Two Under Par by Kevin Henkes Page B

with a real winner of an idea this morning,” she began, toying with one of her curls, her lips slowly curving up in a smile.
    â€œWhat is it, Sal?” King asked.
    â€œWell, it concerns all of us. And I think it’s real important. Especially because two families of two have become one family of four. . . .”
    I wish she’d get to the point, Wedge thought. He had taken a piece of bread from the bread box on the counter and was using it to soak up the syrup that was left on his plate. He was paying more attention to his sticky creation than to his mother, but when she finally announced what she had been working up to, he heard every horrible word.
    â€œSince I don’t have to be back to work for a week, I thought it might be nice if Andrew and I took a little trip together—to the Dells or to Madison or somewhere—to really get to know each other. And then, Wedge, you can be alone here with King. We’re going to have a whole lifetime together, so I think a week separated like that would be good for us. All of us.”
    Sally’s voice trailed off in Wedge’s mind, while his pancakes turned to rocks in his stomach. He thought he might cry if he wasn’t careful. It was bad enough to have a pair of scarecrows for a new father and brother, but to be alone with one of them for a week would be unbearable.
    â€œCould we go camping, Sally?” Andrew asked, twirling his fork in delight.
    â€œSure, sweetie,” Sally answered. “Well, Wedge, King—what do you think?”
    â€œThat’s what I call a short honeymoon,” King said, laughing. “But I can teach Wedge all about miniature golf—how to run a course. We’ll have a great time. Right, son?”
    Wonderful, Wedge thought. He rose from the table and ran to his room. He was speechless. Speechless because he didn’t know what to say. And because he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, nothing but a sob would come out.

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2. The Box
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    W edge locked his bedroom door (thank goodness he didn’t have to share his room with Andrew) and lay on his bed, his head buried beneath his pillow. “I’m not going to cry,” he repeated over and over to himself. “I’m not going to cry.” But it did no good. And once the tears started they flowed free and easy. If body size has anything to do with the amount of tears a person has stored inside, I’ll be here forever, Wedge thought absently. Maybe I’ll even drown.
    His drifting thoughts of self-pity were interrupted by a brisk knocking on the door. “Wedge? Open up, honey. Come on, Wedge. Let’s talk. Please?” Sally’s voice coaxed.
    Part of him wanted to ignore Sally—leave her behind the locked door along with her stupid idea—but a larger part of him needed her. Needed her now. Wedge walked to the door, wiping a few tears aside on the way. “Wedge,” she said, motioning with her arms for him to be hugged when he opened the door. “Oh, Wedge.”
    They worked their way over to Wedge’s bed. Sally pushed his hair out of his eyes and rocked him—back and forth, back and forth—as best she could. She hadn’t done this in years, and she knew she couldn’t do it very long, considering Wedge’s weight and her slender frame.
    â€œI just can’t be here with him . For a week. Alone .” Wedge’s voice was squeaking. “I just can’t. Don’t make me, Sally.”
    â€œWedge, honey, his name is King and he’s your father now,” Sally said gently. “You’ve finally got the one thing you’ve always wanted.”
    â€œI want my real dad.”
    â€œOh, Wedge, let’s not start this again. We’ve gone over it too many times already. You’ve never really had a father—and now you do. And King loves you and wants you to love him back. Let’s be happy. It’ll be okay. I promise.” Sally