Jingle Boy Read Online Free

raising her eyebrows. She leaned one elbow on the counter and looked up at Marge. “How much for the rock?”
    “Excuse me,” the Mall Mom said. “I was here first.”
    “Whatever, lady,” Holly said dismissively. “You need another piece of jewelry like this woman needs another ten minutes on the tanning bed.”
    They both sucked wind. The customer’s heavily ringed hand flew to her chest, while Marge’s fingers fluttered toward her orange face. Once they got over their shock, they both looked out for blood.
    “You’re not helping!” I singsonged under my breath, smiling at the Mall Mom. I also glanced over my shoulder for my own mother. She probably wouldn’t be happy with Holly insulting the customers. But she was still out of sight somewhere, helping that guy.
    “Yes, I am,” Holly replied.
    “Look, there has to be more than one, right?” I asked, trying to be helpful.
    “No,” Marge answered. “This is a one-of-a-kind piece.”
    “We’ll take it,” Holly said. She reached over my shoulder and pulled the necklace right out of the Mall Mom’s grasp.
    “Who do you think you are?” the Mall Mom protested, hands on hips.
    “Lady, aren’t you late for a lip wax or something?” Holly said impatiently.
    The woman turned about six shades of red, spun on her high heels, and stalked away. I made a mental note never to bring Holly to the mall again. She’d clearly hit her other-people threshold for the day.
    Handing the necklace over to Marge, Holly stood up straight. “Ring this up, please,” she said politely.
    “You can’t be serious,” Marge responded, now holding the necklace away from her like a smelly diaper.
    “More serious than a bad hair day,” Holly said, her eyes flicking up to Marge’s perfect bun.
    Narrowing her eyes like a true villain, Marge slowly turned toward the cabinet to find a box for the necklace. It was at that moment that I realized I was actually going to get it. It was as good as mine!
    “What’s going on over here?” my mother asked, reappearing from around the cash register.
    “I found something for Sarah,” I told her. Marge turned and looked from me to my mother and back again.
    “Marge, this is my son, Paul. You remember him,” my mother said with a smile.
    It was clear from Marge’s stunned, slightly disgusted expression that she did not, in fact, remember me. For a split second I thought she was going to tell my mother what Holly had said to the Mall Mom, but apparently escaping from us was more important to her than tattling. She handed my mother the necklace.
    “Good. Then you’ll take care of this, won’t you?” Marge said. “I have some bookkeeping to do.”
    She was gone before anyone had a chance to answer her.
    “Paul, there’s no way you can afford this,” my mother told me gently.
    Holly reached over and slid the necklace from my mother’s fingers, then flipped the price tag over.
    “Whoa,” she said. “You sure you don’t want to go back for that pig?”
    I glanced at Holly. I had to admit, I didn’t have a lot of disposable cash at the moment—I’d already spent most of my saved-up allowance on the ticket to the Holiday Ball, a new suit, and a red tie with the subtle outline of light strands all over it. But how much could one necklace be?
    I looked at the price and gulped.
    “I can afford it,” I lied, my voice squeaking out. I
could
afford it. If I got an advance on my next six years’ allowance, sold my entire DVD collection on eBay, started panhandling outside Neiman Marcus, and maybe sold my soul to the devil.
    If I did all that
plus
took out a loan against my college fund, then yeah, no problem.
    “Well . . . you get an employee discount, right?” I asked my mother in my most innocent voice.
    “Ten percent. But Paul, I can’t let you spend that much,” she said.
    “But Mom, it’s perfect,” I semiwhined.
    “Paul—”
    “It’s one of a kind.”
    “Paul—”
    “Pleeeeeeeeze?”
    I’m not ashamed to admit