The Perfect Gift

Shane was beginning to stress. Normally the most organized and well-planned of gift givers, she had yet to find the perfect gift for Oliver. Oh, she had located a couple of cute things that would be added to his main present (a game of Shakespearean Trivial Pursuit and a bottle of personalized Shakespeare Elderflower and Quince Gin to be precise) but she had yet to find 'the' gift. Hours had been spent scrolling online, but nothing seemed quite right. Every day that ticked closer to Christmas elevated her stress levels.

Asking Oliver himself was of no use. The first time that she tried, he replied that she was gift enough (cute but exceedingly unhelpful). The next time she dared to broach the subject he suggested giving to a charity instead (also sweet, but really? Shane was happy to give a village a goat, but she was pretty sure that it didn't need to have his name on it.) Things were getting desperate.

Shane was currently standing at her desk engaging in a little multi-tasking. A program running on her laptop was busily trying to find the intended recipient of a misdirected gift box. The box was handmade and hand-selected, with 'everything but the ice cream' adorning the outside. Inside was a selection of waffle cones, sprinkles, a jar of hot fudge, marshmallows, caramel sauce, bowls, spoons, mini Oreos, baked pretzels (pretzels, really?) chocolate chips, strawberry sauce, m&ms, toffee and chopped peanuts. Seriously, if this box wasn't off her desk by the end of the day, she would eat the lot and pretend it never happened. On her phone she was busy updating the #DLO Instagram account. (Maybe Christmas – with all of that goodwill towards others was the time to tell her section leader about that little side project?) On her tablet she was scouring online websites in search of…..Cufflinks? No, the man had more than enough (as well as some particular thoughts about what made a cufflink a classic). A letter opener? What was she thinking? His desk was moving steadily beyond hosting a collection into hoarding territory! She may as well look for a tie! Alright, Shane did look at ties and then thought about stabbing her tablet with a letter opener or five.

It was time to seek a little help.

Oliver was stuck in a department meeting, so she was lunching with Rita, Norman, and Charlie. The quartet bundled into winter coats and walked briskly to the Mailbox Grille. One seated, and with orders selected, Shane turned the conversation to presents – specifically what presents everyone else had found for Oliver. Rita and Norman had found a very old 'Dictionary of Etymology'. Oliver would love that! Charlie had found a paperweight in the shape of a cloud that was also some kind of barometer and changed with the weather. It sounded really cool! Was everyone better at finding gifts for her husband than she was? Then Norman, dear sweet oblivious Norman asked the question that was dangling over the conversation. He asked Shane what she was getting for Oliver this year. Norman was so horrified by her response (lots of tears and a almost intelligible comments like, 'worst wife ever', 'what kind of a wife can't think of what to get her husband for Christmas?', 'everyone had better gifts than her' and a whole lot of sniffles and sighs. Norman provided awkward pats on the shoulder and tissues, Charlie provided a fresh cup of coffee, and Rita some sound advice.

'Stop trying so hard,' Rita explained. 'The perfect gift is out there – you just need to look in the right places.'

The hope Rita imparted lasted about half an hour. It lasted until she received a phone call from Dale. Shane really did like Dale, loved her actually. After a tense beginning, the two were good friends. Dale was excitedly telling Shane all about the plans she had for the holidays (singing in the choir on Christmas Eve – with Oliver actually – and volunteering at a women's shelter on Christmas morning. Dale, Shane reflected, was definitely one of the good guys. After more chatter (where Shane asked after the leg Dale broke while pursuing a fugitive (thereby missing the O'Toole's wedding as she was in rehab, as well as the guy that Dale had just begun seeing) Dale inadvertently threw a little grenade in Shane's direction. Dale was waxing lyrically over the antique Presbyterian Hymnal that she had found for Oliver. Really? That was a fabulous gift! Did everyone have something perfect for Oliver? Everyone except her?

She was saved by a dinging from her computer. Someone was getting ice cream accoutrements.

Oliver was still in a meeting – Denver Main Branch was a great place to work, but really there were more meetings than congress! – so Shane was making her delivery solo. Twins Esther and Ethan were certainly happy to see her, or perhaps happy to see the missing gift from Aunt Ruth. After listening to their thanks, she made her way back to her car. As she started the engine, her phone rang again.

'Hey Joe.'

'Hey honey, how are you?' Joseph O'Toole asked.

'Okay…'

'Holiday rush got you down?'

'Something has,' Shane muttered under her breath.

'Guess what?' Joe sounded as excited as a five-year-old. 'You know how I decided to get all of my stuff out of storage back East and get it shipped here?'

Shane murmured something that sounded affirmative.

'Well, it arrived yesterday, and I started sorting it today, and you will never guess what I found…'

Shane decided that this could be a lengthy discussion, so she pulled into the parking lot of a store of some kind. Joe really was the best of fathers, and if he was excited and wanted to share, of course she would be excited with him. She gave herself a little mental shake, and then joined in his enthusiasm.

'I have no idea? A winning lottery ticket you didn't know you had?' she joked.

'Better,' Joe replied. 'I just found a box of books that I was just about to donate to a charity until I looked a little closer.'

'And…'

'I found Joseph Lindley O'Toole's journals! Letters, notes and poems – including some that I don't think have been previously published!'

'Wow, Joe that sounds so cool. Oliver would love to see those. I would love to see those!'

Joe was quiet for a moment, then exclaimed, 'You, Shane McInerney O'Toole, are brilliant.'

Shane was not feeling spectacularly brilliant. 'Why?' she asked.

'You have just given me the best idea for a present for Oliver' Had she? Oh, happy day.

'I am going to give the whole lot to Oliver to sort through. Thanks honey, you are a genius. Love you, bye!'

She was a genius? Then why did everyone else have the perfect gift except for her? She folded her hands over the steering wheel, laid her head down on it and sobbed.

Fifteen minutes of melodrama later, Shane sat up, wiper her eyes, grabbed some emergency make-up from her bag and redid her face. She needed to get home and begin searching for Oliver's present online – again. About to start the car, she looked around, taking in her surroundings. She was parked in front of a single-storey building that looked as if it had begun life as a bank or some other public building. Now, it proudly proclaimed it was the Greenwood Antique Emporium. Oliver, she thought, would love this place, with its sidewalk display of furniture, toys and vintage linens.

Wait…Oliver would love this place. Was this a trust the timing moment? With a renewed sense of purpose, Shane made her way inside.

Wow, this place was a veritable Aladdin's cave. Crystal decanters, antique French perfume bottles, Victorian inkwells … Shane hardly knew where to look. Everywhere she turned, she saw more precious and beautiful things. But would the perfect thing be here? Shane was almost buzzing with excitement. She felt sure that 'it' was here. Fine china, sideboards, ornate picture frames … Marble statues, walking sticks, a very lovely tea caddy and a very stylish coffee service that may very well be coming home with her. Lovely, desirable, but not 'it'.

Shane made her way along another row of delights. And then suddenly, there it was. The perfect gift. An elegant Victorian gentleman's travel bureau and writing desk, complete with compartments and crannies perfect for hiding a love-note of two. It was, well perfect!