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“You look too comfortable. Don’t get up. I can manage easily,” she assured him and dragged a section of artificial pine garland out of the box, laying it aside.
When she began lifting out snowy white pillar candles, Quint understood her plan. Soon a half dozen candles of varying height filled the fireplace opening, some sitting on the hearth itself and the rest on a flat board lying on the andirons.
Off to the kitchen she went and came back with a box of kitchen matches. One by one, Dallas lit the wicks until there were a half dozen individual flames burning high and bright.
“How does it look?” She stepped back to survey the result.
“Perfect. Absolutely perfect,” Quint announced.
“If you ask me, it’s a waste of good candles,” Empty countered.
Dallas threw him a chiding look, full of amusement and affection. “And a ‘bah, humbug’ to you, too.” Again she turned to the fireplace and studied it with a critical eye. “It still needs something,” she murmured and picked up the pine garland.
With practiced skill, Dallas arranged the garland across the mantelpiece, anchored it at each end with two more pillar candles, and added a few sprigs of fake berries.
“How’s it look?” Dallas stepped back to survey the result with a critical eye.
“Looks good,” Quint said.
“I think so too,” she said and picked up the nearly empty box.
Again she disappeared into the hallway with it and returned a short time later empty-handed. Empty eyed her narrowly. “Are you done with this decorating business?”
“You started it by insisting we get a tree,” Dallas reminded him. “But, yes, I am done—at least for the time being. Why?”
“’Cause it would be nice to watch television instead of you walking back and forth in front of it,” he retorted.
“You don’t have to worry. I’m going out to the kitchen and fix some cocoa. Anyone interested in a cup?”
“It sounds good, but only if you sit down and drink yours,” Empty replied with pseudo gruffness. When she left the room, he slid a glance at Quint. “See what I mean? She’s never still for two minutes.”
Noises came from the kitchen as cupboard drawers and doors were opened and closed, water was run in the sink, and items were set atop the counter. Mixed in with all of it was the beeping of the microwave.
A few minutes later, Dallas entered the living room, carrying a tray with three mugs of steaming cocoa, each topped with a marshmallow. Quint sat up to take his from the tray she placed on the coffee table.
When Dallas picked up hers, Empty pointed to the platform rocker. “Now sit down and drink it.”
“I planned to.” Again she curled up in the rocker, both hands holding the cup.
Yet for all her relaxed pose, Quint sensed her restlessness. “Are you having a hard time adjusting to the idea that you don’t have books to crack?”
Her quick smile was an admission in itself. “No books to crack, no racing off to wait tables at the café, no rushing to get to the feed store, then hurrying home to throw a meal together before dashing off to class. And all of it stopped. Yet I still have the feeling that there’s some place I have to be, something I have to do. It makes it hard to sit and do nothing.”
Empty’s solution was a simple one. “Just sit there and stop thinking about it.”
“I wish it was that easy,” she said and took a sip of her cocoa, then picked up the magazine again and began flipping through its pages.
Even after the last of the cocoa was consumed, Dallas was still in her chair. Empty was the first to stir, reaching up to stifle a big yawn.
“Mmmm.” He shook his head as if to clear away its grogginess and released the catch to lower the recliner’s footrest. “That dang cocoa always makes me sleepy. Guess I’d better call it a night.”
He stood up, passed the remote to Quint, and ambled toward the bedroom with a parting admonition to Dallas. “Don’t forget to unplug the tree and blow out them candles before you come to bed.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
Empty’s departure marked the end of her idleness. The instant the bed
room door closed behind her grandfather, Dallas sat forward and reached for his empty cocoa mug. Quint picked it up before she could, and slid it onto the serving tray with his own.
