like that, and he didn’t want to. He needed the puppet to feel real, to seem like it was a creature outside of himself, to look like a foreign object, not something that came from his own mind and hands. He couldn’t fake the element of surprise when he talked to the puppets on camera; he needed to be genuinely surprised, as if he were talking to someone who might say something he didn’t expect, not just himself or Jeremy saying the lines he’d already written.
“Half-assing it” simply wasn’t part of his vocabulary. Kids would spend their entire lives encountering adults who were half-assing jobs that deserved their full attention. He wasn’t going to be another one. After all, didn’t he always tell kids that all they had to do was try their best and be kind? What sort of an example would he be if he wasn’t giving it his all?
He sighed. Maybe the puppet needed a new nose. Or maybe he’d move the eyes again. Something had to work.
But for the first time he could remember, Everett didn’t want to keep working until the middle of the night until he figured it out. He didn’t want to sit here by himself and stare at a soulless puppet. He wanted to see another person.
He wanted to see Teddy.
47
The opening notes of “Christmas Wrapping” by the Waitresses started to play, and Teddy looked toward the speakers in confusion.
“Josie?” she called over the sound of jingle bells. “Have we time traveled?”
“What?” Josie asked, poking her head around an aisle, where she was organizing some action figures.
Teddy pointed to the speaker. “The Christmas music. You never start this early. It’s not Thanksgiving yet.”
Josie walked to the counter and sighed. “Teddy. Darling. I made the mistake of turning on the news today. Have you ever watched cable news?”
Teddy shook her head. “That’s what the Internet is for. I get notifications on my phone if something important happens.”
“Well, don’t start watching it now. Because five minutes of twenty-four-seven news coverage will convince even an optimist like me that the world is in the shitter. It’s a mess out there, apparently,” Josie said, pointing toward the street as if danger lurked right outside the shop door. “And now I can’t think about anything other than the fact that the world is full of sad, heartbroken, and lonely people. It’s enough to really bring a person down. I had to turn to Christmas music to make myself feel better, because Christmas music makes everyone feel better.”
Teddy tilted her head. “I mean, it certainly makes me feel better. I love this song. But that can’t be true for everyone. What about people who don’t celebrate Christmas? Or people who get mad about Christmas music being played too early? Carlos?”
He looked up from his comic.
“Your thoughts on Christmas music?” Teddy asked.
“I listen to it on December twenty-fifth,” he said, then returned his gaze to his comic.
Teddy and Josie looked at each other, mouths agape. “There’s a wealth of beautiful, joyous, jingle-bell-filled music out there and you restrict your listening to one day?” Josie asked, incredulous.
Carlos nodded without looking up.
Teddy shook her head. “That feels like a personal insult to Mariah Carey.”
“Sorry, sugar, but I’m gonna keep playing it in the store whenever the spirit moves me,” Josie said to Carlos.
He shrugged, seeming genuinely unbothered. “Your store, your rules.”
Teddy’s phone buzzed just as a customer walked in, and she checked it as Josie greeted them.
I know text messages are a callous, unromantic, and frankly just plain boring medium. But I didn’t want to risk you not seeing an email in time. When do you get off work? Want to take a walk?
Teddy smiled. Twenty minutes and yes, she texted back.
The door swung open again and Everett walked in.
Teddy stood up straight. “That was fast.”
“Yeah.” Everett ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing straight up. “I was in the neighborhood. Full disclosure, I was outside when I texted and—I don’t know—I didn’t want to wait. But now that I’m in here, I can see that that was the wrong impulse. Uh, Josie? Anything I can help out with? Anything need . . . dusting?”
He turned to Josie, who was staring at him with an amused expression. “You want to dust?”
“I’m here for the next twenty minutes. I might as well make myself useful,” Everett said.
“Have you met Carlos?” Josie asked, ushering Everett toward the counter.
“Not officially, and only in costume,” Everett said, holding out his hand.
“Nice to meet