The Tori Trilogy (20 page)

Jeff plays with energy, his fingers flying over the piano keys, and I wonder if there is a single piece of music he doesn't know.

“Go, Abuelito!” hollers Joey. “Go, Auntie Crista!”

One by one, the rest of us join in, until the house is filled to the brim with the joyful noise of our voices:
“Feliz Navidad, prospero año, y felicidad
(Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and happiness)!”

From there, we go on to sing at least a dozen more carols, both in English and Spanish. Andrew cuddles with Stephanie on the couch. Dad laces one arm around Mom and the other around me. Uncle Javi moves his fingers gently through Aunt Leilani's long hair, turning every now and then to kiss her lips. Joy and Ethan snuggle against their parents. Uncle Gabe and Auntie Luz hold hands. Abuelito hugs Gina. Abuelita bounces Sofie on her lap. Uncle Kevin massages Auntie Crista's shoulders, and Auntie Crista gives Bella's arm a loving squeeze. Nate, Ben, Joey, and Michael sprawl across the carpet, man-slugging each other and laughing as we sing.

By the time we've finished, our voices are scratchy and hoarse, and the very youngest members of the family, Ethan and Sofie, are visibly tired. We decide it's time to open presents. Although the majority of our gifts are opened on Christmas Day, Abuelita and Abuelito insist on giving to us on Christmas Eve instead. The tradition is an exciting taste of presents-yet-to-come!

Ethan opens first. “A dinosaur play set!” he screams. “I wanted this! Abuelita, Abuelito, I
wanted
this! Thank you!” He jumps up and runs to hug our grandparents.

Uncle Javi winks at him. “Pretty cool, sport,” he says.

Then it's Sofie's turn, although she's half-asleep in Abuelita's lap by now. Auntie Luz helps her unwrap an adorable baby doll in a soft pink onesie.

That makes me think of my angel ornament from Jaine. I glance at it, swaying ever so slightly on the glittering Christmas tree. Then I look at Andrew and Stephanie and smile. As if guessing my thoughts, they smile back.

Joy opens an elaborate jewelry-making set.

Gina opens the lava lamps she's been wanting for her bedroom since last summer.

Then it's my turn. I open the professional stage make-up kit I've been wanting
forever!
Despite my hoarse throat, I scream louder than Ethan. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,
muchas gracias!”
I explode, flinging myself at my grandparents. “Now I'll be a totally legit acting student when I start those classes next month!”

Abuelito and Abuelita laugh affectionately, and Mom says, “Tori, calm
down!”

Nate guffaws. “What ten-year-old wears stage makeup to park-district acting classes?”

I ignore him. I also ignore all the rest of the gifts that everybody else opens, because I am so ecstatically happy with my own.

And, then, finally, Christmas Eve has wound to an end. It's after ten o'clock, and Ethan and Sofie especially are in desperate need of bedtime. Stephanie looks exhausted, shifting her weight to Andrew as he helps her off the couch. She leans her head on his shoulder and yawns.

Dad brings her coat over and helps her put it on. “Get some rest tonight, mommy-to-be,” he says, his eyes twinkling.

“I hope to!” Stephanie replies. Again, she glances quickly at Andrew.

As we crowd outside, spilling over the porch and seeing our family off, Joy suddenly jumps and jerks her finger toward the deep night sky. “Look!” she exclaims. “It's snowing!”

Unused to an outburst from Joy, everyone stops talking at once. We tilt back our heads and look up in wonderment. Soft, white feather-flakes float down from the heavens, collecting on the bare trees and the dead grass and even the railings of the porch.

Happiness and hope and a rush of wonderful, mysterious emotions that only comes this time of year flood through me. “It's snowing!” I repeat. I grab Gina and Joy, and we dance around the porch. “It's snowing! It's really, really snowing!”

Bella snags us and joins in. “Looks like we'll have a white Christmas, after all,” she says.

Chapter Nine

As soon as our guests have gone, we Salinas kids hang stockings by the fireplace. Nate, Ben, Joey, and I have had matching ones as long as I can remember, snowmen against a dark, starry background, with our names embroidered on the crisp white cuffs. Aunt Leilani packed Bella, Joy, and Ethan's stockings, which they dangle next to ours.

Stepping back to admire the mantelpiece, Ethan asks, “How will Santa know we're here? What if he thinks we're on Kauai this year, with Gramma and Granpa and Tutu Malia?”

“No worries, sport,” says Uncle Javi. “Santa Claus is one
pretty
smart dude.”

“Besides,” adds Mom, “once he gets down the chimney, he'll see your name on your stocking.”

“That's right, sweet love,” Aunt Leilani assures her son. “Now, I don't know about you, but I think Santa would really enjoy a couple of those chocolate-covered pretzels you helped make.”

“Yeah!” shrieks Ethan. He makes a mad dash for the kitchen, where leftover Christmas treats overflow the countertops.

After saying goodnight to our parents, Joy and I change into our p.j.'s and snuggle beneath our covers. I am happy to find Ebony curled between my pillow and the headboard of my bed, another favorite hiding place of hers. I pull her out and cradle her against me, letting her warmth seep through my pajama top. It sure is cold out, and Ebony is like a little radiator.

But she won't have
any
of that. She squirms and wriggles away, shoots me a
“Hello,
I'm nocturnal! How dare you try to take me to bed with you?” look, and struts beneath my desk.

“Ebony-zer Scrooge!” I call after her.

Joy, who by now is used to my sarcastic, one-sided cat conversations, giggles. “You know she loves you, Tori.”

“I'm starting to forget,” I snort, clicking off the lamp.

My cousin shifts on the roll-away bed. “I miss my dogs,” she remarks.

“Are they at a kennel?” I ask.

“No,” Joy replies. “Actually, they're staying at my best friend Tiffany's house. They've got a dog, too, and Mrs. Ericson never minds pet-sitting.”

“That's convenient,” I say.

“Yeah....” Joy's voice trails. “She reminds me of you, Tori,” she says at length.

“Who? Mrs. Ericson?”

“No!” Joy giggles again. “Tiffany. She's so confident and spunky and outgoing, like you are. I think you'd really like each other.”

“Probably,” I agree. “Have you known her a long time?”

“Since we were three. We went to preschool together.”

“Wow.”

“I know.” Joy rustles her sheets. “I admire outgoing people,” she announces suddenly. “That must be why I admire
you
so much, Tori. I'm--I'm glad we became friends.”

“Me, too!” I exclaim, my heart warmed by her words. “I think you're awesome! There's no one I'd rather have as a houseguest.”

“Really?”

“Really.” I draw a deep breath. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” Joy answers calmly.

“We-e-ell,” I stretch the word, “when I first heard your family would be staying here this Christmas, I wasn't too excited about it. I mean,” I rush on, “I thought it would be weird. I thought it would be kind of like having, um, having strangers in the house, if you get what I mean? Not that I didn't know you guys, but--I was worrying about Christmas morning, for instance, and that it might be awkward doing the whole stocking-unstuffing, present-unwrapping thing in our p.j.'s with another family around, and--”

“I get it,” Joy says. She sounds more amused than offended.

“You
do?”

“I can see how someone might feel that way.”

Relief washes through me. “But I don't anymore!” I assure her. “Because what I forgot to consider is that you guys
are
my family. My uncle, my aunt, my cousins. And, Joy, you're even
more
than that now. You're almost like--almost like...a sister to me.”

“Oh, Tori,” says Joy in a quivery voice. “I feel the same way about you.”

I drift off to sleep on a cloud of happiness.

“Tori. Tori.” A soft voice whispers insistently at my ear. “Victoria, wake up, sweetheart.”

I rub my hands across my eyes and sit up slowly, surprised to find that the room is still dark.

A shadowy figure settles onto the edge of my bed.

“Mom?” I whisper, blinking. “What are you--What time is it?”

“It's four in the morning,” she says softly, “which means it's Christmas. Merry Christmas, honey.”

“Merry Christmas,” I manage. “But-but, Mom--”

“Shhh,” she interrupts me. “Don't wake Joy. I came in here to tell you that about fifteen minutes ago, I got a call on my cell phone from Andrew. He's taking Stephanie to the hospital now.”

My heart jumps into my throat, and I come suddenly wide-awake. “Really?” I cry.

“Quiet,” Mom reminds me. Then she wraps me in a hug. “Isn't this exciting? I thought you'd want to know first thing.”

She was right about that. A sudden realization strikes me. “Mom,” I say, “this means the baby will be born in time for Christmas, after all!”

“You've got it.”

Happiness engulfs me momentarily, before a wave of worry slams me against a hard stone wall. What if the baby is a boy? What if I get a nephew instead of a niece? This is it, I realize. This is the moment of truth!

As soon as Mom has left my room, I ignore her admonition and bound across the carpeted floor to wake up Joy. I shake her till she sits up straight, clutching Bubbles and Marcia to her chest, her long hair spilling in a tangle of waves across her shoulders.

“Tori?” she asks. “What time is it? What's going on?”

“It's just after four,” I say. “It's Christmas morning now. But that's not why I woke you up. My mom just came in to tell me that Stephanie's on her way to the hospital. The baby will be born today!”

The news wakes up Joy like a splash of cold water. “That's wonderful!” she gasps. “Oh, I hope you get a niece, Tori. You really
do
deserve it!”

I squeeze her hand. “Thanks! I hope so, too! I don't think I'll be able to sleep the rest of the night.”

“Me, neither,” Joy admits. “This is so exciting.”

I bite my lip. “Sorry I woke you up,” I say.

“Oh, no!” she breathes. “I'm
glad
you woke me up.”

“Good,” I reply, relieved. “Do you want to get in my bed and talk?”

Joy agrees readily. Pony and rag doll in tow, she follows me across the carpet. We slip beneath my covers together, lying on our sides and sharing my pillow. It's a bit of a crunch, two people in a twin bed, but we're both on the small side, and it works. We talk for a long time, mostly about the baby, but also about our favorite Christmas memories and the wonderful time we had last night with our family and what kind of surprises we might find bulging from our stockings and tucked beneath the Christmas tree.

I don't remember falling asleep, but I guess we must have, because next thing I know, I hear Joey's obnoxious voice.

“Aw, isn't that just the sweetest thing? Two bugs in a rug! Were you girls
cold?”

I open my eyes to bright light. The window shades have been opened, and outside a golden winter sun glints off a fresh white blanket of Christmas snow.

Joey stands at the foot of my bed, where I'm curled up next to Joy. He wears a sarcastic smirk on his face a mile wide, his hair is gel-tousled, and he's already dressed in his usual cold-weather get-up of jeans, a T-shirt, and a zippered hoodie. I sometimes forget that my older brothers are
too cool
to run downstairs in p.j.'s Christmas morning like they did when they were little.

Joy sits up next to me. “We must have fallen asleep,” she murmurs, mirroring my thoughts.

My brother snorts. “You two were out cold, that's for sure. Now get outta bed. I wanna open presents!”

“Greedy, greedy,” I yawn, slipping off the mattress. As I reach for my slipper socks, a question seizes me. “Joey!” I gasp. “Did Stephanie have the baby yet?”

He shrugs. “Still no word from Andrew. Mom says labor can take forever.”

“What time is it?” Joy wonders.

“Eight-thirty-five,” says Joey. “Christmas is the one, single, solitary day of the year on which I don't believe in sleeping late.”

“That means it's been four-and-a-half hours since they went to the hospital,” I say. “That baby's got to be born soon!” My heart thumping wildly, I tug a sweatshirt over my p.j.'s and follow Joey and Joy into the hallway.

Ebony darts after me, swishes around my ankles, and swiftly returns to my room. “What?” I call after her. “Is that your way of apologizing for being a brat last night?”

She glances over her shoulder, then keeps on walking.

“Okay, okay,” I relent. “Merry Christmas to you, too!”

Mom, Dad, Nate, Ben, and Bella are already standing in the hallway. Uncle Javi, Aunt Leilani, and Ethan wait at the bottom of the staircase. Glancing around, I realize that Joy and Ethan and I are the only ones wearing p.j.'s. Oh, well. We all call “Merry Christmas!” to each other and descend upon the living room like a pack of wild dogs.

First we unstuff stockings.

“Santa found us!” exults Ethan, pulling a chocolate reindeer and a Beanie Baby from the top of his stocking.

Bella exclaims over a six-pack of body shimmer. My brothers discover boring things like energy drinks and pocketknives. Joy and I both get shiny pink lip gloss, similar to Bella's, and Webkinz! Mine is an octopus (one that I wanted) and Joy's is a parrot.

Mom brews coffee in the kitchen, and Dad pulls our Christmas-morning coffeecake out of the fridge and sets it on a tray with plates and knives and napkins. Uncle Javi and Aunt Leilani take pictures of their kids with Uncle Javi's camera: Bella looking trendy and beautiful in her skinny jeans and makeup, Joy and Ethan cute and bedraggled with their messy hair and p.j.'s. They take pictures of me, too, but Nate, Ben, and Joey distance themselves.