CHAPTER11 When I woke up Christmas Eve morning I didn’t feel happy the way I do most Christmas Eves. It took a while to remember why: Nick, and last night. Mom was in the kitchen eating a toasted muffin and jelly and drinking coffee. “Want some?” she asked. “No thanks.” I got out the fruit-and-bran cereal and a dish. Mom watched me over the top of her coffee mug. “It’s such a pain having to work Christmas Eve,” she said. “But I’ll be home at five and then Christmas will really begin.” “I know.” On the table there was a bowl of red roses that Miss Coriander had sent over. Mom loves roses and Miss Coriander is about the only one who has them this time of year. “Nick won’t be home today,” she said. “Too bad,” I muttered, pouring cereal into my dish. “But if you feel the least bit …” She paused and then started over. “If you feel too much alone, go next door. Everything’s safe, of course, with the new locks. But Miss Sarah and Miss Coriander will be starting their cooking today.
