The Face

matter of Fric’s Christmas gifts.
        Any kid would have thrilled to the idea that he could submit a list of wanted items as extensive as he wished and that he would receive on Christmas morning everything he requested, precisely those items, nothing less, but nothing more. Yet it seemed to Ethan that this robbed Christmas morning of its delicious suspense and even of some of its magic. As this would be his first Christmas at Palazzo Rospo, he had approached Mrs. McBee in her office off the kitchen to inquire as to the protocol of leaving an unexpected gift under the tree, for Fric.
        [281] “God bless you, Mr. Truman,” she had said, “but it’s a bad idea. Not quite as bad as shooting yourself in the foot to observe the effect of the bullet, but nearly so.”
        “Why?” he had wondered.
        “Every member of the staff receives a generous Christmas bonus, plus a small item from Neiman Marcus or Cartier, of a more personal nature-”
        “Yes, I read that in your Standards and Practices ,” Ethan had said.
        “And staff members are thoughtfully forbidden to exchange gifts among themselves because there are so many of us that shopping would take too much time and would impose a financial burden-”
        “That’s in Standards and Practices as well.”
        “I am flattered that you have it so well memorized. Then you’ll also know that the staff is kindly forbidden from presenting gifts to members of the family, primarily because the family is fortunate enough to have everything it could want, but also because Mr. Manheim considers our hard work and our discretion in discussing his private life with outsiders to be gifts for which he is grateful every day.”
        “But the way the boy has to prepare a list and knows everything on it will be there Christmas morning-it seems so mechanized .”
        “A major celebrity’s career and life are often one and the same, Mr. Truman. And in an industry as large and complex as Mr. Manheim, the only alternative to mechanization is chaos.”
        “I suppose so. But it’s cold. And sad.”
        Speaking more softly and with some affection, Mrs. McBee had taken him into her confidence: “It is sad. The boy is a lamb. But the best that all of us can do is be especially sensitive to him, give him counsel and encouragement when he asks for it or when he seems to need it but won’t ask. An actual unexpected Christmas gift might be well received by Fric, but I’m afraid his father wouldn’t approve.”
        “I sense you mean he wouldn’t approve for some reason other than those in Standards and Practices .”
        Mrs. McBee had brooded for a long moment, as though consulting [282] in memory a version of Standards and Practices much longer than the one in the ring-bound notebook that she presented to every employee.
        At last she’d said, “Mr. Manheim isn’t a bad man, or heartless, just overwhelmed by his life… and perhaps too in love with the flash of it. On some level, he recognizes what he’s failed to give Fric, and he surely wishes that things were different between them, but he doesn’t know how to fix it and still do everything he needs to do to keep being who he is. So he pushes it out of mind. If you were to put a gift under the tree for Fric, Mr. Manheim’s guilt would surface, and he’d be hurt by what your gesture implied. Although he’s a fair man with employees, I wouldn’t be able to predict what he might do.”
        “Sometimes, when I think about that lonely little kid, I want to shake a little sense into his old man even if-”
        Mrs. McBee had raised a warning hand. “Even among ourselves, we don’t gossip about those who buy our bread, Mr. Truman. That would be ungrateful and indecent. What I’ve said here has been by way of friendly advice, because I believe you’re a valuable member of the staff and a good example to our Fric, who is more observant of you than you probably realize.”
        Now, in her memo, Mrs. McBee addressed the gift issue once more. “She’d had the day to reconsider her advice: As to the delicate issue of an unexpected gift, I find that I want to qualify what I told you earlier . A small and very special item, something more magical than expensive, if left not under the tree but elsewhere, and anonymously, would thrill the recipient in the way that you and I recall being thrilled on the Christmas mornings of our youth . I suspect that he would intuitively