“I’ll be ok. I’ve always gone alone.”
He was back to “vengeful,” or maybe just “angry.” “I don’t like that.”
“And I don’t want you to worry about doing everything for the holiday on your own,” I continued. “I’ve made some arrangements for you.”
“Such as?”
“I’ve asked Octavia to come over and help out,” I said, but then dissolved in laughter as his fingers moved from cradling my chin to tickling my neck. I wouldn’t have done that to him but anyway, she had other plans. Somehow, she’d managed to find a cruise that allowed her to bring her monitor lizard, Grosvenor. She was worried about how she would pack his frozen mice and had a lot to share on that topic. Rashelle had put a bucket next to her desk since Octavia didn’t lower her voice as she endlessly discussed the smell as those thawed and their consistency at room temperature.
The holiday kept approaching fast. I had gone a little crazy buying gifts for Lyra, both from me and from my parents (my mom wanted to pay me back but I didn’t plan to give her the total of what she actually would have owed, because she would have been horrified). It was hard not to get the books that I knew Ly would love, the science kits that she’d have so much fun with, the billion-piece puzzles that we could spread out on the dining room table, and the clothes that she’d look adorable in. So yes, I had overspent.
I’d had a harder time shopping for Silas but I’d finally thought of something I hoped he would enjoy and that he also needed. I’d already let Lyra know that I had made a stocking for him but that Santa wouldn’t fill it, since her brother was (more than) fully grown. I explained that we could do it ourselves and she had gotten really excited. So the day before I left, the two of us hid in my room to put in the card she’d drawn and the small bust of him that she’d made in art class, which was papier-mâché and very delicate. We placed that on the top, after I’d shoved in thesafety razors I’d bought since his current shaving method with the shiny, straight blade scared me so much. I’d also put in the fastpitch softball rulebook.
“He’ll like those presents,” Lyra told me, and I could see that she thought they were terrible but she was trying to be nice.
“Thanks,” I said. “I know he’ll love your sculpture.”
She nodded, also sure, but then she frowned. “I don’t know about my dad. My real one who’s coming.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know if I want him to.”
“Oh,” I said slowly. “Well, you don’t have to see him. Nobody’s going to make you.”
“I also want to,” she said. “A little.”
“It’s confusing,” I commiserated, and she nodded again. “He isn’t supposed to come until Christmas Day. I think.” We still weren’t exactly sure. “You have a little while longer to decide.”
“Will Silas be mad if I don’t want him to come? Because it’s his dad, too.”
“That’s very considerate of you,” I said, swelling with pride. “That’s so nice that you’re thinking of your brother. But no, he’ll be ok with whatever you choose. He only wants you to feel comfortable with it.”
She seemed unconvinced. “I wish you were going to be here. But you need to go see Belle and Harry. They’d be sad without you.”
I managed, barely, to keep myself from bursting into tears. “I wish I could be here, too. I wish I could be in two places at once.”
“That can’t happen because of science,” she explained. “When you come home, can we play catch in the basement?” Silas had made great strides in cleaning it out, although it was dark and a little damp, and I was still very wary of spiders.
“We’ll definitely play.” A little awkwardly, I patted her shoulder and I left my hand there. She didn’t seem to mind it.
It was very, very hard to leave the next day. Very. “Cammie, don’t cry,” Silas warned. “You won’t be able to see well to drive.”
“I’m not crying,” I answered, but due to my tears and the thickness in my throat, he might not have understood. I got myself together to hug Lyra and to whisper with her about presents and stockings, and then she ran inside because saying goodbye made her sad.
Me too. “Will you call me?” I asked. Texting from his stupid flip phone was a nightmare. “Call me a lot. Let me know when your dad gets here. Let me know if it’s snowing. There’s a thirty-percent chance for tomorrow and Lyra would love a white Christmas.”
“Flurries,” he said. “I’m glad you won’t be driving in that.”
“Call me when the pie goes into the oven,” I urged. “Call me when she opens her stocking. Call me…just call.”
“I will,” he promised. “I will. There are a few extra things in your trunk from me and Ly for your parents and for you, too.”
“For me?”
“Yeah, you. You’re the only other person out here freezing in the driveway.”
“You’re the one who won’t wear a coat,” I reminded him, but he never really seemed to need that extra layer. I was also the only one whose teeth were chattering. “You don’t have to tell me to drive carefully. I will.” I thought that I shouldn’t prolong this, so I started to leave.
