“No, Dad, I don’t think so.”
He walked into the kitchen and picked up the pad of paper next to the phone. “We’ll need to write that down. If we go with that thing on the mantle then we’re going to need green candles. No, red.” He jotted something down on the paper and went back into the dining room.
“This garland is a crumpled, flat mess,” Mark said.
I saw Dad scribbling on the pad again. “Let’s get the real kind, the kind that smells,” he said. “And let’s get enough to wrap it around the banister going upstairs. Emily will like that.”
“Write down some sort of centerpiece, too,” Mark said. “This pinecone thing has seen better days. And put down one of those long things that run right down the center of the table.” Mom and I listened as they dug through more boxes and pulled out what they could, commenting on usability, age of the product in hand, where it was purchased, and how they used to have one of those when they were a kid.
“All right, we’ve got to go to the store,” Dad said. “Do you girls need anything?”
We shook our heads.
“I’m getting eggnog,” he said, jotting on the list again. “I don’t care if it’s bad for you, I’m getting it anyway.”
Mom didn’t argue. She’d go back to watching his cholesterol after Christmas. I could feel that small level of excitement building again. It was going to be a good Christmas this year. I thought I heard something upstairs.
“Patricia!” It was Emily. She was screaming. I ran past Mom and bolted up the stairs into the guest bedroom. Emily was lying still, the covers pulled up under her chin. I sat on the bed next to her.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded and held my hand. “Were you afraid when you woke up?”
She nodded. I helped her sit up and hugged her to me.
“It’s okay” She wrapped her arms around me and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so needed. “Do you know what today is?”
She shook her head.
“It’s Christmas Eve. So do you know what tomorrow is?”
“Christmas,” she whispered.
“That’s right. And we’re downstairs right now making all sorts of pies and candy, and I’ve invited Greta and Hal to come spend the day with us tomorrow.”
She nodded but was quiet. “Do they have Christmas in heaven?”
“Every day is Christmas in heaven,” I said.
“I want my mom to be here for Christmas.” I pulled her close and rested my chin on top of her head.
“I know,” I said. I kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand. For the rest of her life she would miss her mother, but the holidays would always be especially heartbreaking.
She looked around the room. “Where’s Girl?” That was all she wanted to talk about her mother for now.
I jumped with a start. “Oh, I forgot her outside. She’s probably got icicles hanging from her whiskers!”
Emily ran from the room and down the stairs. She had to save Girl. She threw open the back door and there was Girl, wagging her tail as if she didn’t know it was thirty degrees. Emily grabbed her collar and pulled her inside, wrapping her arms around Girl’s neck to help warm her.
“She needs hot chocolate,” Emily said.
I handed her a bowl of dog food. “Let’s start with this and see how she is after that.” Emily picked up a handful of dog food and opened her palm for Girl. Emily wiped the crumbs from her hand onto her pajamas and followed me into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Emily,” Mom said. “And merry Christmas!”
Emily sat at the island and watched Mom work. “Are we going to see the activity today?” Mom and I looked at her.
“What activity?” I asked, washing my hands.
“With all the animals and Mary and Joseph.”
Mom threw her head back and laughed. “Oh! The living activity,” she said.
“We’ll do whatever you want,” I said. I scrambled an egg and put a piece of toast on a plate for Emily. I poured her a glass of milk and set it in front of her. I was getting good at this.
“Can we go to see Mia today and can I buy her a gift for Christmas?”
“Yes, we can go see her.”
“Can Mark go, too?” I knew Mom was waiting to hear my answer but she acted as if she were as busy as could be finishing the pie.
“We can ask. I’m sure he’ll want to.”
When Mark and Dad returned from shopping, a huge topiary entered the kitchen before Dad. “We’re going to set this on the floor next to the mantle,” he said. “What’d that lady call this thing, Mark?”