Page 26 of The Art of Being Merry
Jace looks at Clementine. “We should get a tree this big. What do you think?”
“I think it wouldn’t even fit in the doorway. Our ceilings are way too low for a tree this tall.”
“Someday I’m going to have a tree like this and put all kinds of ornaments I make on it.”
Clementine musses his hair. “Sounds like a plan, Jacey. I would love to see what you’ll create.”
“I thought I heard familiar voices.” Mom appears in the doorway, an apron tied around her waist, her gray hair pulled in a ponytail.
“We needed to see the three trees at your house. How did you decorate the top of this one?” Again, Jace bends backward to view the top.
Mom chuckles. “A very tall ladder. Dax’s dad is very careful when he decorates the top. Do you know the star on the top is over fifty years old? It was Dax’s grandparents’ topper for their tree.”
“They don’t need it anymore?”
Mom gazes at Atlas. “Nope, so we’re the lucky ones who get to have it on our tree.”
“Mama, do we have a star for ours?”
“I’m, uh, not sure. We’ll have to check the boxes when we decorate.” A wistfulness infiltrates her voice. I can’t be certainwhy. Maybe it has something to do with their moving. I wonder how they split their stuff, who got what. It’s never been a consideration to want to know, but Clementine has a way of making me want to know everything.
“The Christmas Barn sells all kinds of decorations. I bet they’ll have a star if you need one. We can go there after we get your tree.”
“When are you getting your tree?” Mom asks.
“Tomorrow,” Atlas declares happily.
My heart twinges in my chest at how happy this makes him.
Yet, it’s Clementine’s shy smile that about does me in.
“Boys, we should get going. I’m sure the Nicholases have things to do, and we’ve got to get home for baths and books.”
“What about dinner?”
“I’ve got a box of mac and cheese with your names on it.”
“The blue box or the purple one?” Atlas inquires, analyzing his mother.
“I can’t remember. But you like them both, remember?”
“But I like the blue box better.”
“We’ll talk about it at home.”
“We’re having macaroni and cheese, too,” Mom reveals.
Atlas spins her way. “From the blue or purple box?”
“Oh, it’s not from a box. I made it from scratch.”
Jace steps up to Mom. “What does that mean?”
“It means it’s more delicious than any color box,” I acknowledge. “She bakes it in the oven with breadcrumbs, and it’s the most delicious combination of crust and cheesy goodness.” For full effect, I rub my abdomen.
“I only know it’s better than a box if I taste it.”
“At-las,” Clementine hisses, stepping up to him and speaking in his ear. Whatever she says to him makes his face flush red.
