was doing and could help frame the hellos.
Taking a deep breath, he headed for the door into the vestibule, and reminded himself that him knowing the truth was enough. Reality didn’t become more real just because he drew others in it—there wasn’t some kind of occupancy requirement to yup-this-is-happening. Besides, if anybody challenged his good news? He was liable to get defensive in a forty-millimeter kind of way—
Trez was just about to open the vestibule’s first door when something in the billiards room caught his eye.
Behind the lineup of pool tables, down on the floor, a couple dozen pages were laid out in a fan. There had to be at least twenty or so, and they were marked with splashes of bright red and green. Breathing in, he smelled paint, but not the stinky oil kind. It was sweet and—
“Bitty?” he said.
The little young, who was stretched out on her tummy and surrounded by open containers of tempera paint, looked up and smiled. “Hi, Uncle Trez.”
Walking over to Rhage and Mary’s daughter, he got down on his haunches. “Wow. This is some kind of work.”
“I’m doing Christmas cards for everybody.” She rinsed her paintbrush in a glass full of murky water. “It’s a human tradition.”
“So I’ve heard.”
As he inspected her work, he thought of her hard start in life. She had lost so much, been hurt so badly. But now she was on the far side of that, having been adopted by a father and mahmen who loved her like nothing else. She had a good ending, and it was nice to feel like he was with her in that.
Her lovely soft face became very serious. “My mom and Auntie Beth told me all about how humans do it. You get cards for the people you love this time of year and then everyone puts them on their mantelpiece so they can look at them every night. I saved up my babysitting money, and I went to Hannaford’s with my dad, but none of the cards for sale really fit any of us.”
Trez smiled. “Well, vampires and all. Some things don’t translate as well. But I know I would rather get a handmade card from you than a store-bought one.” He put his palm up. “Not that I’m taking for granted that I’m on your list.”
“But you are, Uncle Trez. Of course you are.” Except then her eyes grew sad. “I mean, both of you are.”
“iAm?” Trez nodded. “You know, it’s more efficient to give us both one—”
“No. He gets a separate one.” She hesitated. Then she sat up and leaned across her masterpieces. Picking one up, she offered it to him. “Here, this is for you. I’m sorry if it’s… not good.”
Without even looking at the artwork, Trez frowned and put his hand on her tiny shoulder. “Bitty. How can I not love what you’ve made me?”
She just indicated the card, so he focused on it.
As he went to take what she had made for him, his hand started to shake ever so slightly. The 8½-by-11 sheet was split in two, clearly with the intention that it was to be folded in half down the middle. Turning it around, he blinked hard. There was a pair of figures depicted, and they were holding hands, a gold star above where they were linked. On the right, the larger of the pair had dark skin, super-short hair, a green sweater, and red pants. On the left, the smaller of the pair was wearing a red blouse and a green skirt, and had long, dark hair. But instead of being flesh-colored, the arms and legs and face of the female were silver.
“I wanted Selena to be on your card.” Bitty reached across her collection and pulled another page over. “So I made her like I made my mahmen. See? And my younger brother. They are all silver because they are not here on earth, but they are still with us.”
Trez took the card she had made for her mahmen. There was a figure like the one that represented Selena, silver-skinned with a red-and-green dress, and in her arms, in a little red-and-green swaddling blanket, was a silver-faced young. Next to the pair, depicted with flesh-colored skin, was how Bitty saw herself, slim and in red pants and a green shirt. Bitty was not smiling, but she was holding her mahmen’s hand.
“I have another card, though.” Bitty brought a third sheet over. “I have this one, too.”
On the third one, there were three