Page 33 of Hilarina and the Ogre

Annette really couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You already have a job.”

“A real job.”

It was another shocking upset. Everyone knew how much Trenton loved the bookstore—his dream job in every aspect. Well, maybe not in every aspect.

“One that can properly support Hilary.”

Now he’d stepped in it. Annette seemed to stretch with her anger, her cheeks taking on the pink heat that meant death was imminent. “So you need to support him, do you? His parents must be a real pair of deadbeats if a child needs to step in to help. Is that it?”

Trenton should have been scared. He should have seen how outmatched he was and switched straight over to apologies and abasement. But he set down the onion he was holding and said, “His parents are the best I could have asked for, but this has nothing to do with them. As someone who has made his own promise to Hilary, I have certain duties, and one of them is to—”

“Your duty, my dear, is to go to school. All children—”

“But I’m not a child. I turned eighteen on Tuesday.”

They all stopped. “Tuesday?” Annette had taken up the onion as if to throw it, but it dropped from her hand, forgotten. “Tuesday? But you were here Tuesday.”

It was the proverbial icing on the cake. It seemed impossible that Trenton had fumbled himself into such a position by accident. “Yes?”

Hilary couldn’t save the boy. Nothing could. Inwardly, he said his goodbyes. But Annette didn’t shout. She didn’t throw anything. Instead, she went to the cabinet and took down the little box with the recipe cards. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

Trenton was thrown by the question. Then again, it wasn’t really a question. It was the sealing of his fate. “Pardon?”

“For your birthday cake. Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Oh, I don’t need—”

“You come into this house. You make a mockery of the love showered on you. The least you can do is accept a goddamn cake. Chocolate or vanilla?”

The boy’s eyes were widening. The understanding of just how badly he’d screwed up was beginning to dawn—too late. Hilary stepped in before Trenton could stumble his way into even worse circumstances. “Chocolate.”

Annette took down the baking chocolate. “Frosting or ganache?”

Again, Hilary took the question. “Ganache.”

Annette accepted the butter and eggs Albert silently handed to her—because even the king of mischief knew better than to try to say anything just then, heading back to the fridge for the milk. As Annette set the butter into the microwave to soften, Hilary found a blank space on the counter and took down the flour sifter. It wouldn’t save Trenton, but every bit might help.

Trenton cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to insult the care you’ve shown me. I’m nothing but grateful—”

Albert clamped a hand over Trenton’s mouth and said to his wife, “We’ll start up the grill, honey.”

It was too cold for a barbecue, but it was the right call. Better to have the boy out of the house even if it did turn him into a block of ice. But that also meant Hilary was the only one left with Annette in her current state.

“He didn’t tell you either?” she sounded dull, oddly hollow.

He shook his head, and then, realizing his mother couldn’t see it, opened his mouth. “No.”

“I wonder at that boy. I wonder at him exceedingly.”

Her diction rose when she was angry. It was one of the more obvious signs.

“I think maybe—” did he dare? Normally he let the night pass before he pushed the envelope, but it felt worse to have her angry with Trenton. He steeled himself. “I don’t think his family situation is normal. He doesn’t have a father, but it’s more than that.” It was just an intuition he had, and one he didn’t feel he could inquire into. There was something about the situation that had him treading lightly. “I think there were irregularities in the way he was raised.”

“Hilary, I know you love him, but this is between him and me.”

“But—”

“I know he isn’t used to it. That this is probably his first crack at having a family, but that only makes it more important that he learn the proper way of doing things. If you keep making excuses for him, he isn’t going to learn.”