Cecelia Ahern - The Gift

Spinnaker down for the last time and approaching the finishing line, they radioed the race officer on Channel 37 and waited for recognition. Not first in, but they were all happy. Lou looked at Quentin as they sailed in, and they smiled. Neither of them said anything. They didn’t need to. They both knew.

LYING ON HIS BACK WITH people flying by him, Lou held on to his sore rib cage and tried to stop laughing, but he just couldn’t. He had done what he had been dreading and achieved the most dramatic and comical fall of the day. He lay in the center of the rink; Lucy was by his side, laughing, trying to lift his arm and pull him up. They had been holding hands and skating around slowly together when, too cocky, Lou had tripped over his own feet, gone flying, and landed on his back. Nothing was broken, thankfully, other than his pride, but even that he surprisingly didn’t care about. He allowed Lucy to believe she was helping him up from the ice as she pulled on his arm. He looked over to Ruth and saw a flash as she took yet another photo. They caught each other’s eyes, and he smiled.

They didn’t say anything about that day. They didn’t need to. They all knew.

It had been the best day of their lives.

SO HE SPENT THE DAY with his brother and he spent the day with his wife at exactly the same time.” The Turkey Boy wrinkled his nose.

“Indeed,” Raphie sighed, knowing how incredible it sounded.

“How do you know that? Did Lou tell you? I wouldn’t trust that Lou bloke, if I were you; he sounds like a bit of a sap.”

“No, I didn’t hear it from Lou. I heard it from his wife, and I heard it from his brother.”

“Oh.” The boy went silent. Then he perked up. “Hey, what are you doing investigating him, anyway? What did he do?”

Raphie was silent.

“Yes!” The boy rubbed his hands together with glee. “I knew you’d get the flash bastard on somethin’. Go on, tell us the rest.” He smiled with excitement, pulling his chair closer to the table so that he’d hear Raphie’s words as soon as they left his mouth.

ON THE MONDAY MORNING FOLLOWING his weekend of sailing and skating, Lou Suffern found himself floating down the hall to the office with the bigger desk and better light. It was Christmas Eve and the office floor was near empty, but the few souls that haunted the halls — dressed in their casuals — offered pats on the back and firm handshakes of congratulations. He had made it. Behind him, Gabe helped carry a box of his files. Being Christmas Eve, it was the last day Lou would have to prepare himself before the Christmas break. Ruth had wanted him to accompany her and the kids into the city for some last-minute shopping, but he knew the best thing to do was to get a head start in his new job.

So down he and Gabe went, to his bigger office with better light. When they opened the door, it was almost as though angels were singing inside, the morning sun lighting a pathway from the door to the desk and shining directly on his new oversized leather chair as though it were an apparition. Having already breathed a sigh of relief, Lou now took another deep breath for the new task ahead of him. No matter what he previously achieved, the feelings of having to reach again were never ending. Life for him felt like an endless ladder that disappeared somewhere in the clouds, constantly wobbling and threatening to topple and bring him down with it. He couldn’t look down now or he would freeze. He had to keep his eyes upward. Onward and upward.

Gabe placed the boxes down and whistled as he looked around.

“Some office, Lou.”

“Yeah, it is.” Lou grinned.

“It’s warm,” Gabe added, hands in pockets and strolling around.

Lou frowned. “Warm is…a word I wouldn’t use to describe this” — he spread his hands out in the vast space — “enormous fucking office.” He started laughing, feeling slightly delirious. Tired and emotional, proud and a little fearful, he tried to take it all in.

“So what exactly is it that you do now?” Gabe asked.

“I’m the business development director, which means I now have the authority to tell certain little shits exactly what to do.”

“Little shits like you?”

Lou’s head snapped around to face Gabe, like a radar that had found a signal.

“I mean, just a few days ago you would have been one of those little shits being told what to…never mind,” Gabe trailed off. “So how did Cliff take it?”

“Take what?”

“That his job was gone?”

“Oh.” Lou looked up. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t tell him.”

Gabe left a silence.

“I don’t think he’s well enough yet to talk to anyone,” Lou added, feeling the need to explain.

“He’s perfectly fine,” Gabe told him.

“How do you know?”

“I know. You should go and see him. He might have some good advice for you. You could learn from him. He’s decided to become a landscaper. Something he’s always wanted to do.”

Lou laughed at that.

Gabe didn’t blink, and stood looking at him as if disappointed.

Lou cleared his throat awkwardly.

“It’s Christmas Eve, Lou. What are you doing here?” Gabe’s voice was gentle.

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” Lou held his hands up questioningly. “What does it look like? I’m working.”

“Except for security, and a few stragglers, you’re the only person left in the building. Haven’t you noticed? Everybody’s out there.” Gabe pointed out at the busy city.

“Yeah, well, everybody out there isn’t as busy as I am,” Lou said childishly. “Besides, you’re here, too, aren’t you?”

“I don’t count.”

“Well, that’s a great answer. I don’t count then, either.”

“You keep on going like this and you won’t,” Gabe said. “You know, one of the most successful businessmen of all time, a certain Walt Disney — I’m sure you’ve heard of him, he has a company or two here and there — said, ‘A man should never neglect his family for business.’”

There was a long, awkward silence during which Lou clenched and unclenched his jaw, trying to decide whether to ask Gabe to leave or physically throw him out.

“But then” — Gabe laughed — “he also said, ‘It all started with a mouse.’”

“Okay, well, I’d better get to work now, Gabe. I hope you have a happy Christmas.” Lou tried to control his tone.

“Thank you, Lou. A very happy Christmas to you, too. And congratulations on your warm, enormous fucking office.”

Lou couldn’t help but laugh at that, and as Gabe closed the door behind him, Lou was alone for the first time in his space. He made his way to the desk, ran his finger along the walnut border to the pigskin surface. All that was on the desk was a large white computer, a keyboard, and a mouse.

He sat down on the leather chair and swung around to face the window, watching the city below him preparing for the celebrations. A part of him felt pulled outside, yet he felt trapped behind the window. In fact, he often felt as though he were trapped inside an oversized snow globe, responsibilities and failures sprinkling down around him. He sat in that chair, at that desk, for over an hour, just thinking. Thinking about Cliff; thinking about the events of the past few weeks and about the best day of all with his family, about the lessons he had learned. He thought about everything. When a mild panic began to grow inside him, he turned in his chair and faced the office. Faced up to it all.

He stared at the keyboard. Stared at it hard. Then he followed the thin white wire that was connected to the mouse. He thought about Cliff, about finding him underneath this very desk, clutching this very keyboard, swinging that very mouse at him with wide, haunted eyes.