Bright Lights, Big Christmas(10)

“Twins, everyone said. It’ll be such fun! At forty! Whee!” She turned the stroller around and wheeled it briskly away.

Two hours passed without another sale. Murphy busied himself sweeping up fallen pine needles and sorting the Christmas trees by price. Finally, at eleven, he yawned widely. “I’m hitting the hay,” he told Kerry. “You can handle things, right?”

She looked around, feeling panicky. “Now? What if someone has questions, or wants a tree delivered, or…”

“Mondays are always slow. Business won’t pick up again till late afternoon. Handle it,” he said firmly. “I’ve been up since five, and I need some shut-eye. If you need something to do, you could string Granddad’s lights on the outside of Spammy. They’re in a bin in the bed of my truck.” He gestured at Queenie, who was sitting quietly on the folded-up utility blanket that served as her bed. “And she’ll need a walk in an hour or so.”

“Who’ll watch the stand?”

But Murphy had already retreated into the trailer.

Time dragged. Bored, Kerry fetched a plastic bin from the bed of her brother’s pickup truck. She sighed at the sight of the contents—a hopelessly snarled bundle of old-fashioned multicolored C9 Christmas tree lights.

With the aid of a roll of duct tape and a stepladder, she spent the next hour unsnarling and outlining the rounded contours of the travel trailer with the big-bulb lights, not stopping until she’d used all eleven strands. Finally, she stepped back, held her breath, and plugged the last strand into the extension cord’s power strip.

“It’s the miracle of the lights,” she told Queenie, who’d walked over to investigate Kerry’s handiwork. “Not a single burnt-out bulb!

“Okay, girl,” she agreed, when the dog gently prodded her hand with her snout. “I need to stretch my legs too.” She stretched bungee cords across both entrances to the stand, hung up the CLOSED sign, and clipped Queenie’s leash to her collar, tying a plastic bag to the leash.

They walked down the street, crossed at the light, and kept walking until she spotted a small enclosed dog park. Queenie efficiently took care of her business. The sun was out and Kerry was glad to have an excuse to explore the neighborhood.

On the way back, she stopped at the bodega across the street from the stand and got a cup of mediocre chicken noodle soup, then returned to the stand to eat her lunch.

People rushed past, barely glancing at the trees. Bored, Kerry went to the truck and fetched a steno pad and pencil she’d noticed tucked up under the passenger-side sun visor.

She began doodling on a blank page, doing a quick pencil study of Queenie, who, true to her name, always managed to look regal, even while resting on a dirty moving blanket on a grubby city street, with her head tucked daintily over her paws.

Kerry studied Queenie, noticing for the first time the heart-shaped patch of brown fur on her nose, and the long tufts of hair protruding from her eyebrows.

“Excuse me?”

She looked up.

The mom with the twins was back. “I think maybe Oskie dropped his binkie when we were here earlier.”

“Binkie?”

“His pacifier,” the woman said. “He won’t go to sleep without it…”

Kerry put down her sketch and walked twice around the booth. Finally, she saw a glint of silver protruding from beneath the base of one of the trees, reached down, and retrieved it.

Both twins had clambered out of the stroller while she searched, and they were both squatted down, lavishing head pats and neck scratches on Queenie, who seemed to be enjoying all the attention.

“Is this it?” Kerry asked, holding the pacifier by the silver ring attached to the rubber nipple.

“Oh, thank God,” the woman said.

“Mine!” Oscar reached for the binkie.

“Wait!” his mom said sharply. “We have to wash it first. It’s been in the dirt.”

Kerry grabbed a water bottle from beneath the card-table-turned-cash-stand, and handed it to the mom.

The mother quickly uncapped the bottle and poured water over the pacifier. “It’ll have to do,” she said under her breath, before handing the pacifier over to her son.

Oscar thrust the binkie into his mouth and sucked vigorously.

“I owe you one,” the woman said. “So, are you Murph’s girlfriend?”

“His sister,” Kerry said quickly. “You know my brother?”

“Oh, sure. We always buy our trees from Tolliver’s.” She stuck out her hand and Kerry shook it. “I’m Taryn Kaplan. We just live right down the block at number 110.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kerry said. “I currently live in that trailer with my brother, who snores like a grizzly bear.” She pointed at Spammy.

Taryn shot her a sympathetic smile. “And I’m betting Murphy didn’t tell you that we always leave a key for you guys so you can shower at our place while you’re in the city.”

Kerry’s eyes widened. “No. I’d kill for a hot shower right now.”

Taryn reached into the pocket of her jacket and held out a brass key ring. “We’re on the second floor, unit four. Ring the doorbell and I’ll buzz you up. Come over anytime.”

“That’s so nice of you,” Kerry said. She glanced over at the twins. Oscar was curled up next to Queenie on her blanket, eyes half closed, blissfully sucking away on his pacifier, while Elmo had climbed back into the stroller.