Page 12 of One Hundred Lights
“I’m happy for you.”
“Wait, are they really playing Metallica?” Britt steals a glance at me. “That’s about as un-Christmasy as you can get.”
“Has Metallica not released a holiday album? Surely they’ve done a remake ofJoy to the World.”
“Ha,” Britt says, a smile cracking her face as she pivots down an aisle. Then screeches to a halt in front of a whole lot of nothing. “Oh, no.”
“Well, this isn’t good.” I survey the empty shelves.
A few sad extension cords lay abandoned where the lights should be. Not a single box. A small, fuzzy tumbleweed of dust drifts across the shelf. Another heavy metal song roars through the loudspeakers.
Also not Christmas music.
“What are we going to do?” Britt turns to me, face etched with the start of panic.
“We’re going to go to the next store, that’s what we’ll do.” I gently pull her arm and direct her away from the vacant shelves.
“But what if there are no lights? And why was that music so angry?”
“We have a billion stores we can check out. Either way, the kids will have a blast at the dance. You know that, right? You are not responsible for ensuring that each individual kid has fun.”
She groans. “It feels like I am.”
“Come on.” We climb into my car and set the navigation for store number two.
Ten minutes later, we’re only slightly more successful.
“Three boxes?” Britt turns to me, her face at the second stage of panic as she clutches the lights to her chest like they’re the last three cans of black beans in the apocalypse.
I shrug. “We can probably light up one whole doorway.”
“You’re not funny.” A shadow of a grin crosses her face.
“But listen.” I gesture above us, where classic holiday tuneWhite Christmassounds through the store’s loudspeakers. “At least the music is better. Although who doesn’t love a little eighties hair band?”
“I do not. I’m going to go pay for these.”
“Let me see your store list.” I accept her phone and follow Britt to the self-checkout. “Oh, I have a good feeling about the next one.” I wiggle the phone. “It’s a little farther out. But it’s bigger.”
And according to the map, there’s a coffee shop right around the corner.
“You think?” She bags the three boxes of lights.
I need to make this right for her. A surge of energy flows through me. We are going to find enough damn lights if it kills me.
“I do. Let’s go!” I grab her hand and pull her toward the door. We burst out of the sliding doors.
She screeches to a halt on the sidewalk and gasps. “It’s starting to snow!”
A few fat white flakes drift down from the sky.
“See? The holiday spirit is with us.” I watch Britt close her eyes and turn her face up to the light snow.
She smiles, eyes still shut.
“Ten. That’s pretty good!”Britt’s pulling the boxes into her arms—we didn’t get a cart so as to not jinx the operation—and counting to herself.
“Ten’s amazing! Enough for, like, three doorways, and maybe the DJ table.” I tilt my head. “Remind me, how many are we looking for?”
