Free Winter Sky by Patricia Reilly Giff Page B

remembered the almost-real family she and Laila wanted. She had hoped for a dog then, one she could carry in her backpack. But Major was the one she wanted!
    Mimi was still talking. “This dog has helped Siria grow up. She’s bathed him, fed him, walked him …”
    Rescued him
.
    Siria must have said it aloud.
    Pop squeezed her shoulder. “Tell me.”
    She tried to steady her mouth. “He was all alone,” she said. “It’s so hard to be alone.”
    Pop took her hand. “I know.”
    “He had no one to feed him, or take care of him.… ” She broke off. “Oh, Pop. I love this dog. I’ve named him Major.”
    Pop was silent for a moment. “You’re named after Canis Major. Your mom loved seeing that constellation every winter. And your star is in his collar.”
    “Joe, please,” Izzy said to Pop.
    “She needs …,” Mimi began again.
    Pop still didn’t say anything.
    “Besides,” Mimi said. “I knitted him a gold collar to match Siria’s Christmas gloves. I stayed up last night to do it.”
    Pop put his arms out and Siria leaned into them.
    “Because I was in the hospital I couldn’t buy you something new,” he said. “But I do have a gift for you, a charm bracelet Mom wore all the time.”
    Siria had seen the bracelet in a box on his dresser. She loved those charms: a flower, a firefighter’s shield, a baby …
    “Suppose,” Pop said, “we go down to Anton’s Jewelry next week. We’ll buy a dog charm, since Major’s going to be yours.”
    Hers!
    Major seemed to know. He sank down at her feet and slept while they opened the rest of their presents.

CHAPTER 19
    The morning after Christmas, Siria stood at her bedroom window, holding the bracelet. It had circled Mom’s wrist long ago. Mom had touched those small charms, just as Siria did now. And next week there’d be a new charm.
    She left the apartment, carrying the little round bowl with its blue-purple fighting fish looking out at the world. Down the steps, carefully, water sloshing. She pressed Laila’s bell with her elbow.
    Laila opened the door, threw her arms around Siria, and pulled her inside. “Beautiful! I’ll name her …”
    She stared into the bowl, her eyes large behind her glasses. “I’ll name her for you: Sister.”
    They both laughed. “I think it’s a male,” Siria said.
    “All right. Brother.” Laila sighed. “The dog,” she said then. “Is he yours now?”
    Siria nodded. “The one that wandered around. All cleaned up now.”
    Laila handed her a package. Siria could feel it was a book. “Perfect,” she said as she tore off the paper: a book that showed the constellations. “I love it.”
    She leaned forward. “I found out. Douglas didn’t set those fires.”
    “I’m so glad,” Laila said. “We have our brother back for our pretend family.”
    If only …
    Siria went back upstairs, thinking about the last present she had to give. She’d seen it in Max’s Art Supply Store when she’d bought the painting for Izzy: a model of the
Monitor
, a Civil War ship, ready to put together.
    She left Major in her bedroom and went downstairs quickly. She left the package in front of Douglas’s door.
    He’d know it was from her.
    Then she huddled on the fire escape, sitting on her quilt, watching a few flakes of snow drift down, and heard the clang of work boots against the iron steps as Douglas came up toward her.
    At first he didn’t say anything, and she knew that if she tried to speak, she’d start to cry.
    “Your present,” he said then. “The
Monitor
. Is that what we’ve been having? A war?”
    “Someone’s been setting fires. Wearing your jacket. And I heard Kevin talking about your kitchen.” She shook her head. “Your hands all blistered …”
    He leaned against the brick wall, shaking his head.
    “I should have known you wouldn’t do something like that.”
    “Begin again,” he said. “The whole thing.”
    She spoke as slowly as Laila would have. The shed. The movie theater. The creek.