with Daisy and the puppy snuggles in her arms. She takes Daisy to her room, away from the other kids. She doesn’t want to share Daisy just yet. She sits on her bed.
“You’re the best present ever,” Olivia tells Daisy. “I will always take care of you just like Mommy and Daddy take care of me.”
Elizabeth is listening outside Olivia’s room. She smiles and walks in.
“Ready to join everyone else?”
“Do I have to share Daisy?”
“Well, it would be nice to let the other kids hold her. Just for a little.”
Olivia’s shoulders drop and she sighs. “OK. If I have to.”
I begged Grandma for a puppy but the closest I ever got was a toy one that, with the help of a battery pack, walked, sat, flipped over and barked. We found it at a yard sale and the lady put batteries in it to show us it still worked.
“You know we can’t have any pets in the apartment,” Grandma said.
“Why do we have to live in a stupid apartment anyway?” I shot back.
“Because it’s what I can afford.”
“Well, I’m tired of being poor. Everyone else has a puppy but me.”
“Not everyone,” Grandma said.
“Almost everyone. Rachel does. And some kids at school got them for Christmas.”
“Sorry,” Grandma said. “Even if we could have one in the apartment, I’d never have the money to spend on keeping a dog. They cost money. Just like humans, they got to go to the doctor’s when they get sick and for checkups and shots. Plus, you got to buy them food. Just too much money.”
I marched to my bedroom and slammed my door. I was a brat and Grandma deserved better.
The kids gather around Olivia and Daisy, and Olivia gives each one a turn holding the puppy. Grandma Cindy is talking to Elizabeth. They are standing nearby so I can hear them.
“One of my Angel gifts didn’t have one toy listed,” Grandma Cindy says. “It was all essential stuff, like underwear and socks and mittens. But I just had to add a toy or two. Every kid should have at least one toy to open Christmas morning.”
“Olivia loved going shopping for her Angel gifts,” Elizabeth says. “Tom brought home two from work. One was a little boy, eight, and the other a little girl, six.”
I smiled. It was fun to watch Olivia pick out gifts for other children, and I couldn’t help remember that I had been on the receiving end of such generosity growing up. When I got older, Grandma insisted that we give back. So, we participated in the Salvation Army’s Red Kettle Christmas Campaign. Grandma would sit next to the tripod holding the red kettle and I would ring the bell, hoping people would make a donation. My cheeks always hurt from smiling so much. People always seemed more willing to give around Christmas, I thought. Inever understood why that feeling couldn’t last the whole year.
Chapter 15
Olivia sees Elizabeth and Tom pull into the driveway. They are returning from a parent-teacher conference with Olivia’s fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Beshore.
It’s the first time I notice how Olivia’s left eye and thumb twitch when she’s nervous or stressed.
Olivia greets them at the door. “Did she say anything bad?”
She steps to the side so her parents can walk into the house.
“She said you’re an excellent student but there is one thing you need to work on,” Tom says.
Olivia follows her parents into the living room where Grandma Cindy is knitting Olivia another scarf. Olivia sits on the chair and her mom and dad sit on the sofa facing her.
Elizabeth starts. “You’re way ahead in reading and writing and where you’re supposed to be in math. But, you talk too much.”
Olivia knew she was going to get in trouble for her talking. Just that day, Mrs. Beshore made her spend her recess writing, “I will not talk in class.”
“But I have so much talking to do and there’s never enough time to do it.”
“Listen, Libby,” Tom says. “We’re glad that you’re outgoing and sociable and everyone’s friend. But when the teacher
Jean-Pierre Alaux, Noël Balen