“Read a book. That kept people entertained for centuries.”
“Before electricity, you mean,” I grumble.
“Exactly!” Her smile is too bright. I think she enjoys punishing me. “If the pioneers survived, so will you.” With that she leaves. “Don’t forget to lock the door,” is the last thing she says to me.
“I won’t,” I call. You’ll never know I was in the attic.
Twelve
I’ve got to be smart about this. I don’t trust that Mom won’t show up at any given time. Just because she has a meeting doesn’t mean it will be a long one. Plus, she might check on the key or even check the box, so I can’t take it to my room. But, I can’t stay in the attic and read either because I won’t hear anyone come in the front door.
After taking the box from the shelf, I study the letters. Really, all I see are lined up envelopes.
That’s it! I have envelopes in my room. It was a class project my eighth grade year. We were all given a pen pal in another state and we couldn’t email, text or use any social media. We had to write letters, address envelopes, put a stamp on them and drop them in a mailbox. I’d never written a letter until that assignment, which I guess was the entire point.
I still have a box of envelopes in my bottom drawer and that’s how I’m going to fool Mom. Unless she decides to open up the envelopes, she’ll never know the letters are gone.
I could just take the letters out, but I don’t want to get them out of order. This solution is perfect!
After retrieving the envelopes, I take out enough letters that take up the same space then return the box to the shelf. Then I lock the attic again, put the letters in my room, hiding them in the envelope box in my desk and then return the key. I’m just about home free, ready to go, heading up the stairs to my room, when Dad walks in.
This is a freaking conspiracy.
“Hey, honey.”
“Hey, Dad.” I want to ask why he’s home early but I’m afraid he’ll see right through me. The man is a detective, a Captain and all. It’s his job to break criminals and sniff out liars and thieves.
He groans as he takes off his coat.
“You okay?” I come back down the stairs.
“I think I got what John and Savannah had this weekend.”
“That sucks.” I take a step back. I don’t want those germs. I avoided my brother and sister, and now I’m going to avoid my dad.
“Make me some tea and toast, okay? I’m going to bed.”
“Sure.” I lean back as he passes me on the stairs.
“Don’t blame you.” He chuckles as he heads up. “I’d avoid me too.”
It sucks that my dad is sick, and it sucks that he is home. I can’t read those letters now. What if he needs something? What if he comes to my room?
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear this family is conspiring against me. Or the flu. Or both!
Thirteen
“Happy Birthday!” Mom says as she comes in my room. I rub the sleep from my eyes and sit up. Dad, John and Savanah are with her. This is a tradition. Breakfast in bed, and presents first thing in the morning on your birthday.
Dad’s dressed for work. “Are you better?”
“Yep. It was short lived, just like the kids, thank goodness.”
Great! Nobody will be home today and I can finally read those letters. I didn’t dare last night. Paranoia set in and I knew that as soon as I got them out of my desk, Mom would come in my room and I’d be caught.
“We hate to rush this, but it is a school day,” she apologizes.
“That’s okay.” She’s made my favorite. A bowl of goodness! Hash browns on the bottom, bacon, scrambled eggs and cheese on the top. She’s also made a small bowl of fruit, with my favorites: strawberries, raspberries, orange segments and banana slices.
“Well, open your presents,” John bounces on my bed.
Actually, there aren’t any actual boxes, just cards. The first one I open is from John. A silly card with a gift certificate to Baskin-Robbins. Gold Medal Ribbon is what got me into trouble. My guess is that Mom bought it before I left that music competition. I know John didn’t go shopping.
The next envelope is a silly card from Savannah with a gift card to my favorite bookstore. If I could leave the house, I’d go buy ice cream and books, but I can’t yet.
The last is a mushy card from my parents. They’ve given me a $50 gift card to my favorite music store. It carries everything I need from rosin for my bows to sheet music for all the instruments I play, and blank staff paper so I can write my own music. “Thanks.” I finally say. “These are perfect.”
“Well, eat up before your breakfast gets cold and enjoy your day.” Mom hugs me. “We’ll have cake and ice cream with dinner.”
I dive into the food as soon as they are gone, while I listen to them leave the house. They left my door open, and it’s right outside of the top of the stairs so I can hear everything. By the time I’ve emptied the bowl, scooping up the last of the hash browns, there is nothing but silence in the house. After plopping the last strawberry into my mouth, I take my plate to the kitchen. Mom may have cooked breakfast, but she didn’t clean up after herself.
I could leave them, and go read the letters, or I could clean first.
As much as I don’t want to wait to read, I get the kitchen cleaned and the dishes washed and wipe up everywhere there is a mess. Usually I don’t care, but since I was the
