Antonia's Choice by Nancy Rue Page A

on the steering wheel, and thought,
Sid, you heinous beast.
    When we got home, Ben refused to take the blanket off. In the interest of any dignity Wyndham might have left, I scooped him up, burka and all, and deposited him in the family room. By the time I got back to the door from the garage, Wyndham already had her entire compliment of luggage in the kitchen, and she was sitting, toes turned inward, on one of the suitcases. I recognized it as the jumbo bag Mama had taken on her European tour.
    â€œWyndy, girl, we do have chairs,” I said. “Why don’t you pick a stool and I’ll fix you something to eat. You must be starving.”
    â€œI’m not that hungry,” she said, though she did trade the suitcase for the stool on the end.
    â€œWe can take your stuff upstairs after I get you fed. I mean, unless you want to go up right now and get settled. You’re probably tired, huh? Isn’t it amazing how just sitting on a plane for hours can wear you out?”
    I guess.
    Her eyes went to the counter, probably to keep me from seeing that she was rolling them. I was babbling, I knew. I felt like an idiot and sat down beside her.
    â€œLook, Wyndy—”
    â€œAunt Toni—” She looked up, her face wearing the M&M mask again. “Could you not call me that, please?”
    â€œO-kay,” I said slowly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to horn in on something special between you and the twins.”
    â€œJust call me Wyndham.”
    Her voice was sharp, her face hard. But in the next five seconds, both flipped through changes as if she were being remotely controlled.
    â€œI don’t mean to be rude,” she said. “It’s probably stupid—you can call me whatever you want.”
    â€œNo, Wyndham it is. I know how I feel when somebody calls me Antonia. Your grandmother is the biggest offender—”
    â€œCould we please not talk about her either?” Wyndham was by now boring a hole in the granite with her eyes. “I know I’m being rude.”
    â€œYou aren’t being rude.” I resituated myself on the barstool so I could face her. “But let’s talk about a couple of things we
can’t
avoid, okay?”
    I could feel her hardening again.
    â€œI’m not going to yell at you,” I said. “I’m not Nana—trust me.”
    She at least trusted me with a glance slanted in my direction.
    â€œI just want to hear your side of the story. We’re going to be together for a while.” I looked at the pile of luggage and grinned. “
Quite
a while, from the looks of things, and I don’t think we should waste our energy sidestepping the obvious. There’s an elephant in the room and we can’t ignore it.”
    I let a silence fall. Wyndham visibly squirmed, until sheapparendy figured out I wasn’t going to say anything else unless she responded.
    â€œI just have to know one thing, then,” she said. “I mean—if it’s all right.”
    Note to self: Do something about this child’s confidence level before she frustrates me right into a bottle of Valium!
    â€œGo for it,” I said. “I can already tell you it’s all right.”
    Even at that, she played with her fingers and wiggled her foot until I thought I would scream.
    â€œI just have to know if you believe me,” she said finally.
    â€œI’ll tell you what I don’t believe. I don’t believe that you’re making this whole thing up. Obviously, there are some real gaps in what I’ve been told, though. I want to hear what you have to say.”
    Wyndham nodded slowly. She, too, sat taller in the chair and straightened her shoulders and tilted up her chin. The words
Assume the position
came to mind.
    Then she said, “I knew for a while what my father was doing and I went to my mom and she said I was lying and so I got some proof so she would believe me because I didn’t