"Suzi — "

"We won't be there! He'll think we died and he'll give my toys to somebody else."

I started crying. Mommy sat on the floor against the wall with no fireplace. She held out her arms and I ran to her.

"I don't want to live in this stupid house!" I said.

Mommy rocked me back and forth. "Let’s see," she said. "How can we solve this problem?"

We thought a minute.

"What about, like, those planes on the beach?" I suggested. "You know, the ones pulling the signs? We could get one with our address on it."

"Uh, er," Mommy said.

"But then a robber might see it," I realized.

"Good point."

"Mommy, how many days till Christmas Eve?"

"Twelve."

"How long does it take a letter to get to the North Pole?"

Mommy smiled. "Oh, four or five. Maybe a week."

"Yes! Can we write Santa a letter?"

"Sure, Suzi. As soon as we get home. Maybe Stacey can help you. She's baby-sitting tonight."

"Okay!"

Whew. Did I feel better.

Like my letter? Mommy and I made a copy of it the next day. Then we went to the post office and mailed it.

"Are you happy now, sweetheart?" asked my mommy.

"Yes," I said. But I wasn't. "Mommy?"

"Uh-huh?'

"How many kids are in the world? A googolplex?"

"No, but millions. Maybe billions."

"How much room does a million letters take?"

"I don't know, Suzi. A few rooms, I guess."

"Oh."

A few rooms?

Santa could never read that many letters! What if he didn't read mine?

"Mommy?"

"Suzi. I'm driving — "

I was so angry. "We can't move until after Christmas!"

"We just mailed your letter."

"The house is yucky. You can move there. I am staying home!" I folded my arms.

We didn't say another word the whole trip.

Chapter 6.

Mary Anne