ELOISE AT RIVERPLACE

The night before Christmas Eve, Jackie comes over at around nine. The knock, knock, knock on the door. "Come in Jackie!"

The door is open and I am at my desk.
I had a little wine but poured it back in the bottle. I wasn't in the mood.
Christmas activities take energy and focus.

I sit tucked into my desk with a box of thank you cards and a wad of twenties.

Jackie and I go through the list of River Place employees (left in our mail boxes) and decide who I should give money to.

I ordered an extra box of organic fruit from Urban Organics with my weekly box of vegetables. We line a cardboard box with red wrapping paper and arrange grapefruit, oranges, apples, kiwis and rolls of cookies in the box. We make a sign to tape to the box. I print it out in big red and green letters from my printer.

It reads,

"Happy Holidays!

To the staff of River Place

Organic Fruit from Urban Organics

Thank You!

Charlie
apartment #916"

Jackie gasps at how perfect it is.

"Oh Charlie. This is bea-ooooo-tiful.! I mean gor-g-ous! I can't believe how beautiful that sign is Charlie!"

Her reaction (like she's staring at a new born baby) makes me laugh.

I ask Jackie if she'll carry it down to the front desk. It weighs a lot.
Jackie is totally willing, totally into it. She's high on the pre-Christmas flurry.

Jackie is "Eloise at Christmas Time" and I am the more sober Aunt.
I guess I'm Kay Thompson? And actually, our apartment building is kind of a great place to be at Christmas time. The lobby is bustling with people carrying gift wrapped packages, toys and christmas trees. It kind of reminds me of the illustrations in "Eloise at Christmas Time".

When Jackie returns from delivering the box of fruit, I ask her to get the stack of chocolate bars from the kitchen.

"Jackie, I'm sorry to boss you around but will you get the candy bars I bought at Ikea? They're stacked near the cans of soup."

"Charlie! Don't apologize. I NEED direction. I'm like an actress on the stage. I don't know where to go unless someone tells me."

Jackie brings the candy bars over to my desk crowded with unsent Christmas cards, gift wrap, scotch tape and unpaid bills. I order Jackie to get rubber bands from the secretary in the living room. We use the the rubber bands to attach candy bars to the thank you cards (which have folded twenty dollars bills inside).

Then Jackie deliverts the few Christmas cards I managed to write (I used the free ones you get in the mail from CARE and HABITAT FOR HUMANITY) to the mailbox in the lobby. Before she goes, Jackie asks me to wrap a gift for for her son-in -law with my IKEA red wrapping paper. (I got four rolls of paper at IKEA for one dollar. This impressed Jackie hugely. She is devoted shopper of the 99 cent store).

When Jackie comes back, I write the gift card to her son in law.  Jackie (like most of her generation) has lovely loopy handwriting. Mine is graphic, chicken scratch but Jackie insists I write the card.

"You're handwriting is great, mine is HORE- able." Jackie makes a comically tragic expression when she says this.

When I'm done, after I attach the card to her package, Jackie again coos, "this is beauooo- tiful!!  He's going to love this Charlie, I mean it, he will LOVE this!"

Jackie has some gifts for me. This was unexpected. I would have got something for her but I can't seem to think ahead. And I can't just walk into a store so .... I don't have much to give this year.

Jackies gifts are undisguised re-gifts: a miniature portable (lime green) bible - Jackie inscribed my name,
love Jackie, and the date, on the first page, a bar of bitter-sweet chocolate,  a cd of classical musical that someone gave her, (Jackie tells me that she wasn't raised with refinement but that I was so I'll appreciate it), a bottle of vanilla extract, and a book, "The Purpose Driven Life".

I page through "The Purpose Driven Life". There are several passages that have been underlined with a blue ball point pen. I point this out to Jackie and Jackie feigns shock. She insists I read the passages that were underlined over and over to her.

"Things don't happen up for nothing Charlie. This is a sign. I'm supposed to hear this. What does it say?
Read it to me. Read it again!"

It's time for our movie.
I've netflixed "Holiday Inn" with Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire.

We get a bottle of sparkling cider from my kitchen and a bag of potato chips from hers and watch the movie at her apartment.

When we get to Jackie's apartment, we can't find the DVD of "Holiday Inn".
Jackie leaves me on her settee and  goes back to my apartment for to search for the missing movie.

She returns fifteen minutes later with the lost DVD.

"Turns out I left it by the mailbox when I mailed your Christmas Cards. The guys at the front desk think I'm crazy!"