Miracle by Connie Willis Read Free Book Online Page A

a dress for the office party last night, and do you think I could find anything off-the-shoulder or with sequins? I couldn’t even find anything I’d be caught dead in. Did you know the rate of stress-related illnesses at Christmas is seven times higher than the rest of the year?”
    “I can relate to that,” Lauren said.
    “No, you can’t. You didn’t end up buying some awful gray thing with gold chains hanging all over it. At least Scott will notice me. He’ll say, ‘Hi, Evie, are you dressed as Marley’s ghost?’ And there you’ll be, looking fabulous in black sequins—”
    “No, I won’t,” Lauren said.
    “Why? Didn’t they hold it for you?”
    “It was … defective. Did Fred want to talk to me?”
    “I don’t know. He was on his way out. He had to go pick up his Santa Claus suit. Oh, my God.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s Scott Buckley.”
    “Hi,” Scott said to Lauren. “I was wondering if you could go shopping with me tonight.”
    Lauren stared at him, so taken aback she couldn’t speak.
    “When you couldn’t go last night, I decided to cancel my date.”
    “Uh … I …” she said.
    “I thought we could buy the presents and then have some dinner.”
    She nodded.
    “Great,” Scott said. “I’ll come over to your apartment around six-thirty.”
    “No!” Lauren said. “I mean, why don’t we go straight from work?”
    “Good idea. I’ll come up here and get you.” He smiled meltingly and left.
    “I think I’ll kill myself,” Evie said. “Did you know the rate of suicides at Christmas is four times higher than the rest of the year? He is so cute,” she said, looking longingly down the hall after him. “There’s Fred.”
    Lauren looked up. Fred was coming toward her desk with a Santa Claus costume and a stack of books. Lauren hurried across to him.
    “This is everything the library had on exorcisms and the occult,” Fred said, transferring half of the books to her arms. “I thought we could both go through them today, and then get together tonight and compare notes.”
    “Oh, I can’t,” Lauren said. “I promised Scott I’d help him pick out the presents for the office party tonight. I’m sorry. I could tell him I can’t.”
    “Your heart’s desire? Are you kidding?” He started awkwardly piling the books back on his load. “You go shopping. I’ll go through the books and let you know if I come up with anything.”
    “Are you sure?” she said guiltily. “I mean, you shouldn’t have to do all the work.”
    “It’s my pleasure,” he said. He started to walk away and then stopped. “You didn’t tell the spirit Scott was your heart’s desire, did you?”
    “Of course not. Why?”
    “I was just wondering … nothing. Never mind.” He walked off down the hall. Lauren went back to her desk.
    “Did you know the rate of depression at Christmas is sixteen times higher than the rest of the year?” Evie said. She handed Lauren a package.
    “What’s this?”
    “It’s from your Secret Santa.”
    Lauren opened it. It was a large book entitled
It’s a Wonderful Life: The Photo Album.
On the cover, Jimmy Stewart was looking depressed.
    “I figure it’ll take a half hour or so to pick out the presents,” Scott said, leading her past two inflatable palm trees into The Upscale Oasis. “And then we can have some supper and get acquainted.” He lay down on a massage couch. “What do you think about this?”
    “How many presents do we have to buy?” Lauren asked, looking around the store. There were a lot of inflatable palm trees, and a jukebox, and several life-size cardboard cutouts of Malcolm Forbes and Leona Helmsley. Against the far wall were two high-rise aquariums and a bank of televisions with neon-outlined screens.
    “Seventy-two.” He got up off the massage couch, handed her the list of employees and went over to a display of brownboxes tied with twine. “What about these? They’re handmade Yanomamo Christmas