PAPER STARS: An Ordinary Magic Story(10)

“Pretty sure, yes.” I stepped back from the six-foot tree that Myra and I had wrestled into the house a couple hours ago. It was not a prime example of its species.

It had missing branches down one side. Clumps of brown needles ringed the bottom third of the thing and shed at the slightest touch, like a porcupine had had an unfortunate run-in with a bottle of Nair.

The whole tree leaned precariously to the left. I’d tried to counter-weight it by adding an extra string of lights on the right, but that made the tree’s deficiencies stand out, like a neon sign with too many blown letters.

“Think that’s enough lights?”

Myra glanced up. Her black-lined eyes, page-boy bob, and bright lipstick gave her that sweet-but-tough rockabilly look. “If you put any more lights on that poor tree you’re going to blow a fuse.”

“The house has breakers, not fuses.”

At least I thought it did. Ryder and his dad had pretty much built this house on the lake just east of the main road that ran through town. Since Ryder was an architect, I didn’t think he’d live in a house that was still using fuses.

“And the tree isn’t poor. It’s…well, I’m not going to lie, it’s way past its sell date. Maybe I’ll just add one more string.”

“Step away from the twinkle lights, crazy woman,” Myra said without looking at me.

“It’s perfect. A couple dozen ornaments, some tinsel, and he’ll never know you installed it all at the last minute.”

I lifted my hair off the back of my neck, thought about binding it back in a ponytail, then decided it didn’t matter. “Okay, ornament me.” I held out my hand like a TV show doctor demanding a scalpel.

“You put a star on top,” Myra noted.

A shiny red five-pointed star crowned the tree. I shrugged.

“I didn’t think you liked stars on trees,” she said.

“Seemed like the right thing to do. A tradition.”

“Why did you even get a tree, Delaney?”

Myra walked over with the ornaments and nursed a fragile glass orb into my hand. “You haven’t gotten a tree for years.”

“It always seemed like a lot of work.” I placed the first bulb. I smiled. The glass orb glittered so prettily, it made me happy.

Then it hit me. This would be the first Christmas I’d ever spent with Ryder. This was the first ornament I’d ever hung on our tree.

Our tree. A warm hum thrilled beneath my skin. I had the sudden urge to put on a Santa hat. To make hot cocoa and stir it with a candy cane.

It was almost like I was starting to catch the Christmas spirit.

I blamed Jean.

“Delaney?”

“What?”

“Why the Christmas cactus?”

“You mean the tree?”

“That’s not much of a tree.”

“Mean.” I turned toward the tree. “Don’t listen to her. You’re beautiful.”

“Ugly-cute at best.”

“Just because you and Jean always pick such perfect trees doesn’t mean this one should go to waste. At least it doesn’t have tarantulas.”

Myra frowned. “Crow?”

“Crow.”

“And he’s not in Ordinary any more?”

“He said he had just stopped in to see me. He left town as soon as he sold me the tree.”

She shook her head and handed me another ornament. “So why now? Why do you want a tree this year?”

I didn’t say anything as I hung three more bulbs. That was a good question. I had a good answer, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to share it.

“It’s Ryder,” she supplied. “You’re doing this because of him, aren’t you?”

I could argue, but she’d know I was lying. I nodded.

“He told me that when he was little, he loved the lights on the Christmas tree. That it’s one of his favorite parts of the holidays. I didn’t want him to come home to a dark living room. And even if it’s only for a couple days, we—he—should have a tree. That’s not too ridiculous, is it?”

“No. That’s…” Her voice went soft. “That’s sweet. That’s good. That’s…love.”

Neither of us said anything, but the dragon by the fireplace snuffled loudly, then squeaked at Spud.

Spud had been crouched in front of the dragon, ears up, tail wagging. He now crept forward, belly-crawling toward the pig with a small stuffed frog in his mouth.

The dragon seemed to enjoy watching the ever-cheerful dog cautiously approach.

They’d been going at this since I’d driven the dragon around yesterday and it had finally just trotted into the house and straight to the fireplace, as if it were perfectly happy to live here.

At first Spud had barked. Then, after one deep rumble from the pig, which, yes, it is sort of startling to hear a pig roar, Spud had wagged his tail like it was going to propel him to the moon.

All of Spud’s running around and barking at the amused but unmoved dragon yesterday had turned into Spud sneakily offering to share his stuffed toy hoard with the pig today.

This, it appeared, might be a winning tactic.

The pig had already been gifted with a stuffed hamburger, a flounder, and a one-legged cow. It looked very, very pleased with its growing stash.