Time Off for Good Behavior (39 page)

And I knew at that moment exactly what I wanted and whom I wanted it with.

“
That theme music,
”
I said.
“
That
’
s not even close to a classical style, is it?
”

He laughed.
“
Not really, no.
”

I licked my spoon and laughed. Dad sighed.

“
It
’
s good to have you back, Wanda. I wish you would stay for Christmas.
”

“
I can
’
t,
”
I said.
“
I have plans tomorrow night. But...
”
I sat up and looked at him.
“
Mom
’
s birthday is in February. Why
don
’
t you guys come out for a visit? I
’
d love for you to meet my friends.
”

“
And your young man,
”
he said, raising an eyebrow.

I smiled and snuggled back next to him and settled in for two glorious hours of Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. And Jimmy Stewa
rt.

***

“
Anne Marie keeps forgetting her line right before the spaceship comes down,
”
Alex said, wringing his hands as he sat down next to me. It was Christmas Eve, and Osgiliath
’
s was packed full. The Santa Station w
as doing triple its regular business, and the seats we
’
d set up in front of the puppet show were starting to fill. T minus thirty minutes, and Alex was beginning to unravel.

“
Don
’
t worry about it,
”
I said, clicking the remote control on the camera and typi
ng the name of the little boy on Bones
’
s knee into the NASCAR-themed border I
’
d chosen for him.
“
I gave her an Itty Bitty Book Light and a copy of the script. It
’
ll be fine.
”

“
Do you think it
’
s too weird?
”
he said.
“
You know, having Santa Claus be an alien
?
”

I laughed.
“
I think it
’
s great. It
’
s a great play, you
’
re doing a great job. Now, relax.
”
The printer whined as Anne Marie pulled another kid out of the train and ushered him to Bones.

“
What if they all laugh?
”
he asked.
“
What if they
don't
laugh?
”

I p
ut my arm around his shoulders.
“
If you were twenty-one, I
’
d make you take a drink. As it is, I need that camera shot lined up. Go to work, boy.
”

I picked up the printout and placed it inside the cardboard frame, standing up to give it to the father of the
little boy in it. I looked up with a smile into a nasty little pencil face.

“
Oh, man,
”
I said under my breath. Pencil Face was gripping his child
’
s hand so tightly I thought the poor kid was going to start crying. He was a pudgy kid, looked to be about ni
ne or ten, wearing a brown suit and loafers, and in his eyes I saw the fearful reflections of a thousand playground bullies.

“
Exactly what is this?
”
Pencil Face hissed.

“
It
’
s a picture.
”
I handed it to the boy and gave him a wink, which was met with a smal
l smile that never reached his eyes. I stood up and crossed my arms, looking for any sign of recognition from Pencil Face. There was none. I was just another bug to wipe off the windshield when he was done, same as before.

The kid opened up the folded card
board with his free hand.
“
Cool. NASCAR.
”

Pencil Face gave his kid
’
s arm a jerk for good measure. I glared at him.
“
What exactly is your problem, sir?
”

“
Santa Claus,
”
he spat, jerking his head toward Bones,
“
is
black
.
”

“
Oh, for crying out loud,
”
I said.
“
A
re you kidding me?
”

“
What am I supposed to tell my kid,
”
he said,
“
when he comes here and sees a black fucking Santa Claus?
”

“
Whatever you say,
”
I hissed back,
“
you should watch your language.
”

His eyes narrowed into slits.
“
I want my money back. I didn
’
t
pay eight bucks for my kid to be sitting on the lap of a black damn Santa Claus.
”

I rolled my eyes and went into the cash box, grabbing eight dollars and thrusting it back at him, and wishing I
’
d knocked his lights out when I had the chance. The boy, with
an expression of disappointment if not surprise, held the picture out to me. I leaned down and gently put it back in his hands.
“
You keep that, kid. Merry Christmas.
”

The kid smiled up at me, then looked tentatively to Pencil Face.

Pencil Face rolled his e
yes at the kid and spat,
“
Fine. Keep it,
”
as he dragged the kid away. I watched them leave, wishing I could grab that kid and hug away the crap that came with having Pencil Face for a father. Unfortunately, there was no fixing some things.

“
It
’
s time,
”
Ale
x said, coming up behind me and tugging on my shirtsleeve. I turned and saw the excited face of a virgin playwright and put my arm around his shoulders.

“
Let
’
s go.
”

There were enough seats for thirty people, but Alex and I were left standing in the back wi
th about twenty other latecomers as
Santa Claus Is From Salkog-9
began. Jack, Kacey, Elizabeth, and Matt found their way through the crowd, and we all surrounded Alex as the show got under way I glanced at Alex a few times during the show. His eyes were lo
cked intently on the puppets, his lips moving with the lines as they were said. He smiled when lines got laughs, and frowned during a couple of unintended twitters. I
’
d never seen the kid so involved in anything. At the end, when everyone did a standing o
v
ation, the players came out for their bows, waving for Alex to join them. As he took his bows with the troupe, Elizabeth nudged me with her shoulder, and we laughed as we realized we were both crying. Kacey looked up at us and rolled her eyes.
Grown-ups.

At the party afterward, I sidled up to Jack and put my arm through his as we watched Elizabeth proudly showing Alex off, with Matt at her side.

“
How ya doin
’
?
”
I asked.

He looked down at me and smiled.
“
I
’
m fine.
”

“
If it means anything,
”
I said, motioning
my cup of punch toward Matt,
“
he
’
s a bit of a Ken doll.
”

Jack laughed, taking a sip of his punch.
“
Yeah, but he makes her happy, doesn
’
t he?
”

I nodded.
“
Yeah. He does.
”

He tossed his empty cup in a nearby trash can and gave me a quick hug.
“
I gotta go. Can
you tell Elizabeth I
’
ll be by to get the kids around two tomorrow?
”

I smiled.
“
Sure.
”

“
Thanks,
”
he said.
“
You gonna be there?
”

“
No,
”
I said.
“
I
’
ve got plans.
”

“
Okay, well, merry Christmas.
”
He hugged me again, then slipped out quietly. I watched him go. N
o matter how cool Matt was, and no matter how rotten Jack had been, I knew I
’
d always hold a torch for Jack and Elizabeth. But what
’
s none of my business is none of my business, and I had my own screwed-up life to attend to.

I felt an arm link through mine
and was practically knocked over by Shelley
’
s mammoth stomach.

“
That kid homesteading or what?
”
I asked.
“
Aren
’
t you due yet?
”

She shook her head, taking a sip of punch.
“
No. I
’
m not due until January fifth.
”

I could see her belly button protruding throug
h her shirt.

“
That
’
s it,
”
I said.
“
I
’
m definitely adopting little girls from China.
”

She smiled.
“
I
’
m glad you
’
ll be here with Bones. It makes me feel better about leaving.
”

I shrugged.
“
It
’
s only six weeks. Or was it eight weeks? When are you coming back
again?
”

She knit her eyebrows at me.
“
Did Bones tell you I was coming back?
”

I sucked in some breath.
“
You
’
re not coming back?
”

She shook her head and laughed.
“
That old sneak. He told me you
’
d agreed to take the position permanently.
”

I laughed and looked
over at Bones entertaining the kids with an animated reading of
“
The Night Before Christmas.
”

“
So,
”
she said,
“
will you stay?
”

I patted her arm.
“
Are you kidding? How could I pass up the chance to bug Bones on a full-time basis?
”

She squeezed my hand.
“
I
’
m glad. I
’
ll get with you next week and we
’
ll go over the details.
”
She started to walk away, then turned around.
“
Make sure he pays you well.
”

I grinned.
“
I will.
”

I watched Shelley waddle over to stand near Bones. Matt and Elizabeth were fawning over Ale
x by the refreshments. Kacey was standing on her own nearby. I caught her eye and waved her over.

“
Geez,
”
she said.
“
You
’
d think he
’
d just opened on Broadway, the way Mom
’
s gushing over him.
”

“
I
’
m proud of your brother,
”
I said,
“
and I
’
d lecture you on the fact that you should be, too, but we
’
ve got work to do. You ready?
”