I burst out laughing. I tried to stop because it hurt my face but I couldn’t.
“He’s all yours,” said Mom.
She gave me another quick hug and told me she’d be in the front row. Then she went through the backstage door and into the theater. Mr. Putnam had me go back to the green room and this time I stayed until Missy Sprout came to get me. I took my place onstage. I said my lines. I embraced Violet and remembered to let her lead me off. I even sneaked a little wave to my mom as we disappeared into the wings.
17
“WHO WAS YOUR FAVORITE person in the play?”
Me and M om were driving home. It was dark, and snow was blowing around outside the windows. I was still thinking about how Mr. Howard had come backstage after the play and when he was done congratulating everybody he took me aside. He told me he was proud of me and that I had showed a lot of character, pun intended. I beamed. I couldn’t help it. Then he’d said we were going to have to talk about what had happened but not until after vacation. I still beamed. Only a little bit less. I fogged up the window with my breath and wrote my name in it.
“You were.”
“I was?”
“Of course you were.”
“What about Scrooge?”
“Didn’t care for him.”
“What about the ghosts?”
“Nope. No way. You were by far my favorite. It was really neat seeing you up there, Derek, and I’m so proud of you I could burst.”
I smiled, looking out the window at the passing neighborhood. Christmas lights blinked in the trees and around front doors and along fences. Light-up icicles dangled from gutters. Robot Santas waved from front yards. In one yard, the two deer I thought for sure were fake suddenly bolted away when the garage door opened and light splashed out into the driveway. They were beautiful, crossing the next- door neighbor’s yard in three big leaps and disappearing into the woods. My heart raced. I’d seen deer at the zoo before but this was way better. I was still thinking about them when Mom pulled into our driveway a few minutes later.
“Notice anything different?” asked Mom as she turned off the car.
“No, I—hey, you put lights up!”
They blinked and winked in the bushes next to the door and they flashed where they wound up the light post. The last time my dad was home for Christmas he’d gotten up on a ladder and run colored lights all along the gutters as well. That was a couple years ago though, and because Mom was afraid of heights we hadn’t had them up there since.
I stood in the driveway and stared at the gutters, trying to remember exactly how they had looked all lit up for Christmas but I couldn’t—at least not exactly. I pulled my coat tight and shivered. My mom was standing next to me and I could tell by the way her head was tilted that she was looking at the darkened gutters, too.
“Your lights look nice, Mom.”
She looked down at me and smiled and put her arm around my shoulders. We stood like that in the driveway in the cold and looked at them until Aunt Josie opened the door and called us crazy for being outside for so long.
“Oh my God, Derek, what happened to your eye?” Aunt Josie asked once she saw my face.
“Me and Budgie threw down.”
“Threw what down?”
“Nothing. We got in a fight. Y’know—threw down? Like they say on TV?”
“Oh, threw
“Meat for what?”
“Your eye.”
“Ew, no! Why would I want—how would I—no. No thanks.”
“I think it’s already done all the swelling it’s going to do,” Mom said. “Does it hurt when I do this?”
“
I jumped up from my seat and ran away a little, holding my hand over my eye for protection. Maybe it would be a good idea to get an eye patch. That way I’d have both hands free to defend myself.
“Sorry, sweetie!” Mom said. “I just wanted to feel if anything was broken. I
“Nothing’s broken! It was fine until you started messing with it.”
“How’s your tongue?”
“What happened to his tongue?”
“He bit it.”
“Now my mouth tastes like pennies,” I said. “Also look!”
I wiggled the loose tooth with my tongue.
“Oh my God!” said Aunt Josie, cringing. “When did all this happen?”
“During act one. It’s a baby tooth—see?”
I pulled my lip down and really wiggled it. Aunt Josie made a face and waved her hands like they were covered in spiders.
“Augh! Stop it!” she squealed. “Stopitstopitstopit!”
“What?”
“Loose teeth freak me out.”
“Really? Why?”
“I don’t know. They just give me the willies,” she said, shuddering. “So please—for me—could you stop? Or am I going to have to turn my eyelids inside out?”
I stopped,
I helped Mom set the table. I put the plates out. I poured the milk. I even remembered which side the fork went on. Aunt Josie had made potatoes au gratin and green beans to go with the roast. I normally didn’t like green beans but Aunt Josie had put crumbled-up bacon in them so they were okay. Sort of like the way broccoli was gross unless it was smothered in cheese. I wondered if the secret to cooking was just adding stuff you liked to stuff you didn’t like.
Aunt Josie got the roast out of the oven and sliced pieces of it onto a plate and brought the plate to the table. Mom brought over the beans and potatoes and we all sat down. Nobody moved for a minute. Nobody said anything either. A big quiet dropped over the table like a blanket. Dad’s chair had never seemed emptier.
“Have some wine with me, Jo?” Mom said.
She got up from the table and got a bottle from the rack. Then she dug through a drawer until she found a corkscrew and opened the bottle with it. She got two wine glasses from the cupboard, gave them a quick rinse, and brought them and the bottle back to the table.
I ate my dinner. Mom and Aunt Josie put food on their plates, too, but by the time I’d finished eating they’d barely started and I’d even had a second helping of potatoes. Nobody was really saying anything and the quiet was starting to drive me nuts.
“Do you think Santa will come this year?”
“Why wouldn’t he? You’ve been good, haven’t you?”
It felt like a trick question.
“I’ve been pretty good.”
