The King of Jam Sandwiches by Eric Walters

Author:Eric Walters
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459825581
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2020-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

Mrs. Watson—she had asked me to call her Darlene—had a snack waiting for us. It had taken three more days of Harmony hounding me on the walk home before I’d agreed to go in. Giving in was the only way to get her to stop asking.

Mrs. Watson seemed very nice and made me feel welcome, but I was still a little anxious. I tried to chew with my mouth closed and keep my elbows off the table. It had a tablecloth on it, and there was a bowl of fruit in the middle. There were nice pictures on the walls and nice furniture. Everything was nice. The place was clean and tidy. It even smelled clean and tidy. Everything about it seemed so normal. Not normal like my house but normal like my friends’ places, and filled with normal things. Including the food. Food was normal. Rows of cans hidden in the basement wasn’t. This foster home wouldn’t be the worst place to end up.

Mrs. Watson poured me a second glass of lemonade without even asking if I wanted one.

“Thank you,” I said.

She was older, smiley and very friendly. Harmony had told me that Darlene and her husband had three kids—two were married and the youngest was away at trade school. Her husband, Frank, was an electrician.

“Are you sure you don’t want another cookie or two?” she asked.

“Before he says no, he actually does want some more,” Harmony said. She grabbed three more off the plate Mrs. Watson was holding out and put them on my plate.

“Thank you.”

“Such good manners,” Mrs. Watson said. “That’s a sign your father raised you right.”

It was also a sign that Harmony had told her about my having a father but no mother. Otherwise she would have said parents.

“It’s just so wonderful to have Harmony bring home her, um, friend.”

I could tell by the way she said it that she was wondering if it should be boyfriend. Most of the kids at school thought that as well. I worked hard not to think about it. Neither Harmony nor I said anything, and there was silence in the room—which Mrs. Watson quickly broke.

“Harmony talks about you all the time.”

I looked over at Harmony. Was she blushing?

“I already know you’re the smartest, most serious student in the class, you work part-time at the Priamos’ butcher shop and you’re a basketball star.”

“We just lost the first game of the season, so not so much a star,” I said.

“He got a double-double,” Harmony said. “Robert did his part.”

“We still lost.”

“And modest too,” said Mrs. Watson. “Does your father ever go to see you play?”

“Uh…his work is on the other side of the city, so he can’t get there on time to watch.”

Even if he worked near the school, he probably wouldn’t come. I wouldn’t have wanted him to be there anyway.

“He must be very proud of you,” Mrs. Watson said.

I hadn’t even bothered to tell him I was on the team. If I had, one of two things would have happened, neither of them good.

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