Beastly: Lindy's Diary (7 page)

was okay. Stupid, right?

“Makes me want to do something nice for someone,” Adrian said.

“Me too,” I said.

I told him how, last year, I bought some toys and things for these kids in my building, the Lesters, because I knew their mom couldn’t afford presents.

He was impressed. “Could you afford presents?” he asked.

“Not really. But I saved up and bought them some cars and teddy bears and left them on the doorstep.”

“That was really nice of you,” Adrian said. “Maybe we should do it again.”

Truth be told, I’d mentioned it hoping he’d suggest it. Last year, I’d only been able to get small toys with money squirreled away from my paycheck. Maybe together, we could do more this year.

So I told him about them, the boy, Kenneth, and the girl, Kiana, funny and creative, how their mom was

sort of a friend of mine when we had time for it. Adrian and I spent the rest of the afternoon talking about what type of gifts to buy. Adrian thought we should get them things to play with together, but I pointed out that, when you’re poor, sometimes it’s really important to have something all your own. Finally, we

decided to do both: art supplies and LEGOs they could share, and then a baby doll for Kiana and Tonka

trucks for Kenneth.

“Should we sneak in and deliver them?” Adrian asked.

“Um, that’s a good way to get shot in my old neighborhood,” I said.

So we ordered the toys and arranged for them to be delivered to their apartment. I wish I could see their faces when the presents come, but I can imagine.

I told Adrian I loved that we were doing this, and he said,

“And I love . . .”

But then he stopped. I knew what he was going to say.

He loves me. I think I love him too. But I can’t tell him that.

I can’t. This has been a wonderful, sweet fantasy, but it can’t be anything more than that, I know.

“Do you want to send anything to your father?” he asked.

“Christmas dinner, maybe?”

I frowned. “He probably doesn’t even live in the same place anymore.” Eviction loomed large in our

lives, and it would be even more likely now that I wasn’t there to manage things.

“I’ll find out where he is, and we’ll send something,” Adrian said. “I’ll make sure he’s safe. Lindy, I

would do anything for you.”

The thing is, he’s said that to me before. And no one else ever has.

December 16

I’ve decided I’m just going to have fun. It’s Christmas. I’m young. I’m not going to worry about the future, about hurting Adrian’s feelings, about leaving him. I’m not going to think about my father, either. I’m just going to enjoy this time. I deserve it. If it can’t last forever, at least I’ll have it now.

December 24

Tonight is Christmas Eve. I wish I could say it was weird, not spending it with my father, but that’s

happened before. More than once. Some years, he showed up stoned or late. Other years, he didn’t show

up.

But this year, I’m not alone. Adrian asked me if I usually went to church Christmas Eve. I haven’t, not

since my mother died, but suddenly, I really wanted to, so I said I did. “Will you go with me?” I asked.

And then I regretted it, because he frowned and shook his head. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable in a crowd

like that, but maybe Magda could . . . you wouldn’t leave, would you? Not on Christmas Eve?”

His eyes, wide and bright blue, seemed so concerned and his strange face so sweet. Of course, I said,

“Leave?

No, I won’t leave. I’ll never leave. In fact, I don’t want to go at all without you. We’ll just stay home and watch a service on TV.”

Of course, leaving was the last thing I’d do. I was where I wanted to be.

That was when he mentioned that there was a church down the street holding a live nativity, where they

acted out the Christmas story. “I could take you to that,” he said.

“It’s outside. I could stand in the shadows.” Much as I wanted to tell him he didn’t have to stay in the

darkness, I knew he wouldn’t believe me. And I knew he was right, too. I agreed to go.

So tonight was the first time I’ve been outside, out anywhere with Adrian. He wore a coat with a big

hood, and gloves. He held my hand as we walked down the street. It was sweet. I knew his hands were

ugly underneath the gloves, but it didn’t matter. I squeezed his hand.

He squeezed mine back.

As planned, we stood in back, in the shadows, and even so, whenever anyone turned around, Adrian

cringed and hid. This is how it would be, I knew, if we were together.

Always hiding, always concealed.

He started to say something, but that was when the music started, and the performance began. It was just

kids our own age, dressed as angels and wise men.

They had a real donkey and some sheep. At one point, I noticed a shepherd’s Nike sneakers, but still, it

was beautiful. After all, it was the story of two outsiders with nowhere to go. I so related, and for a

while, we were just silent, in the cold night air and under the stars together.

And then we came back and drank hot chocolate, and Will insisted we hang up stockings even though we

told him we weren’t kids anymore. “You never know what will happen in the dark,” he said, and

somehow, I just know those stockings will be filled by morning.

And now, I’m awake in my room, thinking, remembering.

I got Adrian a present. I had Magda go out to buy it, a bound volume of Hans Christian Andersen’s

stories. I know he’s too old for fairy tales, of course, but I thought he might appreciate them anyway.

Several of the stories involve transformation, like “The Ugly Duckling.” But I think the one he’ll like best is “The Nightingale.” That’s always been my favorite. It’s about an emperor who prefers the singing of a

gaudy mechanical bird over a real nightingale. But then, when the emperor is dying, the song of the plain-looking real bird restores his life.

Of course, Adrian isn’t plain-looking. Still, I think the message of goodness over beauty is a valuable one.

I wish the world knew it.

I’ve never been so excited about Christmas before!

December 25

Christmas Day! I woke early and ran downstairs to see the beautiful tree before anyone else. But Adrian

was awake and beat me to it.

Even though it was morning, snow had fall en on top of the greenhouse, so the light was dim. Adrian had

lit the tree, and it shone in the darkness. We stood and watched the lights twinkle for a few minutes. Then we thought to check our stockings.

As we suspected, some secret Santa had filled them with candy and little books of poetry.

Then Will and Magda came downstairs, and we went up and had breakfast before opening our other

presents.

We wanted to make it last longer.

But after breakfast, we did open them. Will loved the gift Adrian and I chose for him, new speakers so

NPR would be even clearer. For Magda, we’d chosen sweaters and earrings, and Adrian asked his father

for an extra bonus check to send home to her family far away. Will bought us a chess set and promised to

teach us how to play.

Then Adrian picked up my gift. “Oh, boy,” he said, feeling it. “It’s a book.”

“The best kind of gift?” I said.

He smiled, and I noticed again how lovely his eyes were, how unexpected the color against his strange

face. If only everyone could see him as I did, see how beautiful he was.

“The best gift is having you here,” he said. “I was so afraid you’d leave last night. I would have let you go.” I shivered at the thought of it. “I’m not going anywhere.” I held my breath as he fumbled with the

paper. His hands aren’t like other people’s, and sometimes, little tasks are difficult for him. Still, I didn’t offer to help. I didn’t want to embarrass him.

Finally, he opened it and read my inscription. I had written:

Adrian King and Hans Christian Andersen—two men who taught me about magic!

He looked away, saying, “That’s so sweet.” I wanted to read “The Nightingale” right away, or “The Little

Match Girl,” because it was a Christmas story, but Adrian laughed and said there was time for reading,

plenty of time, and told me to open his gift for me.

It was then I realized Will and Magda had disappeared. I could hear Magda upstairs, singing Christmas

carols while she cooked, and Will had said something about trying out his new speakers. We were alone.

Adrian reached up to a high branch of the tree and found a small box I hadn’t noticed, and suddenly, I was terrified.

Was it a ring? Did he mean to ask me to marry him? I couldn’t say yes. I’m only sixteen, and I can’t

commit to this, to anything right now.

And yet, I don’t want our time together to be over, either.

If he asked me and I said no, it would be all awkward with him. I didn’t want that. I wanted everything to stay the same, perfect.

Throat clenching, I fumbled with the paper almost as much as Adrian had.

I opened the box, and I could breathe again.

It wasn’t a ring.

Inside the box was a tiny pendant in the shape of a rose, silver or maybe platinum petals, with one tiny

diamond like a dewdrop. It hung on a silvery chain.

I sighed. “It’s so beautiful,” I told him, immediately removing it from its box so I could see it more

clearly.

He said he’d offer to put it on me, but probably, I’d do better myself. He looked sad when he said that.

“I love it,” I said as I fastened it on my neck. “Thank you.”

“I wanted you to have something to remember me by, even after you leave.”

And suddenly, I was hugging him, assuring him I never intended to leave.

“You will,” he said.

“I won’t.” I felt his heart beating, my chest against his. It was warm in his arms, and I wanted it to be true, wanted this moment, this day, this lifetime-in-a-year to last forever. I wished nothing would change and

I’d always be happy just to be here. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. He’d take it the wrong way, or maybe the right way, and I couldn’t hurt him. And then, Will and Magda came back

downstairs, and the moment was over. Still, I squeezed him harder, saying, “This is the best Christmas

I’ve ever had.”

Adrian pressed his face against my hair and said, “Me too. God, me too.”

December 26

I just had another weird dream. Again, there was the fairy girl, who looked just like that Kendra Hilferty.

Now she was dressed for winter fun in a green velvet dress with white fur collar and cuffs, like the Ghost of Christmas Present. Again, she sang. This time, it was to the tune of

“Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.”

Things aren’t always as they seem.So—voilà—you have this dream.Adrian is a great guyIf you’ll just

give him a trySee him through much different eyesYou will have a big surprise.If you trust yourself to

loveYou will be in heaven above! And then, she started to dance.

Like a Rockette.

And then, she turned into a whole LINE of Kendra Rockettes, kicking and singing:

Please give Adrian a chance!So we can finish up this dance! And they disappeared—poof—as I

awakened.

Was my subconscious telling me to stay with Adrian? Of course, that’s what I want. But what I want

hasn’t always been right. I mean, what I’ve wanted all these years was to fret and worry and try to care

for a father who will never get better, to sacrifice what I want in the process. And maybe Adrian is just another substitute for my father, another someone who needs me.

So my subconscious might not have the best judgment.

And, um, why is my subconscious showing me dancing Kendra Hilfertys?

Answer: My subconscious is nuts!

Still, I know I love Adrian. He’s kind to me and good and decent. I love his roses, and I love that he

really will do anything for me, even read poetry. I love his courage and his sweetness, too. And, of

course, unlike my father, Adrian is nice to me and tries to make me happy.

I’m wearing the necklace he gave me. I know I’ll never take it off, no matter what.

December 26, Later

I had barely slept when Magda shook me awake.

“Come,” she said, “we are going on a trip.” A trip? My thoughts were all muddled, and for a minute, I

wondered if it was a big lie. I’ve lived with these people for five months, but maybe they were just

gaining my trust and now they’re going to ship me to South America and sell me. I thought about running,

but I was too tired.

Magda led me downstairs, where Adrian and Will were waiting.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Trust me?” he asked.

And yes, I did. I trusted him. I wasn’t used to trusting people, but I did.

“We’re going someplace great,” he said, “someplace you’ll really like. At least, I hope you will.” He

held out my coat and gloves. I put them on. He, too, had on a heavy coat and a scarf, hiding his face. As we walked around to the back door of the house, he held my arm lightly, and I trusted him.

There was a limo out back. A freakin’ stretch limo!

“Are we going to the airport?” I asked, thinking of South America again.

Adrian shook his head. “I’m taking you to see snow. Like you wanted. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

Adrian gestured at my seat belt. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Obediently, I fastened it, then just as obediently, I slumped over and pretended to sleep.

I felt so warm beside him.

I remembered that, a few days earlier, I’d complained that I wanted to go out in the snow. Was he taking

me someplace where we could play outside? Would he really do anything I asked, just because he loved

me so much?

I knew he wasn’t asleep, but he thought I was. We crossed a bridge, then another. He took off his scarf