The Tori Trilogy (18 page)

Joy closes her eyes. I'm almost positive she falls asleep on the spot.

Aunt Leilani crosses to my bed and wraps me in a hug. “Joy's a little overtired,” she tells me softly. “She'll feel much better after a good night's sleep.”

“Okay,” I say, finding myself (once again) having to force a smile. “'Night, Aunt Leilani.”

“Sweet dreams, Tori.” She shuts the door softly on her way out of my room.

I stare after her a moment, then turn out the lamp and fall asleep--almost as quickly as Joy.

When I open my eyes the next morning, I am surprised at first to see my cousin, lying right across the room on a roll-away bed, but then I remember. Christmas houseguests. Ugh.

Oddly enough, Joy opens
her
eyes at almost the same time. She stares at me in puzzlement for a moment, and then she, too, remembers. “'Morning, Tori,” she half-whispers.

She talked to me first! I didn't anticipate
that.
“'Morning,” I reply.

We continue staring at each other for an entire minute. Good grief. Finally, I say, “Can I see your stuffed animals?”

Wordlessly, Joy reaches under the covers and pulls out a pink pony with a blue mane and tail, and a floppy rag doll that seems
very
familiar. They're both worn-out and loved-looking. “The pony is Bubbles,” she says softly, “and the doll is Marcia. I've had them since I was a baby.”

I squint, trying to place the doll. Then I've got it! “Did Abuelita give Marcia to you?” I ask. The rag doll looks just like the type our grandmother brings back from the Indian markets in Peru. I have one, too, but I think it's in the attic.

“Yes!” Joy's eyes brighten. “Marcia's really special to me because she makes me feel close to Abuelita and Abuelito. It's hard, sometimes, being far apart.”

That's the most she's spoken since she got here. Trying to keep up the momentum, I show her my dragon. “This is Starfire,” I say. “I've had her forever, in case you can't tell.”

Joy giggles. “She's cute!”

“Thanks.” I tuck Starfire beneath my neck. “So,” I venture, “what's it like in Santa Luna?” My family went there once to visit Uncle Javi's family, but I was only four at the time and barely remember.

“Very different from here,” Joy says thoughtfully. “In my neighborhood, the houses are stucco, and everyone has a swimming pool and Jacuzzi. There are so many different kinds of plants and trees and animals, and we have forests and farms and vineyards nearby. Since Santa Luna's part of the San Francisco Bay Area, we can drive into the city or go to great beaches. It's warmer there than it is here, but nowhere near as hot as Southern California.”

“Does it ever snow?” I ask.

“In the mountains,” replies Joy. “But not around us. That's why I was hoping it would be snowy when we got into Chicago. But my dad said yesterday was pretty warm for this time in December.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Yeah. I wish it would snow, too. I check out the window every morning. In fact....” I sit up on the mattress and pull back the window curtain, gazing expectantly out at a dull, gray world. I groan. “No such luck.”

Joy sighs. “We still have three days until Christmas,” she reminds me. “I hope it's a white Christmas, because next year for sure will be a
green
Christmas for my family!”

“Do you like that?” I ask. “Taking turns spending Christmas in Chicago and Kauai?”

“I love it,” my cousin answers, a dreamy smile spreading over her face. “They're so different from each other, but both wonderful! I can't choose which kind of Christmas I like better.”

“That's awesome,” I say. Then I notice the chocolate Santa that Uncle Javi removed from Joy's pillow last night. I snatch it from my bed table. “My mom left this for you,” I say. “You want candy for breakfast?”

To my surprise, Joy says, “Sure! Let's split it.”

So we eat the chocolate Santa and talk and talk and talk. I tell Joy about my passion for acting, about the yearly drama day camp I attend at the YMCA, and the new round of park-district theater and improv classes that will begin in January. Joy tells me about her love for art: drawing, jewelry-making, and even designing her own Halloween costumes. She's also a writer, and everywhere she goes she takes a special journal, which she fills with private thoughts and short stories, as well as drawings and illustrations. We talk about Andrew and Stephanie's baby, and how much I deserve a niece after having put up with four big brothers all my life. Joy tells me what it's like to have a sister
and
a brother.

By the time we've licked the last of the chocolate off our fingers, I think that maybe this Christmas houseguest thing won't be so terrible, after all.

Chapter Seven

After a quick breakfast, Uncle Javi, Aunt Leilani, and my three cousins drive out to Cicero in their rental car to spend the day with Abuelita and Abuelito. Once they've gone, Mom says she needs to run out and do some last-minute Christmas shopping. On her way to the mall, she drops me off at Auntie Luz and Uncle Gabe's house, where Gina and I spend a long, lazy afternoon watching movies in the rec room with our friend Emily.

Mom picks me up early in the evening, and by the time we get home, Uncle Javi's family has returned, bringing Abuelita and Abuelito with them! Aunt Leilani surprises Mom with a big, beautiful potted poinsettia, which Mom displays on the coffee table in the living room. Then Uncle Javi surprises
everyone
by announcing that he'll be treating us to dinner at a special restaurant as soon as Dad gets home from work.

Mom protests, but Uncle Javi and Aunt Leilani insist that it's the least they can do for their generous hosts. They invite Auntie Luz's family and Andrew and Stephanie to join us. Auntie Luz and Uncle Gabe accept right away, but Andrew thanks Uncle Javi and Aunt Leilani and says that Stephanie's not feeling up to going out. I wonder, with a shiver of hope, if that means anything?

The group of us eats dinner at an upscale steakhouse called Sammy's. There is a lot of laughter, conversation, and reminiscing. Gina and Joy and I sit together, and by the end of the meal, I can tell Gina likes Joy as much as I do. Once you get past her shyness and timidity, she's really a lot of fun.

That night, after Joy and I get into bed and turn out the lights, we talk so long and so late that Mom and Aunt Leilani have to knock on the door on two separate occasions to remind us to go to sleep.

At last, we settle down, but Joy drifts off long before I do.

I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, hoping with all of my heart for a niece. When will that baby
ever
be born?

On Wednesday, December twenty-third, Auntie Crista, Uncle Kevin, and their seventeen-year-old twin sons Michael and Jeff arrive from Ohio. Although they are forty-five minutes away, settling into Abuelita and Abuelito's Cicero bungalow, it is exciting to know that I'll see them tomorrow, on Christmas Eve!

The day goes quickly. We bake a final batch of Christmas cookies, and this time, Uncle Javi, Aunt Leilani, and my cousins are here to help us decorate the cut-out shapes. We make chocolate-dipped pretzel sticks, too, and Ethan nearly makes himself sick by sneaking too many spoonfuls of melted chocolate bark.

In the evening, when Dad gets home from work, we order two extra-large pizzas, two sides of cheddar-garlic bread sticks, and a family-sized chopped Italian salad from Gianmarco's. Jaine joins us for dinner, giving Uncle Javi and Aunt Leilani a chance to meet her. After we've eaten, Ben and Jaine wander off by themselves to exchange Christmas presents. They have to do it a little early, because tomorrow morning Jaine and her family are driving to St. Louis to spend Christmas with her grandmother.

The rest of us pitch in to clean up the kitchen. When we've finished, we relax by the fireplace in the living room. A crackling blaze roars on the hearth, giving heat to the drafty house. Joey and Bella stretch out on their stomachs to play a game of Uno with Ethan (who needs a little help every now and then). Uncle Javi, his arms wrapped tight around Aunt Leilani, holds a conversation with Nate about Nate's classes at the community college and part-time job at the bookstore. Dad sits on a chair behind Mom, massaging her tired shoulders, and Joy and I curl up in a corner of the couch and whisper. Christmas lights, both indoors and out, fill the room with magic.

Before long, Ben and Jaine rejoin us. Ben has a new pair of expensive-looking headphones looped around his neck, and Jaine wears a slender heart bracelet on her wrist and holds a modest-sized bottle of Juicy Couture perfume. Predictable. She also holds a sparkly wrapped package topped with a gold-and-silver bow, which she extends to me.
Not
predictable. “Merry Christmas, Tori,” she says.

I gasp. “For real?” I ask.

Jaine and Ben both laugh. “Of course,” replies Jaine. “Open it up!”

Still in a state of shock, I tear off the pretty paper, letting it fall to a heap on the floor, pull open the lid of the white cardboard box, and rustle through a layer of festive tissue paper. Nestled inside is a porcelain baby angel, dressed in a pale-pink gown, with golden-tinged wings and a single, curly lock of painted hair. For a moment, I don't know what to say. The angel is cute, but not exactly my style.

I glance up at Jaine. “Thank you,” I manage.

She smiles. “Don't you get it? When we had breakfast at Shelly's Place a few weeks ago, I asked you what you wanted for Christmas, and you said you wanted a niece. A baby girl angel was the closest thing I could find.”

I gasp again. Suddenly, that little ornament is worth the world to me. I set it gently aside and, for the first time in my life, rush into Jaine's arms to give her a hug. “I love it!” I cry honestly.

“I'm glad,” beams Jaine, and in that moment I know that she truly
does
care. “Why don't you hang it on the Christmas tree?”

“I will.” Removing the baby angel from its box, I carefully dangle it from a perfect pine bough.

“That's so pretty,” says Joy.

I gaze at the angel. “Maybe it's a sign,” I whisper.

Jaine wraps her hand over my shoulder. “Maybe it is,” she agrees.

I decide I like Ben's girlfriend.

When Joy and I wake up on Christmas Eve, there is
still
no sign of snow. The temperature has dropped steadily over the past few days, however, and now it's down in the twenties.

“Darn!” I grumble, pulling the covers over my head. “You'd think it could snow for Christmas Eve!”

Joy giggles. “There's still enough time to hope for a white Christmas,” she replies good-naturedly. “Come on, Tori, let's get up.”

It's hard to get out of bed when it's cold, especially when you live in a big, drafty house. Especially when it's Christmas Eve, and there's no snow. Especially when your brother and sister-in-law's baby, who was due three days ago, still hasn't arrived. Especially if you're worried to death that that baby may be a
boy.
But I do it, anyway, tossing off the covers in one swift motion to get it over with, like ripping off a Band-Aid. Joy and I hurry to get dressed, each of us pulling on a couple of layers of socks. Then we make the beds.

Even my neatest bed-making is sloppier than Joy's. Her roll-away is pristine, the sheets pulled taught and tucked evenly on all sides, the blankets smoothed across the top, the pillow plumped perfectly, with Bubbles the pony and Marcia the rag doll propped against it. In contrast, my twin-sized bed looks like a lumpy mess. I fluff my throw pillows and line my stuffed animals in a row, in an attempt to make it better.

Then I give up. “I'm hungry,” I say. “Let's go grab some breakfast.”

“I'll be down in a minute,” Joy tells me.

I turn to find her sitting cross-legged on the roll-away, her journal open in her lap, a pink gel pen in her hand. “Are you writing?” I ask.

She nods. “I promise I won't be long.”

“No, that's okay,” I reply quickly. “I just....I mean, what are you writing about?”

Joy looks up, locking eyes with me. “I'm writing,” she says, “about two very different cousins, from two very different places, who become
very
good friends one Christmas.”

A warmth fills my heart and spills like liquid through my body. “Wonder where you got that idea?” I ask.

Christmas Eve day is incredibly busy. There is an endless amount of work to be done before the house is ready for our big family celebration in the evening. Thankfully, Dad took the day off so he could help. He and Uncle Javi make a grocery-store run, fix a leaky faucet, rearrange furniture, and inventory the Christmas presents. Mom and Aunt Leilani cook, clean, set the table, and polish silverware. My brothers and cousins and I are assigned
too
many chores: vacuuming, dusting, de-cluttering, and scrubbing the bathrooms from floor to ceiling.

Mom keeps arguing that our houseguests should sit back, relax, and enjoy, but they all (even Ethan, who talks more than he helps) insist on pitching in.

At last, it is mid-afternoon, and darkness settles over the town. As Christmas lights blink on across Forest Grove, we take turns in the showers, get dressed, and make ourselves presentable.

In my bedroom, Joy and I blow-dry our hair and admire each other's holiday outfits. I'm wearing the beautiful burgundy sweater-dress Mom bought me, black leggings, and fashion boots with fluffy black cuffs. Silver snowflake earrings glitter in my lobes, and a matching snowflake necklace ties the look together. Joy's wearing a princess-waisted royal-blue dress with a silver shrug sweater, silver tights, and patent-leather shoes with a tiny heel. Sparkly star studs shine in her ears.

“You look
so
pretty!” I tell her.

“Not as pretty as you,” Joy replies, smiling shyly.

“Are you kidding?” I exclaim. “You're a million times more beautiful than I am! Just look at your hair!”