The House Without a Christmas Tree Read Free Page B

surprised.
    â€œHe was teaching me how to write a check, and he had all his papers out, and I saw the balance in his bankbook.”
    â€œYou shouldn’t be so nosy about other people’s business.”
    â€œWell, I’d have to be blindfolded not to see it!” I said. “You know, the other kids think it’s pretty peculiar.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThat we never have a Christmas tree in this house!”
    â€œJust say we’re going to Uncle Will’s and sharing his tree.”
    â€œThat sounds so dumb.”
    â€œYou don’t need to give a fig what others think,” she said. “Now, let’s see how this looks.”
    I twirled around on the chair. “How do you know angels dressed like this?” I asked.
    â€œTells in the Bible,” Grandma said. “If you paid attention in Sunday School, you’d know too.”
    â€œIt doesn’t say they wore old bed sheets!” I said, twirling around some more.
    â€œStop fidgeting!” she said.
    â€œI bet angels wore robes of pure silk!”
    â€œAddie, will you stand still!”
    â€œDo you think Dad might do it this year? Might buy me a tree?”
    â€œOh, yo!” she said, wearily. “I wouldn’t nag him about it.”
    â€œI don’t nag. He never listens to me! I have to ask him everything a million times!” I said. “He doesn’t care anything about me. He never pays any attention to me …”
    Grandma looked at me disapprovingly. “He buys your food and clothes, don’t he? Pays the doctor bills … all the bills in this house.”
    â€œBut he doesn’t talk to me!” I said, trying to make her understand. “I’m a person too, you know. I like to be talked to.”
    Grandma went on working on the hem, and I could tell she was hoping I’d give up the idea.
    â€œYou said Dad always bought my mother a tree. How come he wasn’t stingy with her?”
    â€œIt was different then,” she said quietly. “They always spent Christmas Day at home. Now we go to Uncle Will’s.”
    â€œDo you think he might do it this year, though?”
    â€œWell,” Grandma sighed. “I s’pose there’s no harm in asking.”
    I hugged her, thankful she was at least part way on my side. “OK! Tonight I’m going to implore him to buy a tree! Implore means beg, but it sounds better.”
    With that big decision made, I jumped down from the chair and struck a crazy pose in front of the old mirror on our dresser. I didn’t think I looked much like an angel.

Chapter Three
    I got more and more nervous as the afternoon wore on. Dad would soon be home, and I would have to make my move. I was looking anxiously out the living room window, watching for his truck in the driveway, when Billy Wild came along delivering newspapers. He usually made the rounds on his bike, but he couldn’t get through the heavy snow that afternoon, so he was pulling his canvas bag of papers along on his sled. He was wearing galoshes over his cowboy boots, and I knew it was killing him to have to cover them up for even a second.
    At most of the houses along his route, he would just put the paper between the storm door and the inside door, or put it in a protected place like the milk box, but he usually knocked on the door at our house and handed it to me, and we’d talk a minute or two. I didn’t know why we always talked to each other, because if anyone had asked us, we would have said we didn’t even like each other. But for some reason, we would yak on about nothing.
    Today, though, I wasn’t in the mood for any idle chatter. As soon as he knocked on the door, I yanked it open, grabbed the paper out of his hand, said “thanks,” and practically slammed the door in his face before he could say a word. He just stood there on the porch giving me a disgusted look. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he did the