“I promise they aren’t that bad.” She takes one and heads over to the tree, where her son, Alex, is waiting patiently.
Andrew leans in and whispers, “Who knew pine trees had so many uses. Antibiotic ointment and now flour.”
“Don’t forget decor.” I point to the Christmas tree across the room.
We join Cara and Rocky Horror—who tell me they’re drinking “forager tea.”
“Basically, it tastes like dirt,” Rocky Horror says, but still takes a sip. We watch as the kids get handed gifts one by one. Even ours receive gifts. We asked Hannah if there was a place in town where we and a few of the Nomads could go to find gifts, but she assured us they had enough for everyone. And it looks like they do.
Across the room, I catch Nadine and Denton talking with Cal and a couple of other Nomads, including Kevin. Nadine locks eyes with me, gives me a curt nod, then returns her gaze to the other side of the room. The Lady Marine hasn’t changed.
“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” Andrew says. When I turn to him, he has his good hand behind his back while his injuredhand is still held close to his chest despite not using the sling anymore. My smile grows and I do as he says. He places something light in the palm of my right hand. “Okay, open them.”
It’s a small, faded green ticket—like one from a raffle—with the words “KEEP THIS COUPON” flaking away.
“Are they doing a raffle?” I ask. The last time I saw a ticket like this, it was at my neighborhood’s community development fundraiser.
“It’s a movie ticket,” he says. “Good for one movie that I will retell for you—to the best of my knowledge.”
My smile manages to grow a bit more. “What if it’s one you hate or don’t know?”
He looks like he’s already regretting this. “Any. Movie. Of your choice.”
“An—”
“Within reason, Jamie, don’t make me tell youCitizen Kaneor some shit. It’s so boring. Rosebud is the sled and capitalism is evil. There, that one was a freebie.”
I laugh and close my hand around the ticket. “I’ll make sure I choose a good one. Where did you get this?”
“Palmetto Park and Splash World Resort. There were a few littering the ground and I picked them up... you know.” During Daphne’s funeral procession. Yes, I guess that would make sense.
“Them? There’s more?”
He shrugs. “Who knows!”
I put the ticket in my back pocket—already thinking about the movies I can ask Andrew to recite for me—and tell him to closehiseyes. He does and holds out his good hand. I take the neon woodturtle I stole from the shop in Florida and put it in his hand.
He opens it and his smile drops. For a second I feel bad, like I made a mistake by choosing a gift from the place we had to flee.
“I thought it might be nice,” I say, trying to salvage the moment. “I mean, for you to have something to remind you...” Remind him of the place we had to run away from. Because of me. “A souvenir. Sorry.”
But he does smile, and when he looks at me, there are tears in his eyes. He laughs and tries to wipe them away. “No, don’t be.” He hugs me tight, then kisses my neck, then my cheek, then my lips. “It is perfect. Tacky and wonderful and perfect. Thank you.”
After gifts, everyone pretty much splits off into groups to talk and have breakfast. I see the Kid sitting alone with Bobo and his new toy, a Pokémon plush he doesn’t seem as interested in as his own hippo. I head over to him and sit down against the wall.
“You feeling better today, Kid?” He just nods, so I press him a little more. “Pretty cool that Santa still knows where you are, right?”
Again, just a nod. Maybe he knows Santa isn’t real. Maybe when Santa didn’t show up last year after society collapsed, all the orphaned kids in the world realized it was their parents who bought them gifts on Christmas. I feel Andrew’s eyes on me from across the room, probably waiting for me to give him the look that we often share. The one that saystag, you’re inso I can go to the sideline, and he can take over trying to make the Kid feel better. But now, knowing that we’re going to have to eventually ghost everyone, I stay put.
I grab the Pokémon from the floor. It’s not one I recognize, so it must be a newer one.
“What’s this guy’s name?” The Kid just shrugs. “Should we give him a name, then?” Another shrug. “I think he looks like an Edward.”
That makes the Kid smile.
“No? How about Engelbert Humperdinck?”
The Kid finally laughs.
