“You’re uncommonly quiet, Liz,” FJ says, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He sits down at the table across from Lizzie.
I notice that Lizzie is staring into space. It’s after supper, and it’s my turn to stack the dishwasher. We had sloppy joes on hamburger buns with potato chips and coleslaw, so clean up is easy. The half brothers have gone to the living room to watch TV.
“It’s just”—she lowers her voice—“I heard the Ice Princess race is a runaway. One candidate is getting most of the votes.”
My ears perk up. That has to be Mandy. She’s an A-plus salesperson.
“But the race for Prince is close.”
Woo-hoo! Matt might lose the contest.
“Where’d you hear that?” FJ pours milk in his coffee.
“From a couple of people at the school. Mr. Arnt’s secretary keeps track of ballots, counts them daily.” Lizzie glances at me, and lowers her voice some more. “What if Matt doesn’t win? I don’t know what to do.”
FJ looks at me. “Finish up there, Frankie Joe, and join your brothers in the front room.”
“Yes sir, just got the last dish in.”
I pause outside the kitchen door, listening.
“It would break Matt’s heart,” I hear Lizzie say. “He’s known his classmates all his life.”
“Some things are out of our hands, Liz. He doesn’t win, well . . . he doesn’t win. He’ll hold up. He’s a Huckaby.”
“But I just don’t want him hurt. I don’t want any of them to get hurt.”
“Can’t hold them in your apron strings forever.”
“I know . . . I know.”
“Trust me. Our boys might bend in a storm, but they won’t break.”
In the living room, I sit on the opposite end of the sofa from Matt. A movie is showing, but I can’t concentrate on it. I hear Mark and Luke laugh now and then, and Little Johnny squeal. I keep glancing at Matt, but it’s like he’s wearing a mask. One that doesn’t smile or frown.