Read Online The House Without a Christmas Tree by Gail Rock - Free Book Online

there, even with you fussin’ around tryin’ to cover it up!”
    I opened my hand and looked at it again. “Isn’t it disgusting?”
    â€œI think it’s real pretty,” she said. “From Billy Wild?”
    â€œHow did you guess that?” I asked, more embarrassed than ever.
    â€œBecause I’m a smart old character!”
    â€œI’m never going to wear this disgusting thing again as long as I live!”
    â€œWhy not!”
    â€œIf I wear it again, he’ll really think I like him!”
    â€œGuess he likes you all right,” said Grandma.
    â€œHa!” I said derisively. “How do you know?”
    â€œWouldn’t give a heart locket to a person he didn’t like,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You like him a little too …”
    â€œI’ve told you a thousand times I despise him!” I said angrily. “I won’t even speak to him!”
    â€œMmmmmmm,” said Grandma.
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘Mmmmm’?”
    â€œSome people don’t speak much. Doesn’t mean they don’t feel anything.”
    I thought about that for a minute as I finished another row of gingerbread men. Finally the delicious aroma got the best of me, and I chose one to eat.
    â€œDoesn’t he look just like Billy Wild?” I asked Grandma, as I held the little man up in front of me.
    â€œYes,” she laughed, “I guess he does a bit.”
    â€œGood!” I said. “I’m going to bite his head off and chew him up!”
    â€œGlory, Addie!” she said, laughing.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?”
    â€œI pity the fella you really fall for some day,” she said. “He’ll be black and blue before he realizes that’s your way of likin’. Heavens! It’s all right to let on you like people, if you do!”
    I looked at her skeptically, then picked up the gingerbread man and bit his head off.
    We had almost finished decorating all the gingerbread men when I heard Dad’s truck in the driveway. Instead of coming in through the kitchen door as he usually did, he walked slowly around to the front door.
    â€œAddie, open the door!” he shouted, pounding on the door.
    I couldn’t imagine what was going on, and I ran into the living room and pulled the front door open. I couldn’t see Dad at all—the whole doorway was filled with a huge Christmas tree. He pushed it inside and shoved some boxes of ornaments toward me.
    â€œDon’t stand there,” he said, in his usual impatient manner. “Help me.”
    I was speechless.
    â€œCareful, now,” he said, as I took the boxes. “Those are breakable.”
    Grandma came into the room, and stopped, staring at the tree. “Oh, James!” she said softly.
    â€œIf we’re going to have a Christmas tree, we can buy it ourselves.”
    â€œIsn’t it beautiful!” said Grandma, coming over and putting her hand on my shoulder. I just stood there holding the boxes, frozen to the spot.
    Grandma took the boxes from me. “Oh, look, Addie. Decorations—silver icicles and lights!”
    Dad was setting up the tree at the end of the room, and I finally came out of my daze and looked down at the boxes I was holding.
    â€œIs there a star?” I asked.
    â€œOh, James,” said Grandma. “You forgot to get a star.”
    â€œThe one I made is still on the other tree,” I said.
    â€œMaybe you can make another one,” said Grandma.
    â€œI haven’t got any foil left,” I said.
    â€œMaybe Carla Mae has some,” Grandma suggested, “You can go over and ask her.”
    â€œShe won’t have to do that,” said Dad quietly. “Just wait a minute.” He went through the kitchen and downstairs into the basement, and came back with a dusty box. He handed it to me.
    I looked at him for a second and then sat down on his footstool and unwrapped the box. Inside was a