Ten
Shit! Mom can’t find me here, reading these. She’ll go ballistic. If they weren’t a secret, they wouldn’t be hidden up here.
Why is she even here? Checking up on me?
I wouldn’t put it past her, but they weren’t supposed to be back for hours.
Quickly, I shove the letter back in the box, then pick it up and put the pink box back up on the shelf and rush to the top of the stairs.
The door opens and Mom starts up. “What are you doing?”
Why is she always suspicious? Okay, maybe only I think she’s being suspicious because I was almost caught doing something I probably shouldn’t be doing. If dust covered that box like everything else up here, I wouldn’t worry about it. But that pink box is clean. So clean that it could be sitting in the living room. Something is up. “You told me to clean from top to bottom.”
“You know I didn’t mean the attic.”
I just shrug. “I don’t assume anything. You know what they say, making assumptions makes an…”
“Enough!”
Mom comes up into the attic and looks around, pausing just a brief second when she looks at the area where the pink box is.
Something is definitely up.
Then she looks at me again.
I point to the tubs of decorations. “I got those all organized, but I don’t see why you don’t get rid of all the Easter, Halloween and Thanksgiving stuff. You never put it out anymore.” I don’t want her thinking about the pink box and pretend like I didn’t even notice it.
“So, I can get rid of the Easter baskets?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, not those, of course,” I quickly say. “John would be upset.” Not that any of us are young enough to believe in Santa or the Easter Bunny.
“Just John? Does that mean you won’t miss the chocolate?”
We get limited amounts of chocolate in the house or any sweets for that matter, with the exception of Easter, Halloween and Christmas. I make those treats last as long as possible too. “I was hasty. We need to keep the baskets.” Mom knows me too well. “I also took down the toys and games we don’t play anymore, and old clothes.” I shake my head. “I don’t know why you put them up here anyway.”
She sighs. “To deal with one day.”
I brush my hands together. “Well, one day arrived.” I grin.
“I saw,” she answers dryly. “All piled by the front door.”
“What else was I supposed to do with it?” Really, a thank you would be nice.
“Did you organize anything else?” she asks with curiosity.
“Nope. Didn’t get a chance.”
Her shoulders drop as if she’s relieved or something. “Well, let’s go get supper.”
“I thought you had dinner and a ballet.”
“Savannah got sick, and she’s running a fever so we came home.”
“That sucks.” For Savannah and me. If they are home, I won’t be able to sneak up here and read the letters.
“Your father and I still want to go to the ballet, but John is complaining about his stomach too.”
I snort.
“I agree,” she says. “We’ll just see how much he really wants to stay home once I tell him that he’s not getting the password to the computer or be able to watch TV until we get home.”
“Really? You’d make him suffer because I might do something fun?” This woman was a piece of work.
“That’s not it at all. At least not completely. If he’s too sick to go to the ballet, he’s too sick to get out of bed.” With that she grins and heads for the stairs. I stay where I’m at. Maybe she’ll leave so I can get back to reading.
“Come on. I don’t want you up here.”
I’ve never been banned from the attic before. Then again, it’s not like I even come up here unless we are hauling down decorations or putting them away.
“Mom, I was thinking, if I can get this cleaned up and make room, maybe I can move up here.”
She’s shaking her head before she answers. “You’re not living in the attic, Madison. You’ll live with the rest of the family.”
“But sharing a room with Savannah is a pain.”
“It’s only for the summer, and you should be thankful Brisa lets her use the room while she’s away at school.”
“But she’s messy, noisy and nosey.”
“It’s not so bad,” my mother insists. “Now come along. I don’t want you up here.”
“Did you forget she broke the bow to my violin?” I’m still pissed about that, even though it happened over a year ago.
“She’s older now and learned not to touch your things.”
I blow out a long sigh. “She’s always there. I can’t have a conversation with Peyton without her wanting to listen in.”
Mom’s eyes harden at Peyton’s name. Shit, I shouldn’t have mentioned my best friend.
“Come on. Help me with supper.”
“Fine!” I’ll go now, but I’m coming back to read more of those letters.
Eleven
“Where the hell is it?” I’ve looked everywhere for that damn key, but I can’t find it.
After waiting since Saturday night to get back to those letters, I finally had the chance when John and Savannah went to school and Mom and Dad went to work, except the door to the attic is locked!
John wasn’t faking about his stomach being upset. He was already puking when Mom and I went downstairs.
Worse, John missed when he aimed for the toilet, or didn’t quite get there in time. I worked my ass off in that bathroom, and in a matter of minutes, it was all gross again. At least mom cleaned it up. I couldn’t have done it. Just looking at it, and that horrible sour smell, made me gag.
Mom and Dad didn’t go to the ballet, and they didn’t leave the house on Sunday either. Because I wasn’t allowed to do anything else, including hiding in my room, I spent all of Sunday working though my list of chores, which was a pain with people in the
