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'Tis the Season Page 7
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And so the evening began. The girls ate cookies at Ma Grand-mère (which, Olivia thought, would be the perfect store for her parents to buy, what with the professional kitchen and all), sampled candy at Time and Again, and more candy at the hardware store, then drank hot chocolate at Frank’s Beans. At each store they consulted their lists (Nikki ran through her mental list) and looked for specials.
“I want to get some Playmobil stuff for Jack,” said Olivia, “but only if I can find it on sale.”
“I want to get some toys for Mae,” said Nikki, “but, unfortunately, I can only afford two of the things on her list for Santa.” (At this, Olivia and Flora exchanged smiles.) “Twister and the crayons. And maybe I could get some plastic barrettes or scrunchies for her hair. What I’ve been thinking is that we all know what’s on her list, but she hasn’t seen it since she gave it to Mom, so maybe she’s forgotten exactly what she asked for.” Nikki looked dubious. “I have this funny feeling, though, that she memorized the list.”
The girls came to the window of Bubble Gum and Flora said, “Oh, look! Pens. I want to find a special one for my aunt. She’s a writer, you know, so that should be a good gift for her. Hey, and they’re on sale.”
“And there’s a tiara that only costs two dollars and thirty-nine cents,” said Nikki. “Mae would like a tiara. I could get that instead of barrettes. She could play princess.”
The girls went inside, helped themselves to a tray of gingerbread men, and then Flora chose a beaded pen for her aunt and Nikki chose a silvery tiara studded with pink plastic jewels.
“There are Ruby and Lacey!” exclaimed Olivia as they left Bubble Gum. And sure enough, just several feet away was a group of velvet-clad carolers singing, “Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.”
Olivia, Nikki, and Flora listened until the song was finished, then waved to Ruby and Lacey, who removed their hands from their fake-fur muffs long enough to wave back.
“I guess it’s time to go to Needle and Thread again,” said Olivia, who had dutifully checked in with Gigi every half hour.
“Tobias is going to pick me up there soon,” said Nikki.
The girls paused for one more look at the glittering Christmas tree in the square, grabbed one last chocolate from the bowl at Time and Again (“I’m beginning to feel a little sick,” admitted Flora), and then returned to Needle and Thread, where Tobias was waiting.
As soon as he and Nikki left, Flora said to Olivia, “The surprise for the Shermans is going to be perfect, isn’t it?”
“Perfect!” agreed Olivia. “I keep wanting to tell Nikki not to worry so much about Mae’s gifts, but that would ruin everything. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Olivia and Flora sprawled, groaning, on the couches at the front of the store. Presently, they were joined by Ruby, who said that the carolers had finished and were going home.
“Is there any food left?” Ruby wanted to know as she struggled with the fastenings on her boots.
Flora clutched her stomach. “How can you think of food?”
“I haven’t eaten anything,” said Ruby. “I’ve been singing all this time. I’m starving.”
Ruby sat down with a plate of the little sandwiches that Min and Gigi had been serving (Olivia and Flora had to turn their heads away), and the girls watched as the crowds thinned and, one by one, the stores on Main Street grew dark. Gigi and Min were saying good night to their last customer when Mrs. Grindle strode through the door and dropped onto the couch next to Ruby.
“Oh, my aching feet,” she said.
Ruby edged away from her and slid onto the other couch. Mrs. Grindle didn’t seem to notice.
“Hi, Gina,” called Min. “Long day?”
“I never,” Mrs. Grindle replied.
Gigi ushered the customer out the door, turned the lock, set the CLOSED sign in the window, and sat beside Mrs. Grindle. Min joined them.
“I’ve come to a decision,” said Mrs. Grindle briskly. She crossed her feet, then her arms.
“I bet her fingers and toes are crossed, too,” Olivia whispered to Flora.
“I have decided,” said Mrs. Grindle, “that after the holidays are over, I’m going to put Stuff ’n’ Nonsense up for sale.”
Olivia turned a shocked face to her friends. She didn’t like the Grinch, couldn’t stand her, but Stuff ’n’ Nonsense had been around since long before Olivia was born. It was part of Main Street, part of town, part of her life. And Olivia didn’t want one more thing in her life to change.
“Oh, no,” she whispered.
On December 20th, five days before Christmas, Ruby Northrop stood in front of the mirror in her room and gave herself a concert. “On the fifth day of Christmas,” she sang, even though she had a feeling that the fifth day of Christmas wasn’t December 20th, “my true love sent to me, five golden rings, four collie birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree!” What an odd song, she thought. Why is this true love giving away so many birds, and what’s a collie bird anyway? Ruby checked the book of Christmas carols she had borrowed from Ms. Angelo. “Oh, calling bird,” she said aloud. Then, “Well, what’s a calling bird?”
“Ruby! Come downstairs for breakfast, please!” said Min.
“Okay.” Ruby looked at the calendar on her wall. It was very strange, she thought, how time seemed to slow down before an important holiday, and the closer the holiday came, the slower time passed. How was she ever going to make it through today and tomorrow (the last two days of school before vacation), then an entire weekend, and then all of Monday, which was Christmas Eve, the longest day of the year? Well, they will be busy days, she reminded herself. She had a test at school on Friday (kind of mean of Mr. Lundy), but then a class party (nice of Mr. Lundy). She had her Christmas surprise to work on over the weekend, a rehearsal of the Children’s Chorus for their performance on Monday, and she still had presents to wrap. Christmas Eve would be a very busy day, and then —
“Ruby! Lordy Maudy! What are you doing?” called Min. “Please come down to breakfast now!”
Ruby was well acquainted with this particular tone of voice and flew out of her bedroom and down to the kitchen. “Sorry, Min,” she said as she slid into her chair.
“My goodness,” said Min. “Now, girls, I want to remind you that your aunt Allie will be arriving at about four this afternoon. Ruby, you have a chorus rehearsal after school, is that right?”
“Yes,” said Ruby.
“And, Flora, you’ll be at the store, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then I think I’ll ask Allie to come directly to Needle and Thread when she gets to town. The bus is due in at —”
“The bus?” said Ruby. “Isn’t she driving? Doesn’t she have a car?”
Min shook her head. “She lives in New York City. She doesn’t need a car.”
Ruby’s mind turned to what she knew about her aunt. It wasn’t much. Aunt Allie was her mother’s younger sister. For some reason, her mother and Allie hadn’t gotten along well. Ruby didn’t think anything in particular had happened. The sisters just hadn’t been close. Ruby couldn’t imagine not being close to Flora, though. Flora was one of her very best friends.
Ruby’s mother and Allie had grown up and gone to college (different colleges). After college, Ruby’s mother had met Ruby’s father and they had gotten married and moved to a town that was bigger than Camden Falls but nowhere near as big as New York City, which was where Allie had moved. Ruby thought she remembered her mother once saying that New York was one of Allie’s phases, that she would live there for a while, then move somewhere smaller and closer by. Instead, Allie had had her first book published, a collection of short stories. “For grown-ups,” Ruby’s mother had said. And Allie had stayed in New York. Then she had written another book, and then a third and a fourth.
“Is Aunt Allie famous?” Ruby had once asked her mother.
“In some circles,” was the reply, which Ruby had
n’t understood at all. Circles?
The years had gone by, and Ruby’s mother and Allie rarely saw each other. Ruby had met her aunt only a few times. Min, on the other hand, had remained closely in touch with Allie. Allie almost never visited Camden Falls, but for as long as Ruby could remember, Min had gone to New York City to spend Christmas with Allie.
And now everything had changed. Ruby’s parents were gone, Min had decided not to go to New York on this first Christmas with Ruby and Flora, and Allie had decided to visit Camden Falls after so many years away.
Ruby realized she felt a bit afraid of her aunt.
“I hope Aunt Allie will like her room,” she said now.
Min, Flora, and Ruby had worked hard to make one of the guest rooms on the third floor both cozy and festive. They had cleaned it (it hadn’t been used in a very long time), put flannel sheets on the bed, made sure the little alarm clock was running, and had placed some books they thought she might like on the bedside table. Flora had even painted two pictures that were now hanging on the wall, and then Ruby had gotten the idea to decorate the room for Christmas. “We could put a little tree in the corner and string lights around the window,” she’d said. And that was exactly what they’d done.
“I’m sure she’ll love the room,” said Min.
“Do you think she’ll mind that she won’t be staying in her own old bedroom?” asked Ruby. “Do you think she’ll mind that her old room is my room now?”
“Not at all,” Min said. “Don’t give that a second thought.”
Ruby ate her breakfast quickly so she would have time for a ritual she had begun as soon as she and Min and Flora had decorated the house and put up their Christmas tree. She stood in the doorway to the living room and looked at the pine boughs over the picture frames, each one hung with tiny wooden angels, and the elaborate scene Min had created on the mantelpiece. She had placed pine boughs there, too, and nestled among the needles were antique tree ornaments (“Some of these belonged to my mother,” Min had said), and a choir of brass angels, and a trio of gnomes from Norway, as well as holly berries and gold-painted pinecones and more wooden angels. Ruby surveyed the other decorations as well — a music box from a trip Min had taken to Germany, a large jointed wooden soldier, the kissing ball with its sprig of plastic mistletoe, and Min’s impressive collection of Nativity scenes.
Ruby took in the entire room, then she closed her eyes. Her hand found the light switch, and she flicked it up. When she opened her eyes, the tree was lit. This wasn’t quite as astonishing in the morning as it was in the evening with only darkness outside the windows, but Ruby couldn’t help herself. She liked to do this twice a day. And she liked to examine the ornaments on the tree. There were Min’s — new to Ruby — and there were the ones Flora and Ruby had brought from their old house. Ruby fingered the Santa on skis, the cat with the halo over his head (she thought of him as Halo Kitty), the miniature Nativity, the glass peacock.
“Is this the first time you’ve decorated the house since Aunt Allie moved to New York?” Ruby had asked Min.
“Oh, no,” Min replied. “I decorate every year. I don’t think I could not decorate. I get a tree and everything. Of course, when I went to the city, I would have to leave it all behind for a few days. Still, it would be waiting for me when I came home. I usually leave everything up until the week after New Year’s. Then away it goes until the next December.”
Ruby eyed the floor beneath the tree. Empty — except for a red-and-green tree skirt. Min had insisted on waiting until Aunt Allie arrived before putting out any presents. Ruby was getting impatient. She knew a few good secrets. One of the closets downstairs was now absolutely stuffed with gifts — with packages that had arrived in the mail or that friends had dropped off, and with presents Min had wrapped, as well as some Flora and Ruby had wrapped. At Ruby’s old home, when her parents had been alive, presents had been placed under the tree as soon as the bows were tied, or as soon as the mail carrier delivered them. Ruby had to admit that the bursting closet was fairly exciting, though.
“Ruby!” Flora called. “We have to leave now or we’re going to be late.”
So off Ruby went for her second-to-last day of school before vacation. When she returned home at the end of the afternoon, her aunt Allie was there.
Ruby had had a long day. The chorus rehearsal lasted for two hours. But Ruby’s spirits were high, and when she ran through the front door of the Row House at 5:15, she was singing loudly, “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt! His name is my name, too!” (Ruby was a little tired of Christmas songs.) “Whenever we go out, the people always —”
Ruby slammed the door shut behind her and came to a halt in the front hallway. Sitting in the living room were Min, Flora, and a woman Ruby recognized more from photos than from memory. She was tall, like Ruby’s mother had been, and dark-haired and dark-eyed, also like Ruby’s mother, but she was dressed in clothes that Ruby had never, ever seen her mother wear — tight faded jeans and a loose filmy top studded with things that looked like tiny mirrors, black lace-up boots, and lots of large jingly jewelry.
“My goodness,” the woman said to Ruby. “That was quite an entrance.”
Ordinarily, Ruby liked to make an entrance, but what her aunt Allie had just said didn’t sound like a compliment, so Ruby lowered her backpack to the floor, hung up her coat, and approached the living room quietly. She held out her hand. “Hi, Aunt Allie,” she said. “I’m Ruby.”
“So I gather.” Ruby’s aunt stood up and shook her hand.
A brief silence followed. Finally, Ruby said, “We’re very glad you could change your plans and join us for the holidays.”
“Why, thank you,” replied Aunt Allie.
“Well,” said Min, standing up, “I’ll go start dinner.”
“I’ll help you,” said Aunt Allie.
“Come upstairs with me, Ruby,” said Flora.
Flora fairly sprinted up the stairs to her room, and Ruby followed her.
“She’s awful!” exclaimed Flora, as soon as she had closed her door. “Just awful! She has no sense of humor, I don’t think she likes kids, and she seems kind of complainy.”
“Complainy? How?” asked Ruby.
Flora made a face. “The bus was too hot, and Needle and Thread was too crowded, and she needs to work — she’s on a deadline — but if she can’t access the Internet here, then she’s in big trouble.”
“What makes you think she doesn’t like kids?” asked Ruby nervously.
“She’s hardly talked to me, and this afternoon I gave her a welcome card I made and she thanked me for it, but she studied it like she was looking for mistakes or something. Also, I overheard her ask Min if we have savings accounts so we can deposit her Christmas presents in them.”
“Money to put into our savings accounts?” wailed Ruby. That was the most boring present imaginable. But maybe that would just be Aunt Allie’s main present; maybe there would be others as well.
“And I bought her a pen for Christmas,” continued Flora, “a nice pen, which I guess she won’t use if she’s so concerned about her computer. I have to say, it’s a little hard to be in the holiday spirit right now.”
Ruby and Flora turned up at the dinner table that night in very bad moods. They barely spoke, but Aunt Allie didn’t seem to notice. She carried on a cheerful conversation with Min. After supper, Ruby finally did ask her a question. “How do you like our decorations?” she said as Aunt Allie sat down on the living room couch and turned on her laptop.
“What? Oh, the decorations are just fine. Very — oh, no, not this problem again. Where did I leave my power cord?”
At that moment, Ruby, knowing she shouldn’t do it but unable to stop herself, flicked a switch that turned off all the lamps in the room and then flicked the switch that turned on the Christmas tree lights.
“Ruby!” cried Aunt Allie. “I can’t see!”
“But the tree —” said Ruby.
Aunt Allie turned the lamps on again,
and Ruby huffed upstairs to her bedroom.
“Just four more days! Just four more days!” Mae chanted as she and Nikki stepped off the school bus the next morning.
“Four more days until what?” Olivia teased. She and Flora and Ruby had been waiting in front of Camden Falls Elementary for the Shermans.
“Christmas, silly,” said Mae. “And only three more nights until Santa Claus comes.”
Nikki’s backpack was heavier than usual, for this morning it held, in addition to her books, a handmade card for Mr. Donaldson and one for each of her classmates, cards that would be distributed that afternoon at their last-day-before-vacation party. Nikki was bursting with enthusiasm. The last day before vacation, a party, a special assembly, plans with Flora and Ruby and Olivia after school, Christmas in just four days — and no dad to spoil any of it.
Mr. Donaldson’s party was held after lunch. When Nikki and her classmates returned to their room, they found that their teacher had cleared his desk of books and papers and pens and had spread a green paper tablecloth over it. The desk now held a bowl filled with red punch, a plate of cookies, a plate of cupcakes, a tower of plastic cups, and a stack of napkins. For half an hour, Nikki and her classmates walked around their room holding cookies over napkins, exchanging cards, chattering about their plans for vacation, and watching the snow that had started to fall.
When the food was gone and the chattering had died down, Mr. Donaldson looked at his watch and said, “Time for the assembly. Please line up at the door.”
Nikki rushed to stand with Olivia and Flora. “Is Ruby excited?” she asked Flora.
“Yes. Even though our aunt couldn’t care less about the play. Ruby tried to tell her about it last night, but I don’t think Aunt Allie was listening at all.”
The assembly, which was for the entire school, was a rehearsal of the play that was to be performed during the 350th birthday celebration, the one in which Ruby had the lead role, that of Alice Kendall, a seventeenth-century woman accused of being a witch.