Page 11 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
When I got to the school, Annabel came running to my car, her pink-and-purple backpack bouncing up and down on her back, and she was carrying her coat instead of wearing it. Typical Annabel. She was basically allergic to coats and impervious to cold.
See, Natalie? If the furnace goes out, we’ll be fine. The kid won’t even notice.
“Hey, Anna-banana,” I said as she climbed into the back. “How was your day?”
“Good.” She untangled her arms from her backpack straps and set it on the floor at her feet. “I made something.”
“Oh yeah? What did you make?”
With a triumphant smile, she produced a red and green paper chain from her backpack and held it up. “It’s a Christmas countdown. We take a loop off the chain every day until Christmas.”
“How fun is that? I love it.”
“I ripped it a little bit, but my teacher helped me fix it.”
“It looks like it’s in great shape.” I pulled out of the pickup line and turned onto the street. “Where should we hang it?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Good idea.”
“Auntie Natalie, when are we getting a tree?”
“That’s a great question.” The cost dinged in my mind like an old-school cash register. “Maybe this weekend. We’ll ask your mom when she gets home.”
She fingered the paper chain in her lap. “Okay. Can I help decorate?”
“Of course.”
“But you get the top. I’m too small.”
“Deal. I’ll hang the ones you can’t reach.”
“Mommy, too.”
I nodded. “Yep. Mommy too.”
“Auntie Natalie?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you be home for Christmas?”
“Well… that depends on work.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Oh.”
I glanced at her and my heart nearly broke. Her lower lip protruded, and she fidgeted with her paper chain. She’d never asked about me being home for Christmas before. Until the last year or so, she’d probably been too young to really notice.
“Are you sad about that?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Why?”
She took a deep breath. “Because Mommy makes pancakes, and we have sprinkles on them.”
“That sounds yummy. And I’m sure Mommy will still make you special Christmas pancakes, even if I have to work.”
