Step on a Crack (Michael Bennett 1)

“Okay,” Brian said. He began to turn in the dim hall, but then stopped.

“Hey, Julia,” he said.

“What?”

“I feel bad about when Dad came in last night and busted us. I really think this will make it up to him. Great idea to get up early and get everyone ready.”

“Why thanks, Bri,” Julia said. “That’s really nice of you to say.”

Man! Brian thought, wincing. She was right. What the hell was he doing being all fuzzy and nice to his sister?

“Last one to get their team ready is a retarded loser,” Brian called over his shoulder as he left.

He threw open the door to the boys’ room after he had quickly set the kitchen table. He was shaking Ricky’s foot at the bottom bunk when Trent swung out from the top and hung upside down like a bat.

“Did he come? Did he come?” Trent asked urgently.

“Did who come?” Brian said, flipping his five-year-old brother out of his bed and onto his bare feet.

“SANTA!” Trent screamed.

“Shhhh!” Brian said. “No.”

“What?” Trent said sadly. “Santa didn’t come? Why not? Are you lying, Bri? I know I was a little naughty, but I was nice, too.”

“It’s not Christmas yet, you little maniac,” Brian said, heading toward the closet. “Wake up Ricky and go brush your teeth. Brush and flush. Now.”

Brian smiled when he opened the bedroom door five minutes later. The girls were just coming out of their room. He’d thought Ms. Perfect in Every Way Julia would have the little ladies doing calisthenics or something by this time. But no. Snag. It was a tie.

Brian laughed when he flicked on the kitchen light. Even though it was corny, he had to admit, seeing everyone with their costumes on was also hilarious.

It was dress rehearsal today at Holy Name for the Christmas pageant, and everyone had a part to play. Chrissy, Shawna, Bridget, and Fiona were garland-haloed angels. Trent and Eddie were shepherds. Ricky had scored the part of Joseph and was sporting a totally fake and funny black beard. Even Jane and Julia, who were in the choir, were wearing long silver robes. Of course he, himself, had the coolest, most uncorny costume, being one of the three wise men.

“Look at them,” Brian said, standing at the head of the table next to Julia. “They’re almost, like, cute or something.”

Julia took a camera out of her robe and snapped a picture of the little Bennetts. What was up with girls? Brian thought. How did they always know the right things to do?

Julia showed Brian the screen on her camera.

“Do you think Mom will like that one?” she said.

“Maybe,” Brian said. “How the heck should I know?”

Chapter 54

WHEN THE MUTED clunk and giggles and bangs and cries of my family getting ready woke me that morning, I sensed the absence on my wife’s side of the bed and was grateful. The workday-morning deal between Maeve and me was that she would get them dressed and I would take them to school. To let me sleep in while she did the much heavier work of getting our double-digit familia together was the type of kindness by omission only people who are long married can understand.

I tossed around and was reaching for the warmth of her body pillow when I felt the cold, stiff sheets beside me, and I remembered.

As I lay there, taking my first morning sip of personal horror,

a chilling question occurred to me.

I swung my bare feet onto the cold hardwood and grabbed my tattered and holey robe off the bedpost.

If Maeve wasn’t getting the kids ready, who was?

It’s hard to describe how I felt when I stepped into the kitchen and saw my children fully dressed for their Christmas pageant. I was convinced I was dreaming, or maybe even dead, seeing the kids transformed around our breakfast table into some surreal Renaissance painting of a heavenly multitude. Then Trent knocked his SpongeBob cereal bowl off the table—and everyone turned around.