“When are we leaving, Mom? Mom? Mom? Are you still mad at Rupert for breaking the angel? He didn’t mean it,” says Vinnie watching his mom make the bed.
Vinnie’s mom straightens up, turns around, and sits on the edge of the bed. She looks at Vinnie holding Rupert standing in the doorway to the bedroom. Dexter is sitting on floor behind Vinnie. She says, “Vinnie come here.”
Vinnie doesn’t move, “Are you mad at Rupert, Mom?”
“No, I’m not mad. I only want to hug you,” says Vinnie’s mom holding her arms outstretched.
Vinnie runs over and crashes into his mom almost knocking her back on the bed. Vinnie’s mom wraps her arms around Vinnie, then tussles his short dark hair with her hand. She moves Vinnie to arm’s length away keeping on hand on both his shoulders. She says, “You know how much the angel meant to me?”
“Yes, Mom. It was your favorite Christmas ornament.”
“I want you to tell me the truth, did Rupert break the angel?”
“Mom? Are you talking to Rupert or to me?” asks Vinnie.
“You, Vinnie. I’m talking to you.”
“Awe, Mom. Rupert told me he’d take the blame for me so you wouldn’t be mad at me. It was an accident, honest. When the sausages started exploding I was opening the macaroni and cheese box I was making you for breakfast and I jumped and threw the box and the box hit the angel and the angel started to tumble and I tried to catch it and I just missed it as it rolled off the table. That’s how it happened, Mom. Honest.”
Vinnie’s mom smiles, “Was that so bad to tell me the truth?”
“Are you mad at me, Mom?”
“No. It was an accident.”
“Why did I get sent to my room?”
“I needed time to get over my disappointment.”
“Are you over it, Mom?”
“The angel is only a thing. You’re more precious than a thousand Christmas angels.”
“I think Santa is going to be really good to you this year, Mom. I love you,” says Vinnie breaking loose from his mom’s grip and giving her a hug.
“When are we leaving for the mall, Mom. There’s going to be a big line for Santa.”
“I promise you’ll see Santa today. We may have to stand in line for a while, but we won’t leave until you see him.”
“Can Rupert come with me? Rupert loves Santa. Maybe Santa will bring Rupert a present this year. Santa forgot to bring him a present last year. I don’t want Santa to forget Dexter, either.”
Dexter hears his name and saunters into the bedroom expecting a treat for answering to his name. When he realizes there is no treat, he saunters back out and heads toward the kitchen, the source of happiness for him.