threw the burned slices of bread in the garbage and put four more in the toaster. Stupid smoke alarm wasn’t stopping her.
“You have to know when to push up the lever,” Emma told her. “Daddy knew.”
Next trip to town Lacey was buying a new toaster. She was tired of fooling with this relic. While she watched the bread, she slipped her sneaker back on. Just as the slices were starting to burn, she pushed up the lever, and then buttered the toast, added grape jelly and placed it on the plate with the scrambled eggs.
“Breakfast,” she said, sliding it in front of Emma with a smile.
Emma rolled her eyes. “Now we don’t have a smoke alarm.”
“I’ll get the ladder and put it back after breakfast. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Emma ate her breakfast and Lacey munched on a piece of toast. Nothing like starting the day with a little excitement. She hoped Gabe hadn’t heard the alarm. She had a feeling he didn’t hear much of anything besides the demons in his head.
Brushing hair from her face, Emma asked, “Are you mad at me?”
Lacey knew Emma was talking about last night. “You disobeyed me.”
Emma swallowed a mouthful of egg. “Mr. Gabe doesn’t mean it when he says for me not to come into his yard.”
“Emma, sweetie, yes, he does.”
“But I hear Pepper and I have to go.”
Lacey sighed. “Pepper is not our dog, and we have to respect Mr. Gabe’s privacy. Do you understand that?”
Emma shook her head.
Lacey was all out of options. She’d just have to watch Emma more closely. She clapped her hands to brighten the moment. “Today we get the Christmas tree. Daddy always got it the Saturday after Thanksgiving.”
“There’s no Santa Claus, Lacey!” Emma shouted. “We don’t need a Christmas tree!”
“Well, I still believe in Christmas, and I’m putting up a tree right in front of the windows in the living room.”
“I’m not looking at it.” Emma jumped off the bar stool.
“You don’t have to.” It broke Lacey’s heart that Emma was being so adamant about this. Maybe if she kept pushing, Emma would start to believe again. There was no Christmas without the magic of belief. Somehow, Lacey had to find a way to put a little more of that good stuff in their lives. “Go get dressed while I put our dishes in the dishwasher.”
Lacey managed to reattach the smoke alarm. The green light came on, so she felt sure it was working and ready for the next round.
* * *
THE CHRISTMAS TREE lot was off the square in Horseshoe. People were out and about searching for the perfect tree.
“I’m not looking,” Emma told her.
Lacey didn’t say anything. She got out of the car and walked around, inspecting the trees. Soon Emma was right beside her. It was taking a while, but Lacey was learning parenting tricks.
She picked out a seven-foot Douglas fir and had the man put a stand on it. Then he tied it on to the top of her SUV.
While they were waiting, a little girl came over and said something to Emma. To Lacey’s shock, Emma frowned and kicked at her with her sneaker. The little girl ran back to her father, who was measuring a tree.
This wasn’t the place to discipline Emma. She’d wait until they got home. Lacey didn’t know if she had the strength or the capabilities to continue to deal with this kind of behavior. But she would keep trying.
As they pulled into their driveway, Lacey saw Gabe in his front yard digging up a shrub that had died. The black knit cap he wore on his head gave him a dangerous, fierce look. He didn’t even raise his head as they got out. He just kept digging.
Before Lacey could stop her, Emma darted over to Gabe. Lacey wanted to pull out her hair. This was turning out to be the worst day ever. She ran behind Emma and caught her just before she reached the man.
“Whatcha doing?” Emma asked.
Lacey took her hand and led her back toward their house without saying a word to the man who was glaring at them.
“You disobeyed me again. Go into the house and sit on the sofa until I get there. And do not turn on the TV. Do you understand me?”
Emma nodded and stomped toward the front door. Lacey unlocked it and Emma went inside. First, Lacey had to get the tree off the SUV, and then she would deal with her sister.
She grabbed a pair of scissors and the kitchen stool. She cut the strings off the tree and tried to lift it from the SUV, but soon found she couldn’t. The stool gave her some height, but not enough for her to hoist the heavy tree. The branches scratched her face and she said a cuss word under her breath. How was she going to get the tree off the car?
* * *
GABE KEPT DIGGING, trying to ignore the crazy lady on the rickety kitchen stool. She was going to fall and break her neck, but it was none of his concern. She stood on tiptoes and tried to heave it off, but to no avail. The woman was a menace. Her smoke alarm went off regularly. He’d heard it that morning. Evidently, she couldn’t cook. The stool wobbled and she grabbed the car to keep from falling.
Do not help. Do not help.
The warning in his head was clear, and he always obeyed it because he didn’t want to interact with anyone. But even he had a breaking point. He propped the shovel against the house and walked over.
With one gloved hand he gripped the tree trunk and lifted it from the SUV.
“Oh...oh...” she stammered, almost falling off the stool again.
“Where do you want this?” he snapped.
“Uh...” She climbed off the stool and headed for the front door. “In here.”
Inside the house she pointed to the living room windows. He placed the tree in the spot.
“Hi, Mr. Gabe,” the little girl said from the sofa.
He didn’t want to engage in conversation, so he left. On his way back to his house, he cursed himself. He didn’t want to get involved, and helping the crazy lady was a sure way for that to happen. He was trying desperately to keep his privacy, and he’d probably just made a big mistake.
That suffocating feeling came over him, and he went into the house to check on Pepper. She was better this morning and had even trotted outside to do her business. The shots always helped for a while. How he wished they could last longer. Soon he’d have to make a decision, and it was tearing him up inside. He just couldn’t let go.
He wasn’t sure what he was afraid of. The vet had said it was the best thing for the dog, but how could killing something be good? If he did what the vet had suggested, it would be like letting go of Zack all over again.
Some
