to laugh, he frowned. “Hey, kiddo,” he said in a low voice, “what’s up? Did I do something? Peel the carrots wrong? How many ways can there be to peel carrots?”
She was saved from answering by an impromptu game of catch between Jon and Milo, in which a loaf of French bread was the ball. Milo missed. The long, foil-wrapped loaf hit Ian in the small of the back and, their conversation forgotten, he whirled to join the game.
When she carried the steaming lasagna to the table, Jess had to maneuver around the ballplayers, still cavorting with the French bread. Linda came in, laughed at their antics, and went over to Jess. “Milo and I are going to the library together tonight,” she confided in a low voice. “What should I wear?”
The bread sailed past them, caught by Jon at the opposite end of the kitchen. “Touchdown!” he shouted in triumph.
“What should you wear to the library ?” Jess asked. “Well, spike heels, definitely, and if you have any diamond earrings, wear those and …”
“Jess!” Linda laughed. “Come on, be serious.”
The bread escaped from Trucker’s grasping hands and thunked into a large white ceramic goose stationed on top of the refrigerator. It toppled sideways and landed on its side with a clang.
“Okay, guys, cut it out!” Cath scolded sharply.
Jess sighed. Everyone else seemed more relaxed, but Cath was still strung tighter than a violin. She wasn’t eating much, and Jess suspected that she wasn’t sleeping, either. She certainly looked like she hadn’t been sleeping. There were dark circles under her eyes.
It wasn’t as if Jess didn’t understand how Cath felt. Cath’s privacy had been invaded, and Jess knew, now, what that felt like. It was horrible.
But Cath was letting it make her crazy. Ruining her first year at college. She looked like she might fall apart at any second.
“You’ll wreck something,” Cath told Milo. “Mrs. Coates has a lot of antique pieces in this house.”
“Yeah, right,” Milo said, sinking into a chair. “Antiques, spelled J-U-N-K.”
Cath sniffed. “I thought poets were supposed to appreciate the finer things in life.”
“I appreciate the finer things enough to know that stupid goose isn’t one of them.”
Jess found herself wishing that Cath would call a truce with Linda and Milo. Everyone else seemed to be getting along well, in spite of the tension caused by the stories of Giselle’s death and the recent vandalism. But it was obvious that Cath hadn’t forgiven Milo for the stolen essay, and equally obvious that Linda and Milo were on edge around Cath.
Remembering Ian’s quote about standing together, Jess thought, we should all be united now, trying to find out what’s going on around here. The vandalism involves everyone, even those people whose rooms haven’t been invaded yet. Because they still could be. We don’t have any reason to think that it’s over.
After dinner, Linda helped load the dishwasher. “I didn’t know Milo ever went to the library,” Jess said. “Are you sure he’ll know how to behave?”
Linda laughed and said, “Of course he will. Milo is a poet, Jess. He’s probably spent hours in libraries.”
“I still have trouble with the fact that Milo lied about knowing Giselle.” Jess knew the statement might rile Linda, but she had to say it. True, Milo had explained why he hadn’t mentioned knowing Giselle. And it made sense. But it still rankled that he hadn’t told them he’d known her.
“He didn’t lie. No one asked him if he knew her.”
“But he never volunteered the information. That’s almost the same thing. Even when Ian told us what happened to her, Milo never said a word.”
Linda’s cheeks reddened, and she was about to answer when Milo and Ian returned from hauling the trash to the bottom of the hill.
Jess had learned nothing.
When she went upstairs and passed Linda’s room, she found Linda’s door open. Linda was inside, primping in front of her dresser
She was saved from answering by an impromptu game of catch between Jon and Milo, in which a loaf of French bread was the ball. Milo missed. The long, foil-wrapped loaf hit Ian in the small of the back and, their conversation forgotten, he whirled to join the game.
When she carried the steaming lasagna to the table, Jess had to maneuver around the ballplayers, still cavorting with the French bread. Linda came in, laughed at their antics, and went over to Jess. “Milo and I are going to the library together tonight,” she confided in a low voice. “What should I wear?”
The bread sailed past them, caught by Jon at the opposite end of the kitchen. “Touchdown!” he shouted in triumph.
“What should you wear to the library ?” Jess asked. “Well, spike heels, definitely, and if you have any diamond earrings, wear those and …”
“Jess!” Linda laughed. “Come on, be serious.”
The bread escaped from Trucker’s grasping hands and thunked into a large white ceramic goose stationed on top of the refrigerator. It toppled sideways and landed on its side with a clang.
“Okay, guys, cut it out!” Cath scolded sharply.
Jess sighed. Everyone else seemed more relaxed, but Cath was still strung tighter than a violin. She wasn’t eating much, and Jess suspected that she wasn’t sleeping, either. She certainly looked like she hadn’t been sleeping. There were dark circles under her eyes.
It wasn’t as if Jess didn’t understand how Cath felt. Cath’s privacy had been invaded, and Jess knew, now, what that felt like. It was horrible.
But Cath was letting it make her crazy. Ruining her first year at college. She looked like she might fall apart at any second.
“You’ll wreck something,” Cath told Milo. “Mrs. Coates has a lot of antique pieces in this house.”
“Yeah, right,” Milo said, sinking into a chair. “Antiques, spelled J-U-N-K.”
Cath sniffed. “I thought poets were supposed to appreciate the finer things in life.”
“I appreciate the finer things enough to know that stupid goose isn’t one of them.”
Jess found herself wishing that Cath would call a truce with Linda and Milo. Everyone else seemed to be getting along well, in spite of the tension caused by the stories of Giselle’s death and the recent vandalism. But it was obvious that Cath hadn’t forgiven Milo for the stolen essay, and equally obvious that Linda and Milo were on edge around Cath.
Remembering Ian’s quote about standing together, Jess thought, we should all be united now, trying to find out what’s going on around here. The vandalism involves everyone, even those people whose rooms haven’t been invaded yet. Because they still could be. We don’t have any reason to think that it’s over.
After dinner, Linda helped load the dishwasher. “I didn’t know Milo ever went to the library,” Jess said. “Are you sure he’ll know how to behave?”
Linda laughed and said, “Of course he will. Milo is a poet, Jess. He’s probably spent hours in libraries.”
“I still have trouble with the fact that Milo lied about knowing Giselle.” Jess knew the statement might rile Linda, but she had to say it. True, Milo had explained why he hadn’t mentioned knowing Giselle. And it made sense. But it still rankled that he hadn’t told them he’d known her.
“He didn’t lie. No one asked him if he knew her.”
“But he never volunteered the information. That’s almost the same thing. Even when Ian told us what happened to her, Milo never said a word.”
Linda’s cheeks reddened, and she was about to answer when Milo and Ian returned from hauling the trash to the bottom of the hill.
Jess had learned nothing.
When she went upstairs and passed Linda’s room, she found Linda’s door open. Linda was inside, primping in front of her dresser
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