Switch

puled out a pad of paper and his pen rested on it, though

he wasn't writing. I wiped the spots and tossed the paper

in the trash, then leaned over his shoulder to look at the list

as yet unwritten.

'Start with your e-mail,' I said. He wrote it down. 'Then sort through the mail in your in-box. Take care of what

needs done with those things.'

He wrote that down, too, and the rest of the instructions I

gave him.

'Send me home early,' I added, and he looked up, the

scratching of pen ceasing. 'I have to be able to pick up my

little brother from the after-school-care program every day

this week. I'l need to leave by three, al right? I'l go

without a lunch break and come in earlier if I have to.'

Paul slowly wrote down, Paige leaving early, and looked

Paul slowly wrote down, Paige leaving early, and looked

up at me again. 'No, you don't have to. Just make sure

your work's done.' Another pause. 'As if I need to tel

you.'

I leaned closer, just a bit, to say in a low voice, 'Write it

down in a list for me. It wil make you feel better.'

I left the office with Paul's chuckle ringing in my ears.

Chapter 32

'Can we have macaroni and cheese for dinner? Please?'

Arty clung to my hand like the monkey I'd always caled

him, then lifted his feet off the ground, so I staggered from

his sudden weight.

'Cut it out.' I shook him off and set down my overnight

bag.

The living room smeled like my mom's perfume and

something else. Old Chinese food, maybe. I'd have to do a

search. My mom had been known to set down a container

or plate next to the couch while she watched TV and

forget about it. Arty tossed his shoes, coat and book bag

onto the floor by the front door in an amazing one-two-

three slingshot move I wouldn't have believed possible had

I not seen it in front of me. He was already off and running

toward the kitchen when I caled him back.

'Pick that stuff up!' I pointed.

'I need a snack!'

I happened to know they fed him at his after-school

I happened to know they fed him at his after-school

program, because my mom had told me how great it was

not to worry about him being hungry when she picked him

up. 'Have a piece of fruit.'

Arty stopped in midleap, so fast he skidded on the worn

carpet in the kitchen doorway. 'Fruit?'

'Mom doesn't make you eat fruit?'

He made a face like I'd asked him to eat dung. 'But I

wanted a Doodle.'