Three Wishes by Juli Alexander Page B

talent. I had drums. Ian had guitar. And Dad had chili.
    “Delicious,” Mom said, wadding up her napkin and placing it strategically to hide most of the leftover chili.
    While Dad beamed at Mom, I used my second giant square of cornbread to shield my bowl. Then I hopped up and in the spirit of helping, rinsed out my bowl. I’d had a lot of practice getting large amounts of chili into the garbage disposal where no one could see it without turning it on.
    Mom jumped up right after me and guided her chili safely out of sight in the disposal.
    “You boys ready for more?” she asked, picking up the pot and ladle.
    Sean nodded.
    Ian said, “I think I’m full.”
    “Just a little,” Sean said when Mom scooped some into his bowl. “I’m almost full.”
    Dad grinned. “What’s my rating?”
    Sean always went first. “Seven.”
    “Six point five,” Ian said.
    “Ten,” Mom said. She always said ten.
    “Uh, nine,” I said, picking up the bread basket and some glasses. Even dad wouldn’t buy into a ten.
    “New recipe next week,” he said, getting up from the table with a grunt.
    “Uh, uh,” Sean said. “Next week is our turn.”
    Dad’s face dropped. He really liked his chili Sundays, but once a month, they let the boys try to outdo him.
    I didn’t mind so much because I didn’t have to eat more than a bite on those days. I didn’t mind hurting their feelings, and the chili was usually barely edible. Last month, they’d added pickles. Mom said it actually helped cut the Tabasco sauce a little.
    “Jen’s turn to help with the dishes,” Mom said.
    When Dad and the boys had left the room, Mom said, “If it gets much worse, we’re going to have to challenge them too. That way, we can eat something decent once a month.”
    I didn’t want to cook chili, but Mom was right. It might come down to life or death.
    She picked up the chili pan and waited for my signal.
    I glanced around for any sign of dad, then said, “You’re clear.”
    She poured three fourths of the leftovers down the sink. Then she scooped the rest into a small plastic container.
    “B-bye,” she said and turned on the garbage disposal.
    “He is a good dad,” I said when she finished. “I guess he’s worth it.”
    “He is,” Mom said, tweaking me on the nose. “Now get the rest of those bowls.”
    She grabbed the antacids from the top of the fridge. “Better start dosing myself.”
    We were just finishing up when the phone rang. I took another swipe at the counters as Mom answered.
    “Oh, yes, hi,” Mom said.
    She motioned that she’d be a while so I waved and headed out.
    I was curious about Leo. He’d gone back out last night after band practice. Maybe I should call him.
    When I got to my room, I fished the cheap phone out of my purse and thought about what I was doing. I didn’t have to worry that he’d think I had a crush on him. He’d know I was calling for a real reason.
    I don’t know why I didn’t want him to know I liked him. I just didn’t. I’d never let any guy know I liked him. Not on purpose. In fourth grade, Sheila Easterly had told Steven McGregor about my crush. After that, he’d avoided me.
    I shook my head. Just dial the number, Jen. Leo couldn’t avoid me. He needed me.
    Seconds later, Leo said, “Hello?”
    “Hi, um, how’s it going?” I stood in my room, unable to sit and relax.
    “Not good. Hold on.” I heard him talking to someone in the background, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
    “I’m back,” he said. It sounded like he’d gone outside. “They won’t let me in to see my father.”
    “What? Why not?”
    “Something about a seventy-two hour rule. They’re saying his hearing is on Wednesday.”
    “I thought it was next week.”
    “Yeah, it was.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t know what’s going on, Jen. But it isn’t good.”
    I didn’t know what to say. He only had until Wednesday to figure out what was going on? A team of investigators couldn’t work