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She sat across from me in the breakfast booth. “What kind of person wouldn’t want to finally get to meet their great-niece and have the chance to spend time with her?”
“I’ll be here all the time.” She needed to understand that I would now be her responsibility. Not a visitor for a fun holiday but a kid no one else wanted. A kid my own mother hadn’t loved enough to stick around for.
“Good. This house has been empty of a family for too long. You and me—we’re family. We’re all that’s left of us now, which means it’s up to us to live as fully as we can.”
“Okay.” I stared down at my hands, folded in my lap. A longing for mother overwhelmed me. I could not cry. I could not do anything that would make Aunt Biddie change her mind.
She reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “It’s all right to be sad. You can cry as much as you need to. I’ll be here for whatever you need.”
I wanted to believe her, but I knew from experience that sometimes people didn’t keep their promises. My mother had promised to love me forever, and she’d chosen to leave. For now, however, I had to hope she was a woman of her word.
What other choice did I have?
22
BONUS CHAPTER, CASPIAN
“Caspian, will you please remain after the bell?” Mrs. Marley asked.
My stomach dropped. Staying after meant I’d done something wrong. Had it been my spelling test? I hadn’t known how to spell about half of the words. As they always did, letters swam around the page. Susan’s seat creaked every time she moved, distracting me. Bobby kept tapping his pencil against the surface of his desk.
“Yes, ma’am.” I stared up at the chalkboard, begging myself not to cry. Why was I such an idiot? Rafferty and Atticus were supersmart. School was nothing to them. They did not stare out the window on the way to school with an ache in the pit of their stomach, dreading the day ahead. Unlike me, they didn’t live for the weekends when I could be with Mama in the kitchen, cooking for our family.
The class emptied, chatter fading until there was nothing but silence.
Mrs. Marley got up from her desk and came to sit next to me at one of the students’ desks. She tucked long blond hair behind her ears and peered at me from behind glasses, and I caughta waft of her perfume that smelled of the lavender in Mama’s garden. “How’s your mother?”
I blinked, surprised by the question. “She’s fine.”
“Did you know she and I attended this very school together?”
“No, ma’am.”
“She was very bright. Just like you.”
“I’m not.” I gazed down at my desktop, fighting tears.Stupid. Weak. A mama’s boy.All words my father used to describe me.
“Actually, you are.” She touched my shoulder. “Caspian, look at me please.”
I straightened, turning toward her. Tears leaked from my eyes. I swiped at them angrily. Tears were for sissies. That’s what my father said any time one of us cried. One time recently, he’d shoved my five-year-old brother Soren against the wall for crying about a television report about abused animals.
“I know you’re smart,” Mrs. Marley said. “But I also know school’s frustrating for you. Is there something you like to do outside of the classroom?”
I thought for a moment. There were a few things. Fishing with my brothers. Watching cooking shows with Mama whenever we could sneak one in when my father was out of the house. Helping make dinner with Mama was my favorite time of day. “I like to cook.”
She tilted her head, nodding slightly. “Your mother told me you loved to help in the kitchen. Do you follow recipes?”
“Yes. But Mama helps me with that part.”
“Do you find yourself distracted like when you are in class?”
I studied her for a moment before answering. Was she trying to trick me? Maybe laying a trap as my Dad did? Asking something that seemed innocent but wasn’t?
“Caspian, you’re not in trouble,” she said gently. “I’m asking because I want to help you. When you’re doing something you love, is it easier to concentrate?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What else do you like to do?”
