“Why did I have to get sicklastweek?” Emmett grouses over his Pop Tart. “Why couldn’t I have strepthisweek?”
Millie’s standing by the head of the dining table, looking sinful in workout tights and a fleece hoodie. She’s bound for the gym after she gets Emmett to school.Ifshe can get him to school. “Do we really have to do this today, Em? You just had a whole week off.”
I glance at the coffee pot on the makeshift counter we set up weeks ago. The coffee’s brewed, but Millie hasn’t made her to-go cup yet.
“Yes, because Ihateschool. I want to be offallthe time. Why can’t I be home-schooled?”
Millie sighs. “We’ve been over this.”
I grab the top take-away cup from the stack by the pot and fill it with coffee. I’ve watched Millie rush through her morning routine enough to know she takes it with six drops of stevia and a glug of Half-N-Half. I busy myself with this while the two of them argue. Upstairs, the sound of hurried footfalls thump overhead. Millie hears it, too, glances at the microwave clock, and holds up a hand to mark her place in her exchange with Emmett.
“Guys! Three minutes!” she shouts. The twins catch the bus in the mornings. They also tend to cut it close. Muffled responses that sound promising come from each twin. Millie turns back to Emmett. “Three weeks. You have three weeks until Christmas break. You can do this. I know you can.”
“What if I stay home with you today and go the rest of the week?” Emmett asks.
“We’re not negotiating,” Millie says, shaking her head. “You’re going to school.”
I snap the black plastic lid onto the disposable cup. Footfalls clatter down the stairs, distracting both Millie and Emmett from their battle. I take the opportunity to approach her and press the cup into her hand. Her eyes meet mine, surprised.
“Bye, Millie! Bye, Emmett!” Mattie calls from the front door. We turn to see her wave. “Bye, Luc!”
I smile, glad to be included. “Bye!” Millie and I call in unison. The sound of Harry coming down the stairs like a boulder down a mountain almost drowns us out.
He lands with a greatthwack.“Bye!” he shouts, tearing after Mattie. The front door slams as we hear the squeal of bus brakes and see the strobing yellow caution light through the front windows.
“Two down,” I murmur. We’re both still holding the coffee cup, fingers just touching. Still, it’s the first time I’ve touched her since she kissed me goodnight on the front porch. I’ve missed her all night, so I’m in no hurry to break it.
“One to go,” she whispers back.
“I can hear you,” Emmett drones. “And I’m not going.”
Millie deflates a little, but I speak up before she can reply.
“How about I drive you today,jefe?”
Both Delacroixes jolt at this.
“You don’t have to do th—”
“You mean it?”
Emmett’s half out of his chair, eyes wide.
“Yeah. We’ll go whenever you’re ready.”
His chair scrapes back as he stands. “I’m ready.”
Millie’s mouth falls open. “Wha—” She stops herself, looks at me and then back at Emmett. “Go brush your teeth and grab your book sack.”
“Okay.” Emmett snatches up his paper plate and makes for the trash can, only scattering a few Pop Tart crumbs as he does. “Be right back.”
And then he’s racing for the stairs.
Millie’s eyes meet mine. “I don’t deserve you.”
I huff a laugh because I think she’s kidding, and when I realize she’s not, I grab her. “What do you mean?”
She shakes her head, her blue eyes wide with what looks like sad recognition. “You’re too good. I should cut you loose for your own sake, but I don’t know if I can.”
