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Chapter Twenty-Three
At 3:10 p.m.,Chris saw Violet sitting on the front step of Agatha’s house. The house had been quiet all day. He hadn’t seen Agatha except when she had woken him to tell him she was leaving with the girls. Now she was ten minutes late to meet Violet, and it looked like Violet had already checked around the house.
Jogging over to her, he asked, “No Agatha?”
Violet was on the verge of tears. “No, I can’t find her in the house, and her car is gone. I think she forgot me.”
“She would not forget about you. She must have got caught in traffic or something. Can I sit with you?”
“Yes. She doesn’t have cookies out.” Violet got up and walked into the house. Agatha always had cookies out for Violet when she got home from school. Just like the pop and mail, it was a ritual.
Chris wondered where Agatha could be. For the first time, he started to worry that she had been in an accident or something. No way would she miss Violet coming home from school.
“Where is Emma?” he asked.
“A friend’s house,” Violet said and rolled her eyes. “A new friend Mom thinks is a nice girl but isn’t.”
“Do you know where the cookies are?” He followed her through the kitchen.
“In the freezer. Lucy makes them for Agatha.” The girl went into the freezer and pulled out a bag of four cookies.
Both he and Violet looked at the frozen peanut butter cookies. It said “B Ratt” on the bag, making Chris chuckle, but not Violet. Lucy was the one behind the shirts.
He poked at the frozen dessert. “We’ll have to wait a few minutes.”
“Okay. I’ll check the studio one more time,” Violet said and was gone. After a moment, she was back with a sad face, no Agatha up there.
Chris had no idea where a studio would be in the house, but he hadn’t been in every room yet. Agatha was still nervous that he would break her house and always kept an eye on him. He hadn’t broken anything in over a week at his house, mostly because he was not allowed to do much. Others were fixing it now, and he had to admit he was no handyman.
“Are you going to see the baby again today?” Chris asked her in hopes of making her happy. Today was the first time he had seen the little girl sad since she had complained that Nick J. had called her sparkly.
“Yes. Buzzy will pick us up and bring us to the hospital again.” She didn’t sound happy about it.
“Did you see the baby this morning?” Chris asked, knowing she had.
“Yes, and I got to hold him, but Agatha didn’t.” She opened the bag of cookies.
“Did she say where she was going today?” Chris realized he was questioning a little girl about his girlfriend. Was she his girlfriend? They hadn’t talked about it, but he wanted to, soon.
“No, she didn’t say anything.” The little girl’s eyes swept the house again, like she still couldn’t believe that Agatha wasn’t there. “Do you think she’s coming back?”
“Of course she’s coming back; she lives here. Why would she not come home? Has she ever not come home before?” he asked as she kicked the counter lightly with her toes.
“No, but she’s always here. She always works when I’m asleep or at least when Mom is here,” Violet said.
“She’ll be here tomorrow. I promise.” He hoped it was a promise he could keep because he hated that Violet was sad. “What did they name the baby?”
“Benjamin Lovely. Mom named him, like Emmaline.” She was still kicking the counter and he let her. She deserved to do what she wanted today.
“But not you?”
She grinned. “Nope, Agatha named me.”
“After a pretty flower.” He handed her another cookie.
“Nope, after the color. I’m an artist. Sometimes Agatha doesn’t see me, and she calls me ultraviolet.” She giggled.
“Agatha loves colors.” He had noticed it over the last few weeks. When she described something, it wasn’t red, it was auburn or brick or burgundy. His blue shirt had been azure, and his green shirt had been Turkish blue, not green.
