“What would you like for Christmas?” I asked.
“We can’t afford what I really want.”
“Which is?”
“A Hermes Birkin purse.”
“Maybe we can. What are we talking about price-wise?”
“$12,000.”
“$12,000 for a purse! You’re kidding me.”
“We entertain high-income clients. I’m one of the few women without a high-end purse.”
“And somehow you still are able to get donations.”
“You asked me what I wanted, and I told you.”
“A $1000 bag wouldn’t do it?”
She gave me an are-you-kidding-me-look.
“I could get you a knockoff for a couple of hundred dollars. Nobody would know the difference.”
“I would know.”
“It’s got to be that bag?”
“No. There are other high-end designer bags I would like, but this is the one I really want.”
“Like, what other purses?”
“Like Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Celine.”
***
“Open your present,” I said, Christmas music playing, the tree lit, the girls kneeling in front of the tree, their eager faces waiting for their mother to open her gift.
Claire picked up the bag overflowing with red tissue paper, sat on the edge of the wingback chair, and balanced it on her lap. She removed the tissue paper. A smile.
“Is this what I think it is?” she said, wide-eyed, holding up the Louis Vuitton purse.
“Is not Hermes, but I thought Louis Vuitton would be acceptable.”
“Oh my God,” said Annie, and Michaela ran her hand over the purse.
“I wasn’t playing poker Tuesday nights. I picked up a class at Norwalk Community. Mypay for the semester,” I said, pointing to the bag.
She held it up. “It’s nice.”
The lukewarm ‘it’s nice’ comparable to ‘it was interesting’ when asked, What did you think of the movie?
“You shouldn’t have …”
“It’s used. I couldn’t afford new, but I wanted to get you something you really wanted.”
She ran her fingers over the strap. “A little wear here.”
“We can get something to fi that.”
***
“I wish we would take the train. Traffic into the city on a Friday night is going to be ridiculous,” I said.
“We’re leaving early. I think we’ll be okay,” said Claire.
“You look incredible.”
A thin smile as she checked herself in the mirror, turning left, then right. Killer black dress that drew the eyes to every curve of her stunning figure, pearl necklace, and designer shoes.
“Let me help you with your coat,” I said as I placed it on her. She flipped her hair over the collar and picked up her purse.
“Wait. That’s not the purse I gave you for Christmas.”
“This is our biggest event of the year. All our top donors will be there, and I have to look good.”
“That’s why I got the purse for you.”
“This is a Hermes Birkin.”
“How did you get a $12,000 purse?”
“It’s a knockoff. Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”
“What’s wrong with the one I gave you?” I asked, wondering what had changed aboutgetting a knockoff.
“Nothing. This one will give the appearance I’m one of them, that’s all.”
“But we’re not.”
“Let’s go,” she said with a look that said maybe you’re not, but…