Spinning (26 page)

“Wait,” I said, touching her hand, “don’t just open it. I have something to say first.”

She threw me an exaggerated look of exasperation. “Well?”

“Just that, it’s been a tough few months for Spring and me.” I wasn’t sure where to go with this and I suddenly felt awkward. “Thanks for being around. It means a lot to me.”

Billie shrugged. “De nada,” she said as she broke through the paper and tape, and removed the carousel music box I’d gotten her. “Oh, D, I’ve always wanted one of these. How could you possibly have known that?”

“I cheated. I called your mom to get your grandmother’s phone number.”

“You called Wilhelmina?”

“She always sounded pretty cool from the way you talked about her, and you’ve told me that you like to talk to her more than anyone in your family. I thought she’d be a good one to ask what you might really want. After I agreed to report any of your indiscretions to her just kidding, it sounds like she thinks of you as a saint. I almost thought I had the wrong person on the line Wilhelmina said you always wanted a carousel music box. This one plays
Lara’s Theme
.” I took the box from her, wound it and the song began to play. “I tried to get one that played
Love the Way You Lie
, but they don’t make any. I ran my finger over a porcelain horse. “Wilhelmina said she was looking forward to hearing from you on Christmas Day and asked that I remind you not to forget her birthday in February again…something about turning 20?”

“Our joke. Wilhelmina was born on the twenty-ninth. That means she’s close to 80, or 20 if you only count leap years, which is why I forget her birthday three out of four years.” The song stopped and she wound the silver handle to play it again. “I can’t believe you found this. I love it. Ever since I was a little girl… Of course, it goes with nothing in my apartment. Sometimes, when I’m alone, you know, in one of those moods…I grab a latte and check the antique dealers. I never thought I’d find…oh, Dylan. She leaned over and kissed me quickly on the lips. As she did, her hair fell across my face.

“Now you open yours, she said, sliding out a small package from behind Spring’s gifts. “It isn’t like the one you got me, but I hope you like it.”

While the music box played on, I removed the striped green-and-white paper from the box. I couldn’t recall mentioning anything I might want, and I didn’t have a Grandmother Wilhelmina for Billie to call. I opened the
box and removed an envelope, which contained a picture of a house on the ocean. “You bought me oceanfront property?”

“Dream on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s supposed to represent a bed and breakfast in Cape Cod.”

“Cool.”

“Spring told me you said you’d take her to Cape Cod. Well, she said you promised to take her to ‘Cod.’ I thought maybe the three of us could go when the season opens in April. Isn’t her birthday in April?”

“Yeah, the 6th.” I was surprised. “The three of us?”

“If you want.”

Although a little girl slept in the other room waiting for Santa, I thought of no urn, no suitcase, no key, no pictures, and no Diane. If only for a moment, the woman next to me made everything else in my world disappear. “Billie.” I almost blurted out a lot of things that I wasn’t prepared to blurt out. In the end, I simply stated, “I wish I knew you better.”

“What?”

“I want to know why you like curry with your oatmeal. I want to know why autumn is your favorite season. I want to know why a woman who dances the way you do always wanted, I pointed, “a carousel music box.”

“I’m just so complex, aren’t I? she said, smiling. The moment seemed suspended, and I thought I could see Billie thinking about what to do next. Then she stunned me by looking at her watch. “We can ‘get to know each other some other time, D-Man. I have to go.”

“You have to go?”

“If I’m not in bed by midnight, Santa won’t come.”

Before I could protest further, she stood up, got her coat and picked up the music box. “This really is great. Thanks again.”

We kissed goodbye in the blinking lights of the twisted tree and Billie left. She’d exited so quickly, that I wondered if I’d done or said something that offended her. It definitely felt like the rug had been pulled out. Only moments earlier, I had come dangerously close to gushing.

I returned to the couch to finish my wine. My head was still spinning from the evening’s abrupt end and no Norman Rockwell wannabes were going to be capturing this moment on canvas. But I was still feeling more okay than I had felt in a while. A lot of things in my life needed work, but it was work that I was more than willing to do.

At one point, I thought I saw an anxious little girl peek around the corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa.

I got up before Spring in the morning because I wanted to be there when she awoke. She went to the living room to check under the tree and found me sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee.

“Looks like Santa found you,” I said.

“Yeah?” she said, checking the few large packages under the tree.

I knelt next to her and she turned toward me with a package.

“What is this?” I said with a smile.

“Open it.”

I unwrapped with enthusiasm and removed a ceramic coffee mug with a man’s face on it. It was a cartoon from the
New Yorker
.

“Thank you, Spring. I love it.”

“Now you don’t have to drink out of plastic anymore. You never spill.”

“That was very thoughtful.”

“Yeah. Billie helped me.” She smiled. “That was our big secret. She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“Billie? She’s the best secret-keeper in the world. I hugged her. “It’s really great.”

She looked back to the presents.

“Here,” I said, pulling out a small but heavy present. “Open this one. It’s from me, not Santa.”

She unwrapped the silver-and-gold foil and stuck the bow on her head. I’m guessing Diane used to do the same thing.

“What are they?” she said when she took the item out of the box. She seemed very confused. Not a good sign.

“I found those with some of your old clothes. They’re your old baby sneakers. I had them bronzed for you.”

I quickly realized that this was no little kid’s idea of a Christmas present.

“Oh.”

“You’ll appreciate the shoes when you get older.”

“Yeah.”

“Open that one.”

She did. Inside was a stuffed Piglet, which she immediately liked better than the bronzed shoes. She gave it a little introductory hug and then made her way through the rest of the presents. She seemed to like the penguin slippers and the iPod Nano which I’d loaded with hundreds of great songs; it was never too early to get a rock and roll education and she really liked the chocolate candy canes.

I handed her a box from Billie. She opened it and seemed utterly baffled by the contents.

“What’s this?”

I looked at the plastic card. “It’s a gift certificate to Saks,” I answered, though I might as well have spoken to her in German. “I think Billie wants to turn you into a shopaholic.”

When we were finished, I made my annual holiday call to my brother, Scotty, and said hello to my sister-in-law. She wanted to send Spring a present. They sounded like they were doing well. Before we hung up, Scotty told me that now I’d understand.

“Understand what?”

“Why Mom and Pop didn’t want to have any more kids.”

“Huh?” He reminded me that I was a mistake. That’s what brothers are for.

“If you have kids, your life changes. No more freedom, no more parties, no more fun.”

“You get that vasectomy yet?”

“Don’t need one. Trust me, we take more safety measures than they do in the West Wing.”

My first thought was that this was the kind of sentiment that caused me to stop going to see him on holidays. My next was that I might have sounded a lot like him six months ago. The difference was that I wasn’t sure that Scotty could ever feel what I was feeling now.

New Years came and went, and Spring and I spent a quiet evening watching “Duck Soup” on TV. I even let her stay up to watch the ball drop. She had never seen a Marx Brothers movie and really enjoyed Harpo. She liked that he had a horn under his coat, and instead of me
having to keep her entertained, she laughed herself silly. This made me very happy.

Billie said she would have dropped by, if she didn’t have a date.

My birthday is in January, and this year, I prepared to enter my 30’s at the stroke of midnight on January 14th by checking the mirror. Although I could see no discernible transformation, I knew that I had the wrong kind of mirror for this reflection. After all, I had changed decades, taken responsibility for a little girl, and owned a bookshelf full of
how to’s
to prove it:
How to Raise a Toddler
,
How to Increase Your Child’s Self Esteem
, and
How to Relax Around Children
among others. I wanted all the 4-1-1 available. I planned on a quiet birthday evening with Spring. Jim, however, volunteered to watch her and let me hit the town.

“No thanks,” I said.

“What? Are you crazy? It’s your birthday. I’d take you out myself, but then we’d still have to find a babysitter.”

“Nah, I’m 30 now. I’m slowing down.”

“Yeah, right. What about Billie?”

“She said she was busy.”

“How about I come by with some beers? It’ll be fun. A little beer, some frozen pizza, a can of squirt cheese…”

“As tempting as that sounds, I think it’ll just be me and Spring.”

“Do you remember your last birthday?”

A smile crossed my face. “The McKittrick twins.

“Guess it’ll be a while before we have another double date like that, huh?” Jim said. “Listen, if you change your mind, let me know. You can head out. I can look after Spring…”

“Thanks.” I appreciated Jim’s offer, but I really wasn’t interested. I was more inclined to stay home and have a Chutes and Ladders marathon with Spring. It was a different and more fulfilling kind of fun than the McKittrick twins had been. Besides, I was pretty sure I could beat her.

I was about to set up the board when I noticed Spring staring at the door. I thought she was planning to make a break to avoid playing when we heard a knock.

“Surprise!” Billie exclaimed, coming into the apartment with a pink box and some funny hats. Spring ran to greet her and grabbed a hat shaped like a fish. “Bet you thought we forgot.”

“We?” I said. She handed me a hat with the head of a bulldog.

“Yeah!” Spring said, grabbing the box from Billie and carrying it to the kitchen.

“Your big birthday. Number 3-0? Congratulations, Mr. Hunter, you are no longer considered a youth.”

“Oh, really?”

I opened the pink box expecting a bakery cake, but the edges looked a little wobbly and said
Happy Birthday D!
in an equally wobbly hand.

“Billie let me help her with the letters,” Spring said.

“Thank you, Spring. Thank you, both.”

Billie held up another box. “That’s not everything. Spring helped me pick this up on our shopping trip.”

I ripped the paper away from the small box. Inside, the little picture of Spring and Billie sitting on Santa’s knee sat in a beautiful handmade frame. “Hey, I have this at work.”

“
Had
it at work. Fortunately you left before me tonight. I never liked that cheapo frame you put it in. Like it?”

I hugged them both. “Thanks. I really love it. But it’s going right back on my desk at the office.”

With our dinner, we ate cake with wobbly pink frosting and then it was bath time. As it was my birthday, Billie volunteered to prepare Spring for bed. Although I no longer minded the task, I thought one night off might be nice. I was getting older and needed my rest. While I sat on the couch sipping a birthday scotch, I listened enviously to the ladies laughing during Spring’s song. Billie was working Spring’s routine in a different order. Fortunately, they called me to help with Spring’s story. Billie read while I performed the voice of a happy dinosaur.

“You do it,” Spring shouted to Billie. “You do his voice!”

“Help me out here, D-Man.”

“It’s my birthday. I’d kinda like to see you do a dinosaur.”

Billie made a face and then growled like a prepubescent T-Rex with more of a squeak than a roar.

“Is that a par-rie dog?” Spring said. Then she laughed.

“No,” Billie huffed, “it’s not a prair-ie dog. It was a T-Rex. There’s your water, good night. Go to sleep.”

Billie and I exited and waited outside Spring’s cracked door for her to say anything. She stayed quiet.

“She must be tired,” I whispered.

“Must be all that dinosaur talk that, or just living with an old guy.”

I was hoping that Billie would stay to hang out after Spring went to bed, but she obviously had other plans. As we walked back to the living room, she went for her coat.