Chapter 14

“What are you doing here, Mom?” Fred said. “You should be home.”

“I’m fine,” she replied, grinning weakly. “Marjorie called me. One of the waitresses quit and she knew we needed—”

“Does Dad know about this?” Fred could feel heat burning in his ears. This was his dad’s fault.

His mother shook her head. “I only found out last night. You two were already here.” She placed a hand on his arm.

He tried not to wince. Her fingers were ice cold, even through the fabric of his shirt. “Quit.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t do that.”

“He should be the one getting a job, not you!”

“That’s enough,” his mother replied. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Now come in and have something to eat.”

“Mom—”

“Sit,” she ordered.

He sat—at an unoccupied table against the back right wall. Even though seeing his mom had thrown him for a loop, thoughts of the giant were not far away. Choosing the seat against the wall, he faced outward. Never leave your back exposed to your enemies. He knew that from the movies. Good advice.

His mother turned to Mai and Grace, her voice soft and sweet. “What a delight seeing you two. It’s been a while.”

Mai looked like she was trying to swallow something that wouldn’t go down. Her eyes were extra bright as her gaze slipped to Fred’s. It was no longer filled with disappointment. Pity had taken its place. He liked that even less.

“Nice to see you too, Mrs. D.” Grace’s voice sounded scratchy as she slumped onto the bench seat beside Fred.

“I don’t believe I know you,” his mother said to Jeeter. “Are you one of Freddy’s school friends?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Jeeter said, scooting to the far end of the table.

Fred watched his mother as she chatted to his friends, recommending food choices. She was so…delicate. A strong wind would whip her around like a leaf. It was as if she was being erased, a little at a time. No wonder Mai and Grace were reacting this way—they hadn’t seen her all summer. She’d lost so much weight. She was—

“Freddy, did you hear me?”

He snapped back to the present. “What?”

“What did you want to eat?” His mother was looking at him expectantly.

“I, uh…” he said, scrambling. What’s she doing? She knows I don’t have any money!

“It’s okay,” she added, as if reading his mind. “I’ll take care of it. What do you want?”

“You pick,” he said. She finished their order, which didn’t take long. A menu from the 1700s wasn’t full of choices. She took another order in French from a family of tourists at the next table, and then disappeared into the kitchen, and Mai excused herself to go to the washroom. Fred’s mind wandered, churning with confetti pieces of worried thoughts.

Their order took awhile. The restaurant was busy. Finally, his mother returned with a large wooden tray laden down with food and drinks. Halfway to the table, the tray wobbled slightly. She was going to drop it! Fred leapt up and grabbed it before it slid from his mother’s trembling hands.

“That’ll teach me to carry a lazy man’s load,” she joked. It might have been funny if her voice hadn’t been trembling, too.

Mai rushed in and plopped into her seat just as they began passing out the food. “Sorry, there was a line-up,” she said, blushing.

Fred held the tray while his mom passed out glasses, a large pewter pitcher of water, and the dishes of food—bread and cheese to Mai, stew to Jeeter and Grace, leaving one dish and mug remaining.

“An apple tart?” Fred gaped.

His mom grinned, the hint of a twinkle returning to her eyes. “Why not dessert first? In fact, that’s my new motto—always eat dessert first! Your meat pie will be ready in a minute. And here’s a hot chocolate. I know it’s warm out, so excuse the hot. I figured the chocolate part would make up for that.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He grabbed the large spoon and dug in. The mouthful of sweet apples and thick syrup melted in his mouth. “Mmm,” he groaned, washing it down with a swig of chocolatey heaven and wiping his chin on the large, white cloth napkin.

“Um, Mrs. D?” Mai said. “How am I supposed to cut my cheese with this?” She held up her large metal spoon.

“Sorry, dear,” his mom said, “that’s part of the authentic 1700s experience. You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”

His mom started clearing the table across from them. Sunlight streamed through the white-paned window. She leaned over and unlatched it, pulling both halves open. A breeze blew through, rustling the strings of her bonnet. She lifted her face to the sunlight and smiled, closing her eyes.

Fred swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. Framed in flickers of sunlight and shadow, his mom looked just like before—before his world had flipped on its head. Before the normal parts of summer—beaches, camping, and picnics—had been replaced with doctors, hospital visits, and tests.

“This is not very practical,” Mai grumbled. Digging with the dull end of the spoon, she was breaking off uneven pieces of cheese from the bigger cubes.

“Suck it up, Mai,” Grace said. “It’s not going to taste any different if it’s not in perfectly even slices.”

“Maybe not to you,” Mai said.

Fred also inhaled the tart and spicy meat pie that followed. With a full stomach, his brain was back in overdrive. He had to get back to the tent and his legs twitched, anxious to get going. But as usual, Mai was the last to finish, dainty as she nibbled the small bits of cheese.

He stared around the silent table. Everyone was deliberately not looking at him. Grace was examining the small metal jug she’d picked up off the table like it was the most interesting fossil she’d ever uncovered. Jeeter was staring at the plastered log wall and Mai was playing with the cutlery and twirling her hair. He let out a deep breath, the sweet apples turning sour in his stomach.

“The cancer’s back,” he said.

Mai lifted her stricken eyes to meet his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He couldn’t explain why he hadn’t called. How could he talk about the jumbled emotions and thoughts mashed together in his head when he didn’t understand them himself?

“She got really sick at the beginning of the summer—pneumonia. She wasn’t getting better, so they did some tests.”

The darkness of the restaurant’s interior and Fred’s own thoughts began closing in on him. Feeling the sudden need for fresh air, he jumped up and strode out into the sunlight.

And ran smack into the giant.