The Second Trial (28 page)

It was Mom's turn to bite her lip.

The next couple of gifts were hits. For Julia, a hot water bottle with a fuzzy cover shaped like a lamb. Danny unwrapped an illuminated Frisbee, deep yellow, and shot through with brilliant white lights.
Fire Frisbee
the label said. He twirled it on his fingertip and Buddy was all over him.

“No, Bud, this one's not for you,” he said.
No, this one I'll keep
to play with my…friends.

A box with four movie passes. A red-and-white Canada flag hacky-sack ball.

Mom opened her first gift.
To Mom from Santa Claus
HO-HO-HO
. A handmade tea cozy shaped like a poodle held assorted tea bags. She flipped through the exotic names – Formosa Oolong, Jasmine, Lapsang Souchong. Danny knew she was a coffee drinker. “I can serve them when company comes over,” she announced. The second Santa's gift was a box of scented bath salts. Danny knew she generally showered. “They'll smell lovely,” she said.

Danny and Julia had identical large boxes. He knew what to expect.
To my Son, All my Love Always, Mom.
Socks, underwear, jeans, a T-shirt, and a sweater. All of them new and expensive looking. His hands fumbled with the clothes as he tried to put them back, but the box seemed to have gotten too small. Mom watched silently.

Julia glowed as she reached into a bag she'd hidden under a couch cushion. She handed Danny a surprisingly heavy plastic margarine tub topped with a green and red foil bow. “Don't shake it,” she warned. “They might chip.”

He hefted the tub up and down, each movement piling lead weights on his heart.

He knew what it was.

He loosened the tape.

She'd nestled at least a dozen painted stones – smooth round ones shaped like flattened eggs – in a tissue-paper nest. She'd painted each one a solid color and then decorated it with a symbol. One had a sun, unmistakable from a million children's drawings, another had a quarter moon. There was an Egyptian eye, a star, a red circle with a green stem coming out of what he guessed was an apple. One of the larger stones was painted light blue, with a black-and-white patchwork. He held it in his hand.

“It's supposed to be Buddy,” Julia said, “but it didn't come out so good.”

He swallowed.
Stones can help you be strong.
He hadn't seen Grandpa's stone in months. He looked down, squeezed his eyes and his heart shut.

“And what have we here,” Mom said loudly, drawing Julia's attention away from her brother. She made a show of shaking a box by her ear. “Hmmm, what can it be?” she mused, reading the tag aloud.
To Mom from Jewel.

“Open it, Mom,” Julia said impatiently.

“Okay, okay, let me enjoy it,” she laughed. Inside were two stud earrings with glittering artificial garnets and a bottle of matching nail polish labeled,
Red Dawn.

“I bought the earrings for you,” Julia said, scooting over to sit beside her mother, “and then I thought I could paint the nail polish on you and you could paint it on me.”

Mom looked at her hands. Her nails still didn't show much visible white. She looked up and smiled at Julia.

“Maybe I could help you grow your nails again, Mom.”

“That'd be great, Sweetie. I'm going to make it my New Year's resolution.” She hugged her daughter with a tenderness that made Danny ache.

Julia still had her large box. “Clothes,” she announced, ripping off the gold bow. Fruit-of-the-Loom socks, days-of-the-week panties, jeans, a T-shirt, a hoodie. Without pausing, she scooped up the clothes and dashed upstairs.

That left Danny and his mom alone. Mom put on a new CD. He started to tug at his box of clothes. Then he blurted, “I didn't get anything.”

She nodded. “I understand. But I'm not sure Jewel will.” She paused. “I have to go baste the turkey,” she said, leaving him alone to face his sister.

Julia bounced down and trotted into the kitchen. He imagined her pirouetting before their mother, showing her the new clothes. He heard both of them laugh, and he pictured Mom pulling his sister into another tight hug, the love between them bringing out the best in each other.

Julia returned to the living room, where Danny had not moved. She confronted him, hands on hips.

“You didn't get us anything, did you?”

He stared back at her.

“At least you could have made an effort.”

“What'd ya want me to do? Go steal something?”

She curled her hands into fists. “You treat me like I'm invisible. You're no different than dad.”

With calm deliberation she said, “You are an asshole.”

Chapter 22

Danny heard the doorbell from his bedroom. After a few moments, his mother called.

“David, we have company! Come on down.”

He opened the door and looked down the stairs. It was Scott. Danny's stomach lurched.

“Hi, David,” Scott called, his voice cautious.

“David, Scott has something for us.”

Surely, on Christmas Day, it couldn't be.
His mind raced. He took each stair gingerly, as if it might suddenly slope and pitch him to the bottom.

“Come in and sit down,” Mom said, motioning toward the living room.

“Oh, no thanks.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I have to get back to my family.”

Danny swallowed and stayed at the base of the stairs.

Scott unzipped his parka and pulled three envelopes from the inside pocket.

“We took up a collection at the office. These are for you.” He thrust them awkwardly at Susan.

She looked at the names written on each one. “There's one for each of us,” she announced. Julia came up to take hers, but didn't open it right away. Mom held out Danny's envelope. He shuffled forward and took it.

Julia opened hers first. Inside was a stiff piece of cardboard with red and green holly printed around the border. “It's a gift certificate,” she said.

Lloyd's Cycle
Gift Certificate for Julia Mayer
Two Hundred and Fifty Dollars
$250.00
Merry Christmas!

She looked at the certificate, then over at Scott.

“It's…it's for a bicycle,” he offered, stubbing his boot into the carpet. “I know how hard it is for kids to get around when the family doesn't have a car and you want to visit friends and stuff.”

Danny pushed his thumb under the flap and slowly tore his open.

Lloyd's Cycle
Gift Certificate for David Mayer
Two Hundred and Fifty Dollars
$250.00 Merry Christmas!

Scott smiled. “It won't buy a fancy bike, but you'll be able to get around.”

“Wow,” said Julia. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Danny mumbled.

Susan fumbled with hers. It unfolded into a full-sized sheet. Santa Claus flew his reindeer over a glittering Christmas tree.

Susan Mayer.
Five Hundred Dollar ($500.00) Gift Certificate
Murray's Department Store.

She was speechless. “I – I don't know how to thank you.”

Scott rubbed his hand along his cheek and turned to go. “We think of you often and hope this helps. Merry Christmas,” he said, and hastened out.

No one moved. Susan looked at Julia, then at Danny. She sat on the couch, holding the certificate in front of her as she read and reread it.

“Oh, my God,” she said, “There aren't many people in those offices. They must have contributed…a hundred…or a hundred and fifty dollars each.”

She didn't try to hide her tears.

Danny heard the sharp rap at the back door. It was Papa Joe. Buddy's body gyrated against the old man, his tail threatening to beat Papa Joe's legs out from under him.

“Buddy-boy! Hey, take it easy.” Papa Joe smiled at Danny. “Look here! Brought a little somethin' for the pooch,” he said, offering a small, loosely wrapped package. “T'ain't much, but I sure 'ppreciate havin' your dog with me on my walks.”

Danny unwrapped a cherry-red cotton headscarf with a black border.

“Used to get them for my Ranger,” Papa Joe said. “Seemed to make him feel special, all dressed up.” He folded the scarf in a triangle and tied it loosely under the dog's chin. His arthritic fingers struggled with the knot. The tip of the scarf lay jauntily across Buddy's shoulder. The dog dashed back and forth between Danny and Papa Joe, his tail beating like a round of applause.

For as long as Danny could remember, they'd hung their stockings from hooks permanently screwed under the fireplace mantel. This year, Mom had improvised and had propped them up against the wall behind the tree.

Traditionally, they'd opened the stocking gifts first. Everything was small enough to fit inside, but some of the contents were expensive: a compass, a fossilized shark's tooth, or a Swiss Army knife with a dozen attachments. And always, a Christmas orange in the toe.

This year they opened the stockings after lunch. Everything was from the dollar store, even the stockings. Small pads of pink post-it notes shaped like hearts for Julia and yellow rectangles for Danny. Miniature chocolate bars left over from Hallowe'en. Julia got some costume jewelry, lavender-scented bath oil beads, and a deck of Winnipeg souvenir playing cards. He opened a pair of socks, another hacky-sack, and a mechanical pencil.

“Thanks, Mom,” Julia said after she'd unloaded her stocking. Danny mumbled something that could have been a thank you as he stuffed the items back into the stocking.

“Wait, there's one more,” Mom said. “I didn't want to put it out because I thought it might cause problems.” She went to the kitchen.

Buddy's nose began to twitch. The dog's stocking was larger than theirs and was crammed full. Dog biscuits, dog bones, squeaky toys, and a new brush. A length of rope for tug-of-war dangled over its top. The biscuits were unwrapped and irregular in shape. It was clear Mom had baked them herself.

“Here you go, Bud,” she said, tossing him a biscuit. He caught it in mid-air and settled down beside the couch to crunch his treat.

“No stocking for you, Mom?” Julia asked.

“Next year,” she replied.

Danny decided to walk Buddy. He found himself passing Nixxie's house. Although the walk was cleared of snow, it seemed no one was at home. Only a few cars drove the streets. The snow crunched like icing sugar under his feet. Each footfall was like the ticking of a clock.

His mother had made an effort. Right now, she was cooking Christmas dinner, just as she had all his life.

Julia had made an effort. She'd crafted decorations and presents. She'd been patient when he deliberately overslept. She'd taken the time – a lot of time – to find and paint the rocks. She'd saved her allowance and bought Mom a gift to help her heal. Except when she'd told him off, she'd been polite and cheerful. She never let up on the spirit of Christmas.

And she was only nine.

And they'd never before received the kindness of strangers – the people at NIVA who gave them so much when they didn't have to give a dime. Volunteers who delivered donated gifts and food. The good wishes and gestures of neighbors and friends who made his family feel special. He now saw that their last Christmas with Dad had been solitary and isolated. The piles of gifts had masked the lack of friends and relatives. They were good Christmases, even great ones, but maybe not the kind you'd want every year for a lifetime. Before today, he'd never considered there might be more to Christmas than gifts.

Mom had planned every detail for Christmas dinner. She'd picked up an old pewter candelabra at a garage sale and placed three elegant, slender red candles on the snowflake-patterned table cloth. Julia had cut the white paper napkins into matching snowflakes. Christmas crackers waited on each plate. Sparkling apple cider the color of champagne filled three borrowed wine goblets.

Julia's eyes sparkled as she tucked into the food. “Can my bike be red, Mom?” she asked.

“I don't see why not,” she replied. She reached out to cover her daughter's hand with her own, but her eyes were fastened on Danny.

“Can I bake something from my cookbook after supper?” Julia asked.

“Well, Jewel, I was hoping you'd both help me do dishes. Maybe it'd be better for tomorrow. And,” Mom continued, “this week we'll all get new skates, because – I got the job!”

“Yes!” Julia yelled, pumping her fist. “Does that mean I can go to soccer camp in the summer?”

“Sounds good, Jewel.” She turned to Danny. “What would you like to do?”

“I dunno,” he mumbled. “Haven't thought about it.”

“Well, you can start thinking about it now, Davey-boy. Let's plan ahead. It's going to be a great year.”

Chapter 23

Laughter woke Danny on Boxing Day. Julia made a cookbook-recipe breakfast – Goofy's scrambled eggs with diced red and green peppers. Mom and Julia painted their nails and baked gingerbread men. Julia spent time with Emma or played fox and geese in the snow with the other kids.

Danny wasted most of the week in his room. Other than placing the tub of rocks on the dresser – and installing the lock – he'd done nothing to fix it up. Scuff marks and plaster holes still marked the walls. The black bodies of dead flies lay inside the 60-watt ceiling fixture. The curtains hung crookedly from a sagging curtain rod. He lay on the bed and daydreamed about the past.

As New Year's approached, Julia alternated between wanting to go back to school to see her friends and not wanting the holiday to end. “I'm going to make a New Year's resolution this year,” she announced at supper. “I'm going to make a new friend every month, and I'm going to score the most points on the soccer team.”

Susan ruffled her daughter's hair. “That sounds wonderful, Jewel.”

“What're you gonna do, Mom?”

“Other than grow my nails? I'm not sure yet. I've always wanted to take a sewing course so I can make more than just Hallowe'en costumes. Maybe I can get a used sewing machine and start learning.”