“Morning, Harry.”
“Blech. His tongue got in my mouth,” he whisper-shouts across the room. He’s not really mad. Or even grossed out. He’s trying to make me laugh, so I do.
“Clarence, mind your manners,” I say, chuckling. “So, what’ll it be? Waffles or eggs?”
After we lost Mom and Dad, I quickly learned that even if Mattie and Harry were technically old enough to make their own breakfasts, they didn’t actually have the maturity to do it. They’d say they weren’t hungry just to sleep later.
But then the calls started coming from school about them falling asleep or sneaking snacks in class.
So I make breakfast for everyone now.
“Eggs. Three scrambled, please. Got a game today.”
My eyes bug, and I’m glad it’s too dark for him to see. “Right!” I say as if I totally remembered his soccer game, and I so totally forgot. I cross my fingers for good luck. “A home game.”
Please, God, let it be a home game.Away games are a logistical gamble, and I’d hate for him not to have anyone in the stands cheering him on.
“Yeah, like I told you last week.” Harry sits up and scrubs his head, and in the dim light of the hallway, I can see he’s frowning at me. “Did you forget?”
“No, no. I didn’t forget… Just making sure,” I sing-song, crawfishing out of the room.
I still have a few minutes before I have to get Emmett. Just enough time to negotiate. So.
I dash back to Mattie’s room. The outline of light tells me she’s in the bathroom, so I tiptoe through her room and press my lips to the door jamb. I can hear water running.
“Mattie,” I hiss whisper. The water cuts off.
“What?” She sounds irritated. And I have to admit, if one of them came to the door while I was in the bathroom, I’d be irritated too. But I only have a few minutes, and I need to be strategic about this. As Mick Jagger says,you can’t always get what you want.
Well, none of my siblings is going to get what they want today, but maybe they’ll get what they need.
“Can you stay at school today for Harry’s game? So I can pick up Emmett and get him there?”
I hear my sister’s annoyed sigh, and I brace myself. Mattie likes routine. She wants to come home every day, straight after school, and start on her homework. At five-thirty on Mondays and Wednesdays, Mrs. Chen arrives for Mattie’s piano lesson, but at five-thirty every day even when she doesn’t have lessons, Mattie is still at the piano, practicing for an hour.
Except Saturdays and Sundays when she practices for two hours.
Harry’s game starts at three. Emmett loves Harry’s games. The chance to go to one—which means me picking him up from school instead of having him ride the bus home—might be just the bargaining chip I need to get him up and out without a fuss today. But instead of picking her up like I normally do, Mattie will have to stay after school until the game ends, which won’t be until around four-thirty. Messing with her routine is going to carry a price.
“Fine,”she drones, “but can we have Chick-fil-A for dinner?”
And here it is. Harry likes Cane’s better. EmmettsaysCane’s is better, but I really don’t think he cares. He just wants to be like his big brother. I don’t like either, but at least Cane’s is closer. And local. To get Mattie’s precious Grilled Cool Wrap and waffle fries, I’ll have to drop the kids off at home first so Mattie will be there in time for her lesson, get back in the car, and drive all the way to the Ambassador Caffery location.
Not to mention having to listen to the boys gripe about why we aren’t getting Cane’s.
Like I said, no one’s going to get exactly what they want here. Emmett’s not going to get to skip school. Mattie’s not going to get to come home right after school. And Harry’s not going to get the dinner he wants when he wants it. He’ll have to wait another hour—after a full day of school and a soccer game—to get the dinner he doesn’t want.
But they’ll get what they need.
And, bottom line, that’s what I need. Forget what you want. I know I have. Getting what you want is overrated.
Chapter Two
MILLIE
“Can I get a Coke and a popcorn?”Emmett asks, slamming the car door before catching up with me. The soccer game is just minutes from starting and I want to be in the stands when it does. “I’ll share it with you.”
I glance down at my red-headed little brother and his manufactured look of wide-eyed innocence. “I’m not falling for that again.” The last time I did, Emmett drank all but the last two swallows of Coke and zipped around the soccer field like a bumblebee on Vyvanse. “How about we get a popcorn and two waters?”
