Page 55 of A Cozy Christmas Blizzard
“Why don’t we all play a game?” she suggested.
Zara raised her head sleepily from the sofa edge. “Can we play Old Maid?” she asked, yawning.
“I want to play Candyland,” Zoe mumbled.
“Why don’t we play both?” K.O. said, and they did. In fact, they played for two hours straight, watched television and then drank hot chocolate.
“Shall we take a bath now?” K.O. asked, hoping that would tire the girls out enough to want to go to bed. She didn’t know where they got their stamina, but her own was fading rapidly.
The twins were eager to do something altogether different and instantly raced out of the room.
Wynn looked like he could use a break—and he hadn’t even seen them at their most challenging. All in all, the girls were exhibiting good behavior, or what passed for good in the regime of the Free Child.
“I’ll run the bath water,” K.O. told Wynn as he gathered up the cards and game pieces. Had she been on her own, K.O. would have insisted the twins pick up after themselves.
While the girls were occupied in their bedroom, she put on a Christmas CD she particularly liked and started the bath. When she glanced into the living room, she saw Wynn collapsed on the sofa, legs stretched out.
“It hasn’t been so bad,” he said, as though that was proof his theories were working well. “As soon as the twins are down, we can talk,” he murmured, “about us...”
K.O. wasn’t ready for that, feeling he should spend more time with the girls. She felt honor-bound to remind Wynn of what he’d written in his book. “Didn’t you say that children know when they need sleep and we as adults should trust them to set their own schedules?”
He seemed about to argue with her, but then abruptly sat up and pointed across the room. “What’s that?”
A naked dog strolled into the living room. Rather, a hairless dog.
“Zero? Zorro?” K.O. asked. “Oh, my goodness!” She dashed into the bathroom to discover Zara sitting on the floor with Wynn’s electric shaver. A pile of brown-and-black dog hair littered the area.
“What happened?” Wynn cried, hard on her heels. His mouth fell open when he saw the girls intent on their task. They’d gone through his toiletries, which were spread across the countertop next to the sink. K.O. realized that the hum of the shaver had been concealed by the melodious strains of “Silent Night.” “What are you doing?”
“We’re giving haircuts,” Zara announced. “Do you want one?”
Sixteen
Two hours later, at ten-thirty, both Zoe and Zara were in their beds and asleep. This was no small accomplishment. After half a dozen stories, the girls were finally down for the night. K.O. tiptoed out of the room and as quietly as possible closed the door. Wynn was just ahead of her and looked as exhausted as she felt.
Zero regarded K.O. forlornly from the hallway. The poor dog had been almost completely shaved. He stared up at her, hairless and shivering. Zorro still had half his hair. The Yorkshire terrier’s left side had been sheared before K.O. managed to snatch the razor out of her niece’s hand. Last winter Zelda had knit tiny dog sweaters, which K.O. found, and with Wynn’s help slipped over the two terriers. At least they’d be warm, although neither dog seemed especially grateful.
K.O. sank down on the sofa beside Wynn, with the dogs nestled at their feet. Breathing out a long, deep sigh, she gazed up at the ceiling. Wynn was curiously quiet.
“I feel like going to bed myself,” she murmured when she’d recovered enough energy to speak.
“What time are your sister and brother-in-law supposed to return?” Wynn asked with what seemed to require an extraordinary amount of effort.
“Zelda said they should be home by three.”
“That late?”
K.O. couldn’t keep the grin off her face. It was just as she’d hoped. She wouldn’t have to argue about the problem with his Free Child theories, since he’d been able to witness for himself the havoc they caused.
Straightening, K.O. suggested they listen to some more music.
“That won’t disturb them, will it?” he asked when she got up to put on another CD. Evidently he had no interest in anything that might wake the girls.
“I should hope not.” She found the Christmas CD she’d given to Zelda two years earlier, and inserted it in the player. It featured a number of pop artists. Smiling over at Wynn, she lowered the volume. John Denver’s voice reached softly into the room, singing “Joy to the World.”
Wynn turned off the floor lamp, so the only illumination came from the Christmas-tree lights. The mood was cheerful and yet relaxed.
For the first time in days they were alone. The incident with Wynn’s father and the demands of the twins were the last things on K.O.’s mind.
