talk to my dad.”
Del shakes his head. “You are a daddy’s girl.”
I ignore the comment. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”
“Oh, you couldn’t?” He grins. “I’m flattered. Want to come in?”
“I can’t.” I really do have to get ready. “Just … look, I can’t talk much at dinner. My dad wants me to sit at his table. But I wanted to make sure you were coming by tonight.”
He studies my expression. “Emily? Is anything wrong?”
“Are you coming tonight?”
He nods. “Yes. Sure, I am.”
“Then everything’s fine.” I stand on my tiptoes, leaning forward to give him a kiss before I begin to back away. “Everything’s perfect.”
chapter seven
During Friday morning’s school announcements, we learn that Mr. Henry, the intern, has come down with double pneumonia. Our announcements are personal like that. My dad’s secretary, Paula, does them over the loudspeaker in her office. After she tells everyone about his pneumonia, she adds that it would be nice if we made him a card.
For some reason, Franny gets it in her head that we should make him soup. From scratch . She doesn’t actually ask the rest of the quad if we’re interested in helping; instead, she goes to the store on her own early Saturday morning and returns with three grocery bags full of food.
Stephanie, Grace, and I are sitting on my bedroom floor, studying vocab words for English class.
Stephanie doesn’t look up from her cards. “Whatcha gonna do with all that food, Franny? You sure as hell aren’t going to eat it yourself.”
When Franny tells us about the soup, we all stare at her for a few seconds. Then we start laughing.
“What?” Franny asks. “What the hell’s so funny?”
“Franny,” Grace says, “I’ve never even seen you boil water. Have you ever cooked anything ?”
Her bottom lip trembles a smidge. “I thought it would be a nice thing to do for him. He has double pneumonia, you guys.”
“I know,” Stephanie says. “We made him a card in my Latin class.”
“You did?” I ask, frowning at her. “In Latin?”
“Yes,” she says. “It said Get Well Soon. In Latin.”
“He’s my study hall proctor,” Franny continues, raising her voice. “He’s always nice to me. I like him.” Tugtugtug .
“Franny,” I tell her, “we can’t make that in the kitchenette. There isn’t enough space.” It’s true; all we have downstairs is a tiny electric stove, a minifridge, and a microwave.
“I know that, Emily.” Tug . “We’re not using the kitchenette. We’re using your parents’ house.”
My mouth falls open. “How are we going to do that?”
Franny is pleased with herself. “I talked to your mom about it at breakfast.” She shifts her gaze to Stephanie. “And Latin is a dead language, you know. It’s completely useless.”
Steph flicks a vocab card at her. “Not if I’m going to be a doctor, it isn’t.”
“Ha!” Grace blurts. “There’s no way you’ll get into medical school. You’re going to be an aerobics instructor.”
Franny covers her mouth as she giggles.
“You’re awful. I can’t stand any of you,” Stephanie announces. She frowns. “I could be a doctor if I wanted to.”
“Sure you could,” Grace says. “And Emily could be an astronaut.”
I don’t even pretend to be offended.
Grace and Stephanie keep arguing all the way to my parents’ house. My mom is waiting for us.
“This is so sweet of you, girls,” she says. My mom isn’t wearing any makeup yet, but she still looks pretty.
She gave Franny a list at breakfast with everything we’d need to make chicken noodle soup. Before we begin, my mom makes us strawberry milk shakes. The four of us sit at the kitchen table, drinking through bendy straws, while my mom helps us get started.
First, she puts the chicken in a pot of water on the stove. Then she starts chopping vegetables in the food processor. We’re still watching.
“What are you girls doing this weekend?” she asks.
The
Del shakes his head. “You are a daddy’s girl.”
I ignore the comment. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”
“Oh, you couldn’t?” He grins. “I’m flattered. Want to come in?”
“I can’t.” I really do have to get ready. “Just … look, I can’t talk much at dinner. My dad wants me to sit at his table. But I wanted to make sure you were coming by tonight.”
He studies my expression. “Emily? Is anything wrong?”
“Are you coming tonight?”
He nods. “Yes. Sure, I am.”
“Then everything’s fine.” I stand on my tiptoes, leaning forward to give him a kiss before I begin to back away. “Everything’s perfect.”
chapter seven
During Friday morning’s school announcements, we learn that Mr. Henry, the intern, has come down with double pneumonia. Our announcements are personal like that. My dad’s secretary, Paula, does them over the loudspeaker in her office. After she tells everyone about his pneumonia, she adds that it would be nice if we made him a card.
For some reason, Franny gets it in her head that we should make him soup. From scratch . She doesn’t actually ask the rest of the quad if we’re interested in helping; instead, she goes to the store on her own early Saturday morning and returns with three grocery bags full of food.
Stephanie, Grace, and I are sitting on my bedroom floor, studying vocab words for English class.
Stephanie doesn’t look up from her cards. “Whatcha gonna do with all that food, Franny? You sure as hell aren’t going to eat it yourself.”
When Franny tells us about the soup, we all stare at her for a few seconds. Then we start laughing.
“What?” Franny asks. “What the hell’s so funny?”
“Franny,” Grace says, “I’ve never even seen you boil water. Have you ever cooked anything ?”
Her bottom lip trembles a smidge. “I thought it would be a nice thing to do for him. He has double pneumonia, you guys.”
“I know,” Stephanie says. “We made him a card in my Latin class.”
“You did?” I ask, frowning at her. “In Latin?”
“Yes,” she says. “It said Get Well Soon. In Latin.”
“He’s my study hall proctor,” Franny continues, raising her voice. “He’s always nice to me. I like him.” Tugtugtug .
“Franny,” I tell her, “we can’t make that in the kitchenette. There isn’t enough space.” It’s true; all we have downstairs is a tiny electric stove, a minifridge, and a microwave.
“I know that, Emily.” Tug . “We’re not using the kitchenette. We’re using your parents’ house.”
My mouth falls open. “How are we going to do that?”
Franny is pleased with herself. “I talked to your mom about it at breakfast.” She shifts her gaze to Stephanie. “And Latin is a dead language, you know. It’s completely useless.”
Steph flicks a vocab card at her. “Not if I’m going to be a doctor, it isn’t.”
“Ha!” Grace blurts. “There’s no way you’ll get into medical school. You’re going to be an aerobics instructor.”
Franny covers her mouth as she giggles.
“You’re awful. I can’t stand any of you,” Stephanie announces. She frowns. “I could be a doctor if I wanted to.”
“Sure you could,” Grace says. “And Emily could be an astronaut.”
I don’t even pretend to be offended.
Grace and Stephanie keep arguing all the way to my parents’ house. My mom is waiting for us.
“This is so sweet of you, girls,” she says. My mom isn’t wearing any makeup yet, but she still looks pretty.
She gave Franny a list at breakfast with everything we’d need to make chicken noodle soup. Before we begin, my mom makes us strawberry milk shakes. The four of us sit at the kitchen table, drinking through bendy straws, while my mom helps us get started.
First, she puts the chicken in a pot of water on the stove. Then she starts chopping vegetables in the food processor. We’re still watching.
“What are you girls doing this weekend?” she asks.
The
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