AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, did you figure it out before the big reveal? I tried to drop some hints, like the name Broward, and the reference to 'pig in a poke', which are both from the episode 'Mystery Spot'. How many clues did you all pick up on? Thanks for bearing with me through all of that, it was a lot of fun to come up with everything and put it together!
A couple of you have asked what Charlie looks like. I imagine that she has very blonde hair, like Mary in the show, and of course, Dean's green eyes. If you've ever seen photos of Jared Padalecki (AKA Sam) when he's a young boy, I think she kinda has his nose, but smaller. Then Tamilyn313 pointed me towards a model by the name of Laneya Grace. She's a teen now, but if you look at photos of her when she was a kid, I think she looks a lot like how I imagine Charlie to look, except with blonder hair. Look her up and tell me what you think!
Also...today marks the one year anniversary of me publishing Charlie's story, so "Happy Birthday" to her! I had wanted this chapter to be all about Christmas, but there was still too much to wrap up with the Trickster.
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Daddy...Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester was my Daddy...I was sure of it. I opened my eyes—I was laying in a bed, in a motel room. I rolled over.
Daddy and Uncle Sam were sitting at the table, looking at Uncle Sam's laptop, and Castiel stood between them, looking at the screen too.
I sat up, and called, "Daddy!" and then I jumped off the bed and ran over to him.
"Charlie!" Daddy put his beer bottle down and met me halfway across the room, picking me up in a fierce hug and squeezing me so tightly that I felt my back pop.
I had started to cry the moment he grabbed me, and I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his flannel.
He sat down, putting me on his lap, and Uncle Sam leaned over and stroked the back of my head. "Hey, Charlie," he said happily. He gave my shoulder a squeeze and then sat up.
"Oh, baby, I'm so glad to see you," Daddy murmured, kissing the side of my head. He looked down at me. "So, what happened to you?"
I leaned back and looked up at him. "What was all that, Daddy? What happened? It wasn't- I wasn't dreaming, 'cause it was real, an' I could feel everything. I mean, I looked at myself an' I had marks on my butt after I got punished by Doug-"
"You what?" Daddy's voice was hard.
Tears filled my eyes. "It was awful, Daddy," I said in a whisper, "My mommy was dead and I was living in a foster home with a bunch of kids, and nobody liked me, an' the foster parents were real mean and made us clean everything all the time...and then when you got in trouble, the foster father would hit us with stuff like a strap and a ruler...an' the social worker lady was looking for you, but she couldn't find you, she said that you were in databases with arrest warrants, and that I wouldn't be allowed to go with you..." I sobbed, "I wanted to find you, so bad, she was gonna put me up for adoption, an' I didn't want that...so I looked in the desk for my file, an' I saw your name, but then Doug, he caught me, an he—he hit me with this cane, an' it was awful, it hurt so bad...an' then he locked me in this little room..."
Daddy pulled me to him and held me as I cried harder for a couple of minutes.
"Now what the hell was the point of all that? Putting Charlie through that hell?" he asked in an angry voice.
"There is no rhyme or reason to what a Trickster does," Castiel said.
"It sounds almost like it was Charlie's version of Hell," Uncle Sam said, "It played directly on her fear of having to leave you, of not having a family."
"Then I was home with Mommy at Christmas, an' it was sad, 'cause she was too sick to do anything...it was like the last two years combined. But then it changed, and I was in the hospital with Mommy, and she- she d-died, and they kicked me out of the room. And then a janitor guy came in and talked to me, and then you showed up, Daddy, but I didn't know who you were," I looked up at him, "Why didn't I know?"
"Because the Trickster messed with your memories," Daddy explained, "He twisted both of our realities around, and I was in a couple different periods in time."
"Like when?" I asked.
"Well, I got to be with you when you were a baby...and then when you were two years old...and then when you were four."
"You did?" I was surprised, "but...you weren't there when I was any of those ages."
"I know, that's part of the twisted reality thing...it was real, but it wasn't. It was another reality, not the real reality. Does that make sense?"
I shook my head. "No."
"We each have our own reality," Uncle Sam said, "And there are some people who think that there are different realities going on alongside our own, that are slightly different than ours, that are caused by different little changes that happen in our lives. And somehow this Trickster was able to tap into that. Do you understand?"
I shook my head again. "No, I don't. Was that who that janitor was?" I looked over at Uncle Sam, "You- you stabbed him with a stick! And then he- he just melted into dust!"
Daddy said, "I'm sorry you had to be there for that, Charlie."
"It was scary...the whole thing was horrible, and I don't want that to happen ever again! What is a...a Trickster, and why'd he do that to us?"
"A Trickster is a creature that can bend reality and alter people's perceptions and memories. They don't have a reason they do the things they do, like Castiel said. They can be cruel in what they choose to make people go through, as we've seen with Charlie," Uncle Sam looked at me.
"He said he—he liked to watch people, and he'd been watching me."
"Did you notice anyone there who wasn't supposed to be there, or someone who was hanging around, off to the side? Like maybe a worker?" Daddy asked.
"Um, when I went to get ginger ale for Mommy, there was a man sweeping the street, even though it was Christmas day, and he talked to me. And then there was the janitor guy," I told him.
"That was him," Daddy said, "He appeared in almost all of my...realities, as a worker of some kind, although I didn't really notice it. He was riding a garbage truck one time, and he was a delivery guy one time. I think...remember when we were at the diner, and they were putting up the Christmas lights? And the man behind the counter asked you to pull his finger? I think- I think that was him, because everything changed right after that."
"Oh...you're right," I could barely remember what that man had looked like. "How...how did you finally know that it was different? Did you remember me like I am now?"
"I suddenly appeared in that reality where you were in the hospital, and I knew that I had to get to you, but I didn't know what was really going on," Daddy said.
"Castiel came to me and told me what had been happening, and he helped me get the stake to use on the Trickster," Uncle Sam chimed in, "I think the Trickster wanted to watch you with Dean, and Dean trying to convince you of who he was, but he didn't count on me being there and aware of what he was doing."
I shuddered, "What would've happened if Castiel wasn't there, would things just... kept going the way they were?"
"We cannot know that," Castiel said, "Tricksters are capricious, he may have just gotten bored eventually and walked away after returning things to the way they were. Or he may have made things get worse and worse, until-"
"Let's not go there," Daddy interrupted him.
"Are you hungry, Charlie?" Uncle Sam asked, "it's about time for dinner."
"I guess," I said, sliding off of Daddy's lap, "I hafta go to the bathroom."
Even though I was quick, I still felt nervous being alone in the bathroom. What if, when I opened the door, everything had changed again? What would I do then? My stomach started to twist in a knot with nervousness. I took a deep breath, and then yanked the door open. They all turned to look over at me. I ran into the room.
"I-I got scared, that something was going to change!" I blurted.
Daddy stood up. "Nothing's going to change again, Charlie. It's all right."
I looked around just then, realizing something. "Where's Grandpa John?"
"He's with...Uncle Bobby," Daddy said.
"Did he get that demon guy he was after?"
"He did, and we're going to go and meet up with him soon, okay?" Daddy told me. I wanted to ask more about the demon, but the look on Daddy's face stopped me. He didn't want to talk about it.
I started to get nervous when we drove to a diner. I looked around to see if there were any workmen in the building or see if anyone looked familiar. When the waitress came, I watched her carefully as she took our orders.
I held on to the edge of Daddy's jacket as we sat in the booth, and he looked down at me. "Charlie, what are you doing?" he asked.
"Well if...if something happens, we won't—we won't get separated if we're holding on to each other," I said.
"Charlie, it's okay," Daddy looked down at me.
"But—what if it's the waitress?" I worried.
"What if what's the waitress?" Uncle Sam asked.
"What if she's..." I lowered my voice, "a Trickster?" I whispered.
"The Trickster is gone, honey," Uncle Sam assured me, "and Castiel is with us, he'd be able to sense that a supernatural creature was around."
I looked across the table at Castiel. "You would?"
"Yes, I would, and there are none in the vicinity at this time," Castiel said confidently.
The waitress brought three cups of coffee, and set one in front of Castiel. He looked at Daddy. "I do not understand why humans choose to drink this hot bean water," he said.
"'Hot bean water'?" Daddy choked on a swallow of coffee and then wiped his mouth, chuckling.
"Yes, that is what it is, dried, ground up beans, with hot water poured over them," Castiel peered into the mug, "It does not look appetizing, or seem like it would taste good."
"It wakes you up in the morning, and it is good, when you add some milk and sugar," Uncle Sam said, ripping open some sugar packets.
"Or you could drink it black, like a real man," Daddy lifted his cup in a little salute and smirked at Uncle Sam.
"I prefer that my hot bean water have a little bit of taste," Uncle Sam retorted, and they both laughed.
Even though they had told me that nothing bad was going to happen, I still felt nervous. I could barely eat anything, and I felt on edge. When we went back to the motel, I made sure I was sitting right next to Daddy the whole time. I tensed up when he went to use the bathroom or walked across the room to get himself a beer.
After the cooking show we were watching ended, he turned to me. "Time for you to get ready for bed, kiddo," he said.
"I—I don't want to," I said, feeling my tummy fill with butterflies.
"Well, it's pretty late, and we're going to get on the road early tomorrow, so you need to go to bed," Daddy sipped his beer.
"But Daddy, can't I stay here with you? Please?" I held on to his arm.
He looked at me, frowning slightly. "Charlie, what's going on with you? Why are you acting like this?"
Tears came to my eyes. "Because...what if I wake up and everything's different again? What if I wake up and—and you're gone! What if I don't know you again?" I burst into tears and put my head down.
"Come here, baby," Daddy said gently, and then I felt him pulling me onto his lap. He put his arms around me. "That's not going to happen, all right? I promise. The Trickster is gone, and Castiel is with us, and nothing bad is going to happen."
"But- you said before that there were demons aware of me, an' Castiel said that that shapeshifter guy was working with demons...what if they come an' try to take me away?"
"They will not do that, Charlie, you are protected and warded with me here," Castiel told me.
Daddy looked over at Castiel. "You know, I didn't think I'd agree with you, but I think you might be right."
"Do you wish for me to remove her memories now?" Castiel came over to us.
"I think that might be a good idea," Daddy said.
I looked up at him, and then at Castiel. "What—what d'you mean? How can Castiel do that? How will he know which memories to remove? What if he takes the wrong ones?" I started to get off of Daddy's lap, and he held me by my arms.
"Charlie, it's okay, Castiel knows what he's doing. He'll only take away the memories of what happened with the Trickster, okay?"
"Will it hurt?" I squeaked fearfully.
"No, and I will wait until you are asleep," Castiel said.
"Daddy, I don't wanna go to sleep, I'm scared," tears came to my eyes again.
"All right, get ready for bed, and then I'll sit with you for a while, okay?" Daddy patted my leg.
I sighed, and got up, and did my night-time routine. Uncle Sam came over and gave me a hug and a kiss, and then Daddy sat on the bed next to me. I curled up in his lap and he put his arms around me.
"What was it like when you were in your other reality?" I asked quietly, "When I was little?"
"It was...different than I expected," Daddy said, "I had thought it would just be full of nice little moments, but there were times that it was kinda stressful."
I looked up at him. "How come?"
"Well...you were pretty...spunky, and your mom...she didn't really do much by way of making you do anything."
"I was bad?" I felt embarrassed.
"No, you weren't bad, you were just...a typical little kid, trying to get what she wants. But it's the parent's job to teach the kid how to behave, and to do the right thing, and your Mom...wasn't very good at that," he chuckled, "I was the one who ended up laying down the law with you and making rules and all...and you told me I was a mean Daddy at one point, and that you didn't like me."
"Were you mean to me?"
"No, I was just enforcing the rules and making sure you stayed safe, and you didn't like that. You could unbuckle your car seat straps and get out when you were four, and as you know, that's dangerous. So I ended up spanking you for it."
I felt embarassed again. "Oh."
Daddy hugged me tightly. "It was still good...I got to experience what it was like when you were little, and you were a real cutie, and very sweet with me," he shifted me, and began to card his hand through my hair, the way he had done before when I had a headache. It relaxed me, and I started to fall asleep.
I felt someone moving me, laying me down in bed, and then heard a gravelly voice, "I will remove her memories now...it may make her sleep longer than usual."
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Daddy parked the car at the curb, and turned the engine off. Grandpa John's truck was parked in the driveway.
"Well, here we are," Daddy turned to Uncle Sam, and then glanced back at me, "Ready to go in?"
I felt nervous, but also excited. "Yeah, I can't wait!"
Grandpa John had found a house for us to live in, near where Uncle Bobby lived. Today was the day we were moving in.
I got out of the car and followed Daddy and Uncle Sam up the sidewalk. The house was a two-story with yellow siding and a wooden front porch.
The front door opened as we walked up the steps, and Grandpa John let us into the house. Uncle Bobby stood behind him.
"Hey, darlin', it's so good to see you again!" Grandpa John leaned down and hugged me, lifting me off the ground for a moment. I hugged him around his neck, and he dropped a kiss on top of my head as he set me down.
"How's the rugrat doin'?" Uncle Bobby ruffled my hair and smiled at me.
"I'm okay...glad to be out of the car!"
They all laughed at that.
"They boys grew up in that car, so they were used to long car rides," Grandpa John said, "Well, let's go on a house tour!"
We were standing in the living room, which already had furniture in it. It was a long rectangular room, and the other end was a dining room with a big round table and chairs. Next to that was the kitchen, and then a short hallway that led to a small room that opened out to a patio in the back yard, and a small room that had a washer and dryer in it.
"Wow, we've got our own washer and dryer again," Daddy said.
"I've never had one, that's cool!" I said, opening the dryer and looking in.
We walked back out to the living room. There was another short hallway off to the left that went to a bathroom and a small room full of pieces of furniture which Grandpa John could be used as a study or a guest room. At the end of the hallway was another door, that opened up into a set of two rooms- a bed room and a small living room.
"This is called an in-law suite," Grandpa John said, "I'll take this, and you can have the master bedroom upstairs, Dean."
Daddy looked at Grandpa John. "Are you sure, Dad? I mean, you're, you know, the patriarch and all..."
"Yeah, but you're the head of your family, with Charlie, so you should get the master. I'm fine with this," Grandpa John said with a smile.
We walked back to the stairs and walked up the the second floor.
At the top of the stairs was another hallway. There was a bedroom to the left, and then there was a bathroom to the right and a door that Grandpa John said was a linen closet. Across from the bathroom, at the front of the house, was another bedroom, and then next to that, at the other end of the hall, was a huge bedroom with its own bathroom.
"What do you think, Sam, you take the room at the end, and Charlie will be in-between us?" Daddy asked.
"Sure, that sounds good," Uncle Sam said.
"So, I get the room across from the bathroom?" I asked.
"Yep, that one's all yours!" Daddy grinned at me. I ran back to the room. It had two windows in it, with a twin bed that had a wooden headboard and footboard with carved flowers on it. There was a long, low bureau that matched the bedframe, and had a big mirror attached to it, and a tall bookshelf on the other wall.
"This is great!" I turned around, "it's so big!"
"It's going to be interesting," Uncle Sam said, "We grew up either in motel rooms, or in tiny houses where Dean and I had to share a room. We've never had our own rooms before."
I looked at him. "It's so fun, you can decorate it any way you want to!" I told him, and everyone laughed.
"There are bed linens in the closet, but we'll need to supply our own towels. If Charlie wants anything like new curtains we'll have to get those too. There are some pots and pans and a few dishes in the cabinets downstairs, but we'll need to get some more of those, too," Grandpa John said.
"I don't really care about having a matched set of dishes," Daddy shrugged.
We went downstairs to look in the kitchen, and sure enough, there was only one frying pan, a small pot, and a larger pot that could be used for things like spaghetti. There were only three plates, two bowls, and a small collection of silverware, plus an assortment of mugs and plastic cups.
"Well ya know, I brought some things over from my house," Uncle Bobby said gruffly, "I got a lot of dishes and whatnot that're just sittin' around collectin' dust, figured you all might as well put 'em to use."
"How come you don't use them?" I asked him.
"They're from my wife's family, and I ain't never gonna use 'em. I'm an old bachelor, I use the same couple of dishes over and over," Uncle Bobby said.
Grandpa John was giving Uncle Bobby a serious look. "Are you sure about that?" he asked quietly.
Uncle Bobby shrugged. "Sure I'm sure, I think Karen would want someone to use 'em, and she'd be happy knowin' that a family with a kid was gettin' good use from them."
Daddy was looking at Uncle Bobby in the same serious way. "Well, if you're sure," he said slowly, "Thank you, Bobby, that means a hell of a lot."
Grandpa John and Uncle Bobby walked out to his truck and brought in a couple of cardboard boxes.
"This here's pots 'n pans, this one's got the dishes, and this one's got a bunch of kitchen odds 'n ends," Uncle Bobby put a hand on each box, "Includin' a set of cookie cutters. I ain't never used 'em, and with the holidays comin' up I figured you all could use 'em to make cookies. But ya better bake me a batch or two," he grinned at me.
I opened the box, and pulled out a tin that was marked, "Cookie Cutters" in neat hand-writing. It had a set of metal holiday cookie cutters, a candy cane, a reindeer, a stocking, a tree, a snowflake, a star, and an angel. "This is so cool, thanks!" I hugged Uncle Bobby, "I loved making cookies at Christmas!"
"That's something that we've never done, so you'll have to show us how, Charlie," Uncle Sam said.
"Thank you so much, Bobby," Grandpa John said, and the men hugged for a moment. They all seemed to get teary-eyed, and then Daddy cleared his throat and said, "How about we order some pizza?"
Uncle Bobby left after we ate, and Daddy brought in our duffles with our clothes, and my other bags. I spent some time in my room putting clothes in the bureau, and then I unpacked my bag with all my figurines and lined them up on a couple of the shelves.
Uncle Bobby had brought a box with the toys and books that I had left at his house, so I got those out and put them on the shelf too.
Daddy came to the door with bedding in his hands. "We should make your bed up, it's about time for you to get ready for bed," he told me.
"Okay," I said, getting up from where I was sitting in front of the shelf. He came over to the bed and set the sheets down, and turned to look at the shelf. "That looks good," he said.
"Thanks!" I unfolded the fitted sheet and started to put it on the bed.
"Let me help you," Daddy grabbed the far end and started to tuck it under.
"I can do it myself, I used to have to make Mommy's bed up after she threw up," I told him.
"Oh," he got a funny look on his face.
"But you can help me," I smiled at him, realizing that it was nice to have someone help me. There had been some days when I had had to make her bed two or three times, and go up and down the stairs of the apartment building dragging the sheets to the laundry room.
Daddy helped me with the flat sheet, and then he laid a blanket out. "I forgot to get your Hello Kitty blanket and pillows out of the car, you definitely need those," he said with a smile.
I went to do my night-time routine in the bathroom, and Daddy went downstairs to get my stuff out of the car. I walked downstairs to find everyone when I was done. Uncle Sam was loading the dishwasher, and Grandpa John was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, making a list.
"What are you doing?" I asked, leaning on his arm.
"I'm making a grocery list for tomorrow, and a list of other things we'll need," he told me. "Is there anything in particular you want from the store, for breakfast and lunch?"
"Can you get some Pop Tarts and Lucky Charms?" I asked.
Uncle Sam gave me a look. "Pop Tarts? That's not a healthy breakfast, that's junk food."
"Well, as long as she eats something else that's healthy along with it, shouldn't that be all right?" Grandpa John turned to look at Uncle Sam.
"I guess...but I don't want her eating things like Pop Tarts all the time," Uncle Sam said.
Daddy came to the door. "You ready for bed, Charlie?"
"Yeah," I said. I followed him upstairs, and realized that Uncle Sam and Grandpa John were following me.
"What're you guys doing?" I asked as they came into my bedroom.
"We want to tuck you in, it's your first night in a real house, with all of us here," Uncle Sam explained. He and Daddy spread my Hello Kitty blanket out, and Daddy set the pillows at the head of the bed, along with MaryBear and my stuffed Hello Kitty. "Charlie, how do you feel about elephants?" he asked me.
"Um, they're okay," I replied, "Why?"
"Oh...no reason."
Grandpa John was looking at my shelves. "You've already settled yourself in," he smiled at me.
I got into bed, and he walked over and leaned down to give me a hug and a kiss. Uncle Sam was next, and they both said good night, and then left. Daddy sat down on the edge of the bed.
"I'm kinda excited about this," Daddy said, "This is a new chapter in our lives."
"Yeah, it is," I smiled at him.
"We'll need to talk about what we're going to do about your schooling."
I felt nervous. "Uh...school?"
"You might want to go to school, eventually, right?"
"Um, no, not really," I said hesitantly.
Daddy laughed. "Why not?"
"School was boring, I always finished my work first and had to either sit around and wait for the rest of the class, or read a book, or help everyone else. That was kinda fun sometimes, but mostly I got bored."
"Hmm...well, we can see if we can find a school that's not boring, okay? For now, you and Uncle Sam can get back into the swing of things with your home-schooling," Daddy leaned over and hugged me, "I love you, Charlie, and I'm so glad that we're together."
I hugged him back. "Me too, Daddy, I love you," I laid down, and he pulled the covers up. He leaned down and kissed me and then stood up to leave the room.
"Daddy, can you leave the door open? And the hallway light on? It's dark in here, and I'm a little—scared."
"Would you like to get a night-light?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"That's no problem, we can go out tomorrow and get one for you. Good night."
"Good night." I said.
I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn't relax. I kept hearing noises, and seeing shadows on the walls. I felt very alone, knowing that they were all downstairs, and that made me start to feel nervous.
I got out of bed and walked downstairs. They were all in the living room, with the t.v on.
"What's up, Charlie?" Daddy asked.
"I'm...nervous, I can't sleep," I admitted, "There's too many weird sounds and stuff."
"It's okay, Charlie, you're safe," Daddy said, sipping his beer.
"But I'm not used to it, and I...I don't like it."
"Well, it's going to take time to get used to it. You weren't even in bed for 10 minutes."
I shuffled my feet and stared at the floor.
"Dean, why don't you go upstairs with her and stay with her until she falls asleep," Grandpa John said, "You know how un-nerving a new place can be for a kid."
Daddy stood up and gave Uncle Sam a look. "This, from the guy who used to tell us that the only night-light we should need is the stars in the sky? Come on, kiddo."
I followed him upstairs and got back into bed, and he sat down next to me.
"Were you scared whenever you were in a new motel room or house?" I asked him.
"No, not really, Sam was more nervous about it than I was, because he was younger. We'd share a bed a lot of the time, too, so that helped us not feel scared," he patted my shoulder, "Roll over, and I'll rub your back."
I rolled onto my tummy, and he started to rub my back, slow, even strokes, up and down, and I felt myself drifting off to sleep.
The next couple of days were busy with shopping trips to different stores. Daddy bought a night-light and a small lamp for my room, and little lights to put in all the hallways. They bought towels, some small rugs, a microwave, and lots of food. Uncle Sam moved a little table into the corner of the dining room for my home-schooling stuff, and he set me up there with my tablet and a bunch of supplies. He said we had to do work every day, and that he wanted me to "buckle down" and really work on my handwriting too. By the end of the week, Daddy had gotten a job at a local garage, as a mechanic. I was happy for him, but also a little sad, because it meant that I wouldn't see him as much.
At breakfast on Saturday morning, Uncle Sam said, "I think we should talk about scheduling and chores."
Daddy gave Uncle Sam a look. "What is it with you and schedules, man?"
"Well, I think it's important to have a schedule for a kid, and it will help Charlie develop a sense of responsibility," Uncle Sam said.
"You boys had to do chores, and you had a training schedule," Grandpa John sipped his coffee.
"Yeah, and I remember a certain little brother always complaining about everything," Daddy retorted, "and we're not training Charlie for anything."
"No-one said anything about training, Dean," Grandpa John said, "But kids do need rules and schedules to help them feel safe. We've talked abut that before. And Charlie's old enough that she can do some chores."
"I know that, I just thought...she had a lot of responsibility with her mom, you know, and it would be nice if she had a break."
"She's had a break, for quite some time," Uncle Sam said, "and now that we're living in a house, I think we should get things back on track. And you know, we always had a schedule of things like doing laundry and cleaning the weapons on certain days."
"Can I help clean the weapons?" I asked.
"No," all three of them said at the same time, and I frowned.
"All right, fine, we should make a schedule of things like laundry day and all that," Daddy agreed, "but the rest of it? I don't know."
"Well, this house isn't going to clean itself," Uncle Sam retorted, "The rugs will need to be vacuumed and the sinks cleaned and all that."
Daddy sighed, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Let's talk about it later, and just enjoy the weekend."
"Can we got out and get a Christmas tree?" I asked.
Daddy looked over at Uncle Sam and Grandpa John. "Sure, I guess," he said slowly. He seemed a little uncomfortable.
"What's wrong?" I asked him.
"Nothing...tell us about what you did with your mom, at Christmas time."
"We would make lots and lots of cookies, and put them in little gift bags, and give them to the neighbors in our building. And then we'd make a bunch for Mommy to take to work. Her work always had a big Christmas dinner at a fancy restaurant too, that people could bring their families to. And we'd decorate the tree and put up lights in our windows, and Mommy had a bunch of other decorations she's put out, like a little sled that had pinecones and stuff in it, and some snowman figurines. Then we'd go to Aunt Janice's neighborhood and drive around looking at Christmas lights. There was one street where lots of people put up lots and lots of lights and displays, and people would come from all over to look at everything."
"That sounds like a good start," Uncle Sam said. "Should we go out today and buy the tree and the decorations?"
"We need to get all the stuff to put on the tree first, the ornaments and garland and all!"
"Oh, right," Daddy said.
"Before we leave, I want you to do some writing practice, Charlie," Uncle Sam told me.
"What? But- it's Saturday, kids don't have school on the weekend!" I protested.
"I don't really count it as school-work, it's more an exercise thing." Uncle Sam stood up and took his dish to the sink.
I folded my arms across my chest. "I don't wanna do it!"
"You had to do your exercises every day before, remember? And your writing and hand strength has really fallen behind. I want you to get back to where you were before...everything happened."
"It's not faaaaiir!" I whined, looking at Daddy.
"Don't give me puppy-dog eyes, Uncle Sam is right," Daddy lifted his mug to his lips and took a drink.
"Go get started, and the sooner you get finished, the sooner we can go," Uncle Sam said.
"Fine!" I huffed, standing up and shoving my chair back. I started to walk out of the room, and Daddy caught my arm. "Put your plate in the sink. And lose the attitude."
I glared at him, but I walked back and grabbed my plate, and walked over to the sink. I was about to toss it in, and Uncle Sam caught my eye. "Don't," he said warningly. He took my plate and fork from me, and I sighed. I didn't want to do this!
I sat down at my table in the corner, and opened the notebook that Uncle Sam had made me for writing practice.
"What should I write?" I called to him.
Uncle Sam came to the door. "Write the paragraph that you wrote out yesterday."
"But I'll have to keep turning the page back to look at it!" I complained.
Uncle Sam gave me a look. "How about lines, then, 'I will stop complaining and giving attitude', 50 times."
I huffed at him, and turned to my notebook. I quickly scrawled the paragraph out, listening to them chatting as the finished their coffee. It wasn't fair that I had to do work and they didn't!
I slammed the notebook closed and got up, intending to go upstairs and get dressed.
Uncle Sam came to the door of the kitchen. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"I'm done, I'm gonna get dressed," I said quickly.
"Wait," he said in a deeper voice. He walked over to the desk and opened my notebook, paging through it until he found my work. He turned to me, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. "Get over here," he ground out.
I felt a pang in my tummy as I walked back over to him. "You know better than this, young lady," he said sternly, tapping the page, "Tomorrow, you're going to write me two paragraphs, and they'd better be your best handwriting. You pull this again, and you're going to be in trouble. Is that clear?"
I glanced up at him. "Uh, yes, Uncle Sam," I said quietly.
"Go get dressed," he said.
I turned to go, and Daddy was standing in the doorway, watching us. He frowned at me. "You'd better shape up, Charlie," he called as I walked past him. I gulped, and resolved to start behaving. I didn't want to be in trouble with both of them!
"Do we really need all those ornaments?" Daddy asked with amusement in his voice. I had put three boxes of glass balls in our shopping cart, a box of shiny metal stars, a package with white sparkly snowflakes, and I was holding a box with little angel ornaments.
"We should make little rain coats to put on these angels!" I said with a grin.
Daddy chuckled. "I think we're probably the only people in the world with an angel tht wears a trench coat," he said quietly, "Go ahead and put them in the cart."
"We also need candy canes. And garland. And stockings. For all of us!" I told him.
"All of us?"
"Yeah, all of us need a stocking!"
"What do adults get in their Christmas stocking?" Uncle Sam asked, bringing over a stack of boxed light strands.
"Little bottles of booze, hopefully," Daddy chuckled again.
"Everyone gets lots and lots of candy!" I said. "C'mon, let's go look at stockings!" I pulled on Daddy's hand. Uncle Sam pushed the cart, and Grandpa John walked behind us.
"What kind do you want, Daddy?" I asked him.
"You pick what you want for each of us," Daddy said. I walked up and down the aisle looking at everything, and then I picked a green stocking that was decorated with red ribbons and tassels for Daddy, and a stocking that was opposite for Uncle Sam- red, but decorated with green ribbons and tassels. I picked out a red and green plaid stocking for Grandpa John, and then saw a Hello Kitty stocking at the very end of the aisle. I held it up to show them. "I gotta get this for me!" I said with a grin, and they all laughed.
Our next stop was to buy a tree, and we drove to a local farm and bought a real tree from them. Daddy and Uncle Sam helped Grandpa John tied it into the back of his truck, and then we drove home. Daddy said that we had to wait for the branches to open for a couple of days before we could decorate it. Instead he and Grandpa John found a ladder in the shed that was in the back yard, and went onto the roof to put up Christmas lights on the front of the house. Uncle Sam and I strung garland on the banister going upstairs and then hung our stockings from it. The living room and dining room started to smell like the Christmas tree, and it was a good smell. It made me excited for what was coming up.