Read Online A Christmas Hope by Joseph Pittman - Free Book Online

store is called A Doll’s Attic—a nod to your childhood and those aforementioned dolls you once played with,” he said. “Not to mention a rather subtle nod to Ibsen and his own Doll’s House .”
    â€œNot for nothing was I named Nora,” she said. “Just ask my mother.”
    â€œAh yes, a heroine who is forceful, loyal, but at times foolhardy.”
    â€œGot me this far in life,” she said.
    He pursed his thin lips, not saying anything when others might have a stinging retort. Not from Thomas Van Diver, this man was a true gentleman. Others would have pounced on such a pronouncement, especially in her vulnerable state.
    Then he resumed the conversation, diving into the deep end. “I want you to find a book for me,” he said, getting to the point quickly. “When I was a young boy, five years old to be exact, I accidentally stumbled upon a gift that my parents had hidden in the attic of our farmhouse. It was Christmas Eve, and the curious boy in me was rather impatient when it came to waiting for his gifts. Rather than scold me for my behavior, my forgiving father whisked me downstairs and allowed me to unwrap the gift . . . which turned out to be a book. It was a hardbound, illustrated version of Clement Clarke Moore’s Twas the Night before Christmas. With my mother at my side, and with our tree so beautifully decorated and the snow falling lightly outside, you couldn’t have pictured a more perfect scene, Rockwell at his finest, eh? Oh, I won’t bore you with all the details now, but I lost that lovely volume. I want you to find it for me.”
    â€œMr. Van Diver, there are probably hundreds of editions of that book around,” she said. “Finding yours would be like finding the proverbial needle in the haystack.”
    â€œAnd are you not in the business of locating those needles?”
    She considered his words before finally admitting he was right. “Touché.”
    â€œI can pay handsomely, an hourly rate, plus the cost of the book when you find it.”
    â€œIf I find it.”
    â€œDoubt should never enter the picture when you have a mystery to solve.”
    â€œOkay, when I find it,” she said agreeably. “But don’t expect miracles right away. Might take me a few months. I’m just getting my business open and getting myself up to speed and so I have many contacts to establish; this is a new world for me. But of course I can do some early digging, put out some feelers to out-of-print bookstores and antiquarian book dealers . . . oh, you’ll have to get me as many specifics about the volume . . . wait, let me get a notepad, I want to jot down some ideas . . .”
    Thomas had raised his hand, asking for a stop to her flow of words. “Please, wait.”
    â€œIs something wrong?”
    â€œIndeed, there is,” he said, clearing his throat in an attempt to gather his thoughts. “You see, Nora, I may not have as much time as I’ve previously indicated. You need to do all you can to get that rare edition into my hands by this Christmas. No, wait, correction. By this Christmas Eve. The book is not called, after all, Twas the Night after Christmas . It’s before . And it would make not only the most wonderful Christmas present for this old man, it would also be the ultimate birthday present.”
    â€œBirthday?”
    â€œYes. I wasn’t quite five years old yet when I found the book, but may as well have been. I was born on Christmas Day, so many cold winter nights ago,” he said, “and I wish to celebrate what could possibly be my last one by reliving the most special moment of my childhood.”
    â€œYou like to pile on the pressure, don’t you?” she said. “And the guilt.”
    â€œI understand you were once a lawyer,” Thomas Van Diver said, straightening his bow tie for effect, heightening the drama escalating between them. “That means