April wasn’t sure what she was expecting when Colin led her downstairs to the kitchen. Shiny copper pots hung from hooks in the ceiling. The countertops were stone and looked so clean you could eat off them. A funny-looking stove was at the end of the room, and April got the feeling that no matter how much the wind might blow and howl outside, this room would always be warm and cozy and smell like fresh-baked bread. It was instantly April’s favorite room that she had ever been in. When she saw the huge window seat lined with fluffy pillows, she wanted to ask if she could just sleep there instead of in her big bed upstairs. April never, ever wanted to leave.
A worn and weathered table sat at the other end of the room, and that’s where Colin led her. It was already covered with bacon and eggs and big heavy plates. It seemed like the kind of table where you wouldn’t get in trouble if you spilled. Maybe that’s why April wasn’t nervous as she slid into a chair so close to the hot biscuits she could have leaned over and licked the butter off of one if she’d wanted to. Which she did want to. But she resisted the urge, and for that she thought she might deserve some kind of medal.
“There you are!” Sadie exclaimed as Colin took a seat. “I’ve been waiting forever. What happened?”
But before Colin could answer, the doors swung open and Ms. Nelson came in, Tim and Violet trailing dutifully behind.
“I’m sorry we’re late, Sadie. It seems Gabriel Winterborne has a fiancée. Again,” Ms. Nelson said.
Sadie wheeled on Colin. “And?”
He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Alps.”
“Darn it!” Sadie pulled a five-dollar bill from her pocket and slapped it into Colin’s hand.
“Nice doing business with ya.” He slid the bill into his pocket.
“Everyone hungry?” Smithers asked, and April realized he must have been working on the other side of the room. He carried a huge ceramic dish very, very carefully toward the table. April wasn’t sure what was inside, but it smelled like heaven.
Ms. Nelson turned to the boy at the other end of the table. “So, Tim, have you settled in okay?”
“Yeah. I mean yes. Thank you.” He kept glancing at Violet out of the corner of his eye, but Violet wasn’t looking at Tim at all. She was too focused on Colin, who was pointing both of his fists in her direction. She’d tap him on the back of the hand, and he’d turn that hand over—lightning fast—and show her his empty palm. Then she’d touch him again, and this time a scrap of paper would be there, like magic.
Violet was laughing, and Tim was looking at her like he’d never heard her make that sound before, and Sadie was standing by the huge oven, a bright smile on her face.
“You have a seat, Smithers,” Sadie announced.
“If you insist,” he said, and made a show of slipping into one of the empty seats at the table while Sadie kept standing.
“Today, ladies and gentlemen,” Sadie went on, standing a little taller and speaking a little louder than she really had to, “I am pleased to unveil—for the first time ever—the SadieMatic Seven!”
April thought maybe she was supposed to clap, but Colin leaned toward her and whispered, “You don’t want to know what happened to SadieMatics One through Six.”
“This is very exciting, Sadie,” Ms. Nelson said, but April noticed that she scooted back from the table a little and Smithers kept glancing at the fire extinguisher that was mounted by the door.
“Everyone ready?” Sadie asked.
“Maybe we should enjoy our breakfast while it’s hot,” Ms. Nelson said.
“Oh, but this is part of breakfast. See?” And then Sadie pulled a lever that April hadn’t noticed before. Soon, the oven door opened and a cookie sheet slid out. There was a large stack of pancakes on it, and April watched, mesmerized, as the cookie sheet was pulled along a track and onto the clean stone countertop beside the stove.
Ms. Nelson applauded, and Smithers said, “Well done, Sadie,” but Sadie shushed them and said, “That’s not all!”
“Oh boy,” Ms. Nelson whispered.
April noticed a chain that was running along the ceiling, from the rack holding the pots to the light fixture over the table. A dozen spatulas were working their way through the air. When they reached the place just above the pancakes, a spatula would drop down and pick up a pancake and carry it slowly through the air toward the table.
“Oh, very nice,” Ms. Nelson said.
“Now Smithers doesn’t have to get up when he forgets things in the oven,” Sadie announced.
“Very handy indeed,” Smithers said, and it was perhaps the strangest conversation that April had ever witnessed. They were being so . . . nice. And April couldn’t imagine what was in it for them.
“Now, eat up while it’s hot, everyone,” Smithers said, and April grabbed a biscuit. Then another. Then a third just for good measure. They were the warmest, softest, butteriest things she’d ever touched, and she sat there with her eyes closed for a moment, soaking them in.
And maybe that’s why she didn’t duck.
“Look out!” Colin screamed, but the words were lost amid the sound of shattering glass. Orange juice exploded all over the table.
April looked up just in time to see a pancake hurtling in her direction. Luckily it missed her, but it hit the table and bounced, taking out Colin’s water and knocking over the scrambled eggs. Everyone froze as the big ceramic bowl that was, evidently, full of gravy was hit by a third rogue pancake, tipping it over and sending it flying through the air.
“April!” Ms. Nelson yelled, but it was too late. Steaming gravy was already heading toward April like a wave. She tried to duck. She tried to run. But it was like the most delicious tsunami ever, and April could do nothing but stand her ground as it washed over her, drenching and staining her new clothes and turning the buttery biscuits in her hands into a soggy mess.
The chain had gotten tangled among the pots and pans, and the harder it worked to pull free, the harder the pancakes flew across the room, knocking over glasses of orange juice and cups of coffee.
“April!” Ms. Nelson raced to April’s side. “Are you okay? Are you burned?”
“No,” April said, even though she thought she might cry because her biscuits were covered with gravy. Which, come to think of it, was kind of the whole purpose of a biscuit, so April took a bite out of one. And then, for good measure, she ate the entire thing. “I’m okay,” she said with her mouth full.
“Are you sure you’re not burned?” Ms. Nelson sounded like she really cared about the answer. Smithers brought a wet rag, and the woman began wiping hot gravy off of April’s face and arms.
“It’s okay. I’ve been burned worse,” she said, taking a bite out of biscuit number two.
“You have?” The woman’s voice sounded funny.
“Sure. I mean, burns only count if they blister, right?” That had been the rule in pretty much every house that April could remember, but judging by the way Smithers and Ms. Nelson looked at each other, she got the feeling that they might have different rules here.
“Go upstairs and take a cool shower, sweetheart. And then I’ll bring you a tray if you’re hungry.”
But April had found that the biscuits were still perfectly edible, so she ate the third one. She might have grabbed a fourth, but everyone was looking at her and April hated being looked at, so she pushed away from the table. She was walking toward the door when she noticed Sadie.
“It didn’t work.” Sadie’s lip was quivering, and tears were in her eyes, and April didn’t know what to say.
“There’s some room for improvement,” Ms. Nelson told her. “But, look, we didn’t even need the fire extinguisher.”
“So . . . what . . . you’re saying is . . . they’re getting better?” Sadie sputtered even though April didn’t think Ms. Nelson was saying that. At All. But the woman smiled and pulled Sadie into her arms.
For a moment, April wondered what that felt like, but she couldn’t start to guess.
Maybe it was the way the warm gravy was starting to seep through her clothes or the knowledge that everyone in the house was now ensconced in the warm kitchen without her, but Winterborne House seemed especially cold as April made her way to the big main stairs.
Not all of the Winterborne family artwork must have been lost in the museum fire, because there were portraits on the walls. Silver eyes stared back at her, and she thought she saw them moving, following her every step. She could have sworn she wasn’t alone. Except that was crazy. Or maybe not, April thought when she turned the corner and found a man in a three-piece suit staring at a wall as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
“Uh . . . hello?” April said, and the man jolted at the sound of her voice.
“Hello,” he said, eyeing April in all her gravy-covered glory. “I’m Evert Winterborne. And who might you be?”
“April.”
“April what?” Evert asked.
“I don’t know.”
Her confusion must have shown on her face because he said, “What’s your family name?”
“I don’t know that either.” April still didn’t understand the question. She didn’t have a family. Or if she did, she sure didn’t know what their name was.
“I see. And how long have you been at Winterborne House?”
“I don’t know,” April said again. “What time is it?”
She didn’t mean it to be funny, but he must have thought it was because he laughed, but it didn’t match his sad eyes. April had seen him in the library with the fake fiancée and Smithers and Ms. Nelson. She’d thought he must have left, but maybe he just knew what to expect from the SadieMatic Seven, because he was staring at her filthy hair and gravy-drenched clothes as if April herself was a stain on his family home.
“I spilled,” she said as if that should explain it all.
The house moaned and the wind howled, but Evert just stood there, staring at her as if she was the one who was intruding.
“You were at the museum,” she said. “I mean, I saw you there. Do you have to bring your own big scissors to those things? And where do you get scissors that big? Do you ever use them for anything else? If I had giant scissors, I’d probably use them all the time. Just for fun, you know? Can you imagine pulling them out on the first day of school?” April was rambling, but she couldn’t make herself stop. “Whatcha doing here?” she asked because, really, someone else was in control of her tongue at that point. April certainly wasn’t.
“I’m Mr. Winterborne. This is my home. I was raised here.” He puffed out his chest just a little and drew a deep breath, like he was fighting against the words he really wanted to say. He ran a hand lovingly along the wood, almost like he was looking for . . . something. “This house is . . . shall we say . . . a treasure.”
“Do you live here?”
“No, April. He doesn’t.” Ms. Nelson was walking up behind April, saying, “Evert, I didn’t realize you were still here, or I would have invited you to breakfast. There was gravy.”
“I see that.” He took a long look at April. “I was just leaving.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Ms. Nelson said before glancing back at April. “Go on, dear. It’s okay.”
But April had her doubts. She couldn’t help it. Having doubts had kept her alive so far, and she really didn’t see any reason to change now.