“How was the doctor?” Langston asked.
“Much better company than the undertaker!” Grandpa replied. Not the first time I’d heard him use this joke, which meant it was probably the two hundredth time Lily had endured it.
“Does the undertaker have bad breath?” Boomer barged into the hallway and asked.
“Boomer!” Lily said. Now she was definitely confused. “What are you doing here?”
It was Langston who cut in. “Much to my surprise, your Romeo here has brought us a rather early Christmas gift.”
“Here,” I said, taking Lily’s hand. “Close your eyes. Let me show you.”
Lily’s grip was not like her grandfather’s. Before, our hands used to pulse electric together. Now it was more like static. Pleasant, but light.
She closed her eyes, though. And when we got into the living room and I told her to open them, she did.
“Meet Oscar,” I said. “He’s your present for the first day of Christmas.”
“It’s a pair in a partridge tree!” Boomer yelled out.
Lily took it in. She looked surprised. Or maybe the stillness of her reaction was further tiredness. Then something kicked in, and she smiled.
“You really didn’t have to…,” she began.
“I wanted to!” I said quickly. “I really, really wanted to!”
“But where’s the pair?” Grandpa asked. Then he saw the photograph. His eyes welled up. “Oh. I see. There we are.”
Lily saw it, too, and if her eyes welled up, they welled inward. I honestly had no idea what was going on in her head. I shot a look at Langston, who was studying her just as hard, without getting any ready answers.
“Happy first day of Christmas,” I said.
She shook her head. “The first day of Christmas is Christmas,” she whispered.
“Not this year,” I said. “Not for us.”
Langston said it was time to retrieve the ornaments. Boomer volunteered at the same time Grandpa made a move to get some of the boxes. This snapped Lily back to attention—she shuffled him over to the couch in the living room, and said he could oversee them this year. I could tell Grandpa didn’t like this, but that he also knew it would hurt Lily’s feelings if he put up too much of a fight. So he sat down. For her.
As soon as the boxes were brought in, I knew it was time for me to leave. This was a family tradition, and if I stayed and pretended I was family, I would feel every ounce of the pretending, in the same way that I could feel the weight of Lily pretending to be happy, pretending to want to do what we were encouraging her to do. She would do this for Langston and her grandpa and her parents whenever they got back. If I stayed, she would even do it for me. But I wanted her to want to do it for herself. I wanted her to feel all that Christmas wonder she felt last year at this time. But that was going to take more than a perfect tree. It might just take a miracle.
Twelve days.
We had twelve days.
I’d spent my whole life avoiding Christmas. But not this year. No, this year what I wanted most this season was for Lily to be happy again.
Saturday, December 13th
I’m mad at global warming for all the obvious reasons, but mostly I’m mad at it for ruining Christmas. This time of year is supposed to be about teeth-chattering, cold weather that necessitates coats, scarves, and mittens. Outside, there should be see-your-breath air that offers the promise of sidewalks covered in snow, while inside, families drink hot chocolate by a roaring fire, huddled close together with their pets to keep warm. There is no better precursor to Christmas than a quality goose-bump chill. It’s what I count on to usher in the good cheer, happy songs, excessive cookie baking, favorite-people togetherness, and the all-important presents of the season. The days before Christmas are not supposed to be like this one was, a balmy seventy degrees, with holiday shoppers wearing shorts and drinking iced peppermint lattes (yuck), and tank top–wearing Frisbee players nearly giving concussions to dog walkers in Tompkins Square Park with their carefree spring-day bad aim. This year the cold couldn’t be bothered to bring in Christmas, so until it could, I wouldn’t bother getting too excited about the best time of the year.
There wasn’t enough cold outside, so instead I brought it inside and turned it on Dash, who didn’t deserve it.