that I'd like you to help me with.
“As hard as it is to say good night to you, I need to get some things done.” His voice is loving and sincere and I wonder what he is planning, but I kiss his lips and he sighs as if that isn't enough so I kiss him again more passionately.
He puts his arms around me and pulls me in and we enjoy our kiss as Gran pretends not to watch us.
“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Marcel says and I look at him and smile.
“I hope you always feel that way,” I tell him and we kiss one last time before I follow Gran to the steps of our building and watch him pull into traffic.
Gran and I go inside and as soon as we close the door she turns and looks at me. “We're getting pretty deep into this," she says, her voice sounding concerned. “Is this what you want?”
“I keep asking myself that and I always come back to the fact that I can't wait to see him again. Even now having him leave and not staying with us I miss him.
“When I first met him, I looked into his eyes and saw this bright, beautiful soul behind something really cold and broken. I kept thinking that cold and broken part would take over at some point but when we're together it never does.
“But no, I don't know if this is what I want. I don't even know if this is who he is but every day I see a man who I am falling in love with. I just hope I'm not falling in love with a lie,” I confess to Gran.
“You know, when I met your grandfather he looked at me the same way Marcel looks at you.
Granted we were the same age and he didn't have much more money than I did, but he had that look and he never lost it.
The moment he passed from this Earth was the look he had in his eyes, the one that said I was his shining star.
I was the muse that hung the moon, even if I had gotten old and lumpy in places.
Your grandfather wasn't always the greatest guy.
He had a temper and he was a little closed-minded but I always saw the good in him too.
“Your Marcel, he's the same kind of man as your grandfather. Down deep inside he's your biggest fan and because of this he's making changes to be the kind of man you need in your life.” Gran smiles with motherly love. “And we get to ride in a private jet.”
“It’s really fun.” We giggle and I do as Marcel suggested and get to bed early.
As much as I miss being near his body, we didn't sleep much last night and I enjoy having the bed to myself as a deep, hard sleep finds me.
The next morning I'm feeling energized and excited to see Marcel at work. I walk into his office after he waves at me with a phone in one hand. I quietly enter and take a seat, hearing his conversation in fragments. His voice is low and urgent.
“Get me every vacant multi-dwelling property east of the highway. Especially the new construction on Main and East. MLS says the building is open for bidding. Triple the offer, I want to close today, not tomorrow. I have an LLC, and put the properties under that. Use the interest on the Manhattan Bank account, get as good a deal as you can and buy in cash.” Marcel looks scary and intense, but he winks at me.
Coffee please, he mouths and I sprint to the breakroom and get him a triple espresso.
When I come back with coffee he has a yellow notepad in front of him with titles scribbled down the page.
Lawyers, contractors, accountants, all people whose names sound like power.
They’re being yanked into orbit, ordered to bend the impossible into shape before Christmas, all for children who asked for food and toaster ovens.
I set the coffee down and overhear him telling his lawyer, “Every family gets a year’s heating stipend as well as food, clothing, and bikes for the kids.” Marcel is obsessed, driven, and maybe a little reckless, but he is making things happen.
As soon as he gets off of the phone I ask, “What is going on here?” I'm loving and flirty but wonder if he's having a little mini breakdown.
“Well, I really want to bring Christmas to those kids.
Most of them are in the demolition Zone living in substandard housing without heat and food.
I didn't know that there were mass layoffs at both the fishery and the transport hub and distribution center.
These families have been without income for months.
So there's a new housing project that I'm bidding on and I'll get these families set up with the basics, but I'm also looking into different industries that can use skilled laborers and fishermen.
It's a little overwhelming, but these guys aren't going to live on handouts. I'm trying to work a little Christmas magic.” Marcel offers me a weak smile because I can see the fatigue in his eyes. “They didn’t ask for much. Not what I would’ve asked for. Just warmth and something to eat.” His voice cracks. “What kind of man was I before this?”
I want to touch him, to soothe the raw edges he never shows anyone else, but I don’t. Not yet. It hits me like a sledgehammer. This man, this arrogant, infuriating man, is trying to reinvent his soul four days before Christmas.
And he’s succeeding.