CHAPTER
forty-four

It was another rainy day. Just one more in a month that had already been so wet. It almost seemed like we’d all end up floating away if it didn’t settle down after a while.

Every light was on in Marvel’s house, and I thought if Stan could see that, he’d rush through, turning them all off. But the warm glow of lamps coming out of the windows made me feel at home as I drove up the road. Parking in the driveway, I let the car run just a moment before shutting it off and rushing to the side door that would lead into the kitchen, letting myself in as usual.

“Good morning,” Marvel said, turning from the skillet on the stove. “I’ll have these done in ten seconds. Blueberry, just the way you like them.”

My stomach rumbled, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before and those pancakes smelled awfully good.

“The boys are in the dining room,” she said. “I told them to set a place for you. I’ll be right there.”

My three nephews sat at the table, already eating the first batch of pancakes Marvel had made. I walked around the table, behind the chairs of each of them, leaning down to kiss their cheeks as I made my way to my place.

It made me smile when not one of them squirmed away from me.

“Oh, you all smell like campfire,” I said, sitting and pulling my chair up under the table.

“Dad made a fire in the backyard last night,” Nick said.

“He did?”

I looked at Marvel, who had just come in behind me, a tall stack of pancakes on a platter.

“All the wood was wet from the rain,” Dick said after stuffing a hunk of sausage into his cheek.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Marvel said, sitting beside me. “It was more smoke than fire.”

“That’s too bad.” I used the knife and fork Marvel had brought me to cut my pancakes into small squares.

“It was neat,” Dick said. “It started raining, so Dad put up the tent in the basement so we wouldn’t miss out on our campout.”

“I wanted to have a fire down there, but Mom said no.” Nick pushed his mouth to one side of his face and shrugged one shoulder.

“Well, it sounds like you had a fun sleepover.” I looked at Hugo and smiled. “Did you enjoy yourself, Hugo?”

He nodded eagerly. “We told ghost stories.”

“Not scary ones,” Dick added. “Funny ones.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” I said.

The boys polished off the last of their breakfast and dashed away to play in the tent again with Marvel calling out to them not to run in the house. Hugo doubled back and stood beside me.

“Did you miss me?” he asked.

“Oh, I did,” I answered, taking his hands. “But Flannery and I were all right because we knew you were having a good time.”

He grinned at me.

“Now, go wash your hands before you find the twins, all right? You’re pretty sticky.”

He used the kitchen sink to rinse his hands and then headed for the stairs that led to the basement. He didn’t even take a second to dry them.

“He was good for me,” Marvel said, dipping a piece of pancake into a puddle of syrup.

“I’m so glad.”

She got up quick from her seat. “I forgot coffee. How could you have let me forget?”

“Oh, dear,” I said, turning in my seat to watch her bring the pot and two mugs to the table. “Thank you. I sure need it.”

“Cream and sugar’s already right there.” She nodded at the lazy Susan in the middle of the table while she poured the rich-smelling coffee into the cups.

We both fixed them the way we liked them, and Marvel left the pot close at hand, knowing that we both needed as much of it as we could get on a gloomy day like that.

“What did you do with your evening?” she asked, blowing into her mug before taking a sip.

“Nothing much,” I answered, careful not to make eye contact with her.

Had Marvel DeYoung known that I was writing stories down, she would have asked to see them, not understanding why I would be so hesitant to share them. So, I stirred my already sufficiently blended coffee and cream and tried to be as nonchalant as possible.

“Sometimes it’s just nice to relax, huh?” she said. “You know, I’ve been thinking. School starts in just two weeks.”

“It does?” I asked, holding the fork over my plate.

“Nick is not excited about going back.” She pursed her lips together. “He’s already threatened to run away five times.”

“Just tell him he can’t run away to my house again.”

“Actually, I think that’s his plan exactly.” She sipped her coffee. “Are you thinking about getting Hugo registered for kindergarten?”

“Oh, goodness. I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“You probably should do it sooner than later, Betty.” She rested her elbows on either side of her plate and let her shoulders slump. “I know you didn’t expect Clara to be gone so long.”

I shook my head.

“I can make a call to the principal if you’d like,” she said. “Don’t take Nick’s word for it. Mr. VanZee is a good man.”

“Thank you.”

All three boys came racing through the house, sounding like a stampede of wild horses. For some reason, they all had their shirts off and bandannas tied around their foreheads. Hugo’s slipped down over his eyes and he stopped to push it back up before taking off to catch up to the bigger boys.

He’d grown so much since coming to my house just two months before. And I didn’t mean taller or broader, although I was sure that was the case too.

He’d grown in other ways. Ways that mattered even more.

I was sure that if I checked, his nails would be filthy.

Just the thought of it brought a smile to my face.