The Christmas List by Richard Paul Evans Page A

inside, stopping in the foyer to remove her coat. “Where are you?”
    â€œIn the living room.”
    She gasped when she saw him, “Omigosh . . .” Kier was lying on the couch. His nose had been set and bandaged and he had a bag of frozen peas on his forehead. His braced ankle was elevated on a stack of pillows. Both eyes were blackened. She quickly walked to him.
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œGrimes wasn’t all that happy to see me. Or maybe he was. I’m not sure.”
    â€œHe hit you for apologizing?”
    Kier grimaced. “I didn’t get that far.”
    â€œWhat can I do for you?”
    â€œYou can get me another cold pack from the refrigerator.”
    Linda lay her coat and the documents on the coffee table in front of the couch and went to the refrigerator, returning a moment later holding a blue cold pack and a bag of succotash. “Do you want the ice pack or the vegetables?”
    â€œI’ll try the ice pack.”
    She sat down next to him, lifted the bag of peas, then gently laid the ice pack on the bridge of his nose. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
    â€œIt was a great idea. One of my best.”
    She couldn’t tell if he was being facetious. “Maybe you could just phone everyone . . . or write a nice note.”
    â€œI destroyed their lives and you think I should write them a note?”
    â€œIt would be safer.”
    â€œI can’t argue with that.”
    â€œIt’s a good thing he didn’t have a gun.”
    â€œHe didn’t need one. He had a dog.”
    â€œExactly. So you’ll write notes?”
    â€œNo.”
    She stood, shaking her head at his stubbornness. “It’s your funeral.”
    â€œNo, I’ve been to my funeral. This isn’t so bad.”
    â€œThe documents are right there—on the table. There’s a drywall contract for the Bunten job and Tim Brey needed you to sign off on the development contract for the Allen property.”
    â€œI’ll look at that later.” He adjusted the icepack. “How is Brey?”
    Linda grinned. “Like a death row inmate with a commuted execution date. I think he’s waiting for the old James Kier to return.”
    â€œGood. It will keep him humble. Did he decorate the place?”
    â€œDecorate?”
    â€œDecorate, for Christmas.”
    She smiled. “Yes. It looks nice. Thank you.”
    â€œYou’re welcome.”
    â€œOh, Robyn at Le Jardin called this morning. Someone wants to rent the Garden Reception area on New Year’s Day. But they want a discount.
    â€œRobyn knows we don’t do that.”
    â€œShe knows. But in this case she thought she should ask.”
    â€œI pay her not to bother me with these details.”
    â€œIt’s for your son’s wedding.”
    Kier lifted the cold pack to look at her. “Jimmy? Why didn’t he call me?”
    â€œAccording to Robyn, the bride and her mother chose the place. She was pretty certain that they didn’t know you owned it.”
    â€œBut Jimmy does . . .” He lay back down. “He doesn’t plan to invite me.”
    â€œYou don’t know that,” Linda said.
    Kier sighed. “Yes, I do.” He closed his eyes. After a moment he said, “When I went to the other James Kier’s memorial service I met his son. He said his father was his best friend. Mine doesn’t even want me to come to his wedding. How could I have gone so wrong?”
    Linda didn’t say anything.
    â€œTell Robyn to just give them the place. The catering, flowers, everything they need.”
    â€œI’ll call.” She put her coat back on. “So now what?”
    â€œBack to the list.”
    â€œWho’s next?”
    â€œThe Wysses.”
    â€œThe Wysses,” she said thoughtfully. “Estelle’s in her eighties. At least you know she can’t beat you