I’m back in my body the following morning after a long, relaxing steam shower in Beckett’s apartment. Thankfully it’s Saturday and I’m off today. I really need it. Though I have a feeling I’ll be working for Beckett.

I head down the stairs and hear a lot of truck motors outside. Usually it’s pretty quiet in this neighborhood on a weekend, so I’m wondering what’s going on. I open the door and see about a half dozen trucks belonging to contractors pulling up in front. I recognize one as a regular customer as he hops out of his truck and greets me. “Morning, A.J.”

“Hi, Ray. What’s going on?”

The tall, lanky contractor points at the building. “We’re here to finish the apartment.”

“The one above the store?”

“This is the place we read about in the paper, right? The one that sells the British stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“So we’re here to finish the remodeling job.”

“Who hired you?”

“Nobody hired us. A bunch of us read the story about the poor guy who got scammed and wanted to help out. It’s Christmas, A.J. What better thing for a bunch of contractors to do than give someone a place to live.”

I look at the line of trucks now parked in front. A drywall guy, a painter, an electrician, an appliance store, a plumber. “You got all these people together on a Saturday to do this?”

“Yeah. Hey, you know the old Italian saying, do well, then do good. We’re all doing very well, so we’re here to do good. So, can you let us in?”

“Sure.”

“I read that the architect left the plans. You know where they are?”

“Yeah, they’re sitting on top of a table.” He motions for the rest of the contractors to follow him and I lead them all upstairs and into the apartment. “Well, have at it.”

“Shouldn’t be too tough with all of us working together. We’ll have it done by Christmas, A.J. Oh, and we’re gonna finish up your bathroom too.”

“I can pay you for that part.”

“Sorry, your money’s no good and you deserve a reward for what you did. Now, if you don’t mind, could you go bring the scone guy over here so we can find out exactly what he wants and get started? Only got a few shopping days left.”

***

I RUN UP THE STAIRS, excitement propelling me all the way, then head down the hall and tap on his door. “Beckett, wake up!”

I hear him stirring. “Come on in.” He looks up at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s Christmas morning!”

“I think you need a calendar. It’s December twenty-first.”

“Not for you. Come see what Santa Claus brought you.”

He yawns and throws back the covers. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but this better be good.”

“Oh, it’s better than good.” I grab his hand and pull him out of bed, then down the hall and into the living room. I stop at the window and point across the street. “Check it out.”

He shrugs. “You woke me up to show me a bunch of trucks parked in front of my store? We’re not open for breakfast.”

“They’re not here for something to eat. They’re contractors, Beckett. They read your story in the paper and showed up to finish your apartment.”

“I don’t have any money to hire people—”

“You don’t get it, Beckett. They’re doing it for free. It’s your Christmas present from the neighborhood.”

***

BECKETT STANDS THERE watching the beehive of activity.

Stunned.

“I don’t believe this, A.J.”

“Neither do I, but I’m not complaining.”

The main contractor comes over and introduces himself to Beckett. “Sir, if I could go over the plans with you to make sure we get everything exactly the way you want it.”

“Certainly. I’m overwhelmed by your generosity.”

“No big deal. And it’s the season of giving. Oh, and had you planned on stainless steel kitchen appliances or something else?”

“Stainless. I purchased them but never received them.”

“Not a problem. Just go down to Hal’s appliance store today and pick out what you want.”

“I can’t afford—”

“All taken care of, my friend.” Ray pats him on the shoulder. “Anyway, walk with me and we can go over things.”

Beckett turns to me and smiles. “I guess I’ll catch up with you a little later.”

***

BY TWO O’CLOCK THE drywall guys are done (there are actual walls!), the electrician is hanging light fixtures, the plumber is hooking up a gas stove and a big guy is wheeling a gorgeous new stainless steel refrigerator into the kitchen. The amount of work these guys have done in such a short time is amazing, and I’m starting to believe they actually will be finished by Christmas.

Charlotte arrives and her face lights up. “I cannot believe this. A.J., it’s incredible. All because of you.”

“It’s because of the article in the paper.”

“Which you set up. And you’re the one who told the reporter about the apartment and... everything.”

“Well, I didn’t call these guys. They just showed up.”

She moves closer, locks eyes with me and takes my shoulders. “Because of you. Everything good that has happened to us since we got here is because of you. Everything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my brother. You know, A.J., you do have one big flaw I wish you’d correct.”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t accept a compliment or a thank you.”

I look down for a moment. “You’re welcome.”

“That’s better.”

I look up at her. “I  meant to ask you something. About the article and... everything I told the reporter. Was Beckett upset about his wife being mentioned?”

“Not at all. He realized what you were doing. He would never think you’d do anything to hurt him. He knows you only have our best interests at heart.”

“Good. I was worried about that.”

“Well, don’t.”

I note it’s gotten quiet all of a sudden as the power tools have stopped. I turn and see all the men staring at Charlotte. “I think you’d better get outta here or they’ll never get anything done.”

“Why? What did I do?”

“You know, Charlotte, you do have one big flaw I wish you’d correct.”

“What’s that?”

“You are absolutely oblivious as to how beautiful you are. Get a clue, girl.”

***

I HEAR FOOTSTEPS BEHIND me and see the newspaper reporter step into the apartment holding a camera. He smiles at me. “Nice to see you again.” He looks around at the work being done. “Well, looks like several guardian angels live in Staten Island.”

I study his face. “And I don’t suppose you had anything to do with this.”

“Who, me? What, you think a reporter desperate for a schmaltzy Christmas follow-up story would call a bunch of contractors to help a guy in need?”

“Silly me. Of course not.”

He cocks his head at Beckett. “So how did George Bailey react?”

“Who?”

“The Jimmy Stewart character. I told you that this had the potential to be another It’s a Wonderful Life story, remember? It’s got all the elements. A good guy who thinks he’s lost everything and the neighborhood shows up to help him at Christmas.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Anyway, Beckett is simply over the moon about this. He can’t believe how kind people are. Anyway, you can go talk to him.”

“Not before I talk to you. So, I guess he’ll be moving out of your place, huh?”

“Guess so.”

“How do you feel about that? Did I detect some chemistry the other day, or is he really just a guy you keep around to open jars?”