As tired as he was, the day’s long to-do list hit him like a splash of cold water. It scrolled through his brain.
Wake up. Finish studying for his statistics test. Get Lena and Anton to school. Hit the apple orchard with Leo and Mr. Cecchino. Drive to the junior college for his math, English, and communication classes. Hustle over to the radio station for his janitorial job and possibly devise a way to bump into the studio president and introduce himself. Then home to study.
Someday, when he was finished with school and he had a morning show deejay job, he wouldn’t have to cram thirty-six hours into a twenty-four-hour day.
His feet hit the cold floor of the converted utility room. Across from his bed was a chest of drawers and a bookshelf stacked with school books. Besides his car, everything he owned was in that dresser and on the bookshelf.
He shucked off his T-shirt and changed into his black jeans and blue denim work shirt. The long sleeves would protect him from the bugs and sharp branches in the orchard.
He pushed back the curtain sewn for him by Nonna Cecchino. The thick cotton separated his tiny sanctuary from the rest of the utility room. Shoving his feet into his Converse, he walked past the washer and dryer and into the kitchen.
Dal was satisfied to find the kitchen empty. It was hard to beat Nonna Cecchino into the kitchen. He had to get up at four-thirty if he wanted Nonna to have hot coffee when she woke up.
Once the coffee pot was brewing, he straddled a kitchen chair and spread out his statistics book and notebook in front of him. He flipped to a page of problems and began to work through them.
“Dallas.” Nonna Cecchino shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes later, pink curlers in her gray hair. Pink flannel pajamas covered a lean figure. She was the matriarch of the Italian Cecchino family. She surveyed Dal at the kitchen table through the black-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose.
“Morning, Nonna.”
“What are you doing up so early?”
“Studying. I have a test today.”
“But you studied until one in the morning.”
Dal shrugged without reply. Nonna beamed at him. “If only my Anton had your work ethic.”
Dal did his best not to react to the compliment, even though it filled him up more than a warm meal ever could.
“I’ll cook you breakfast.” Nonna poured two generous cups of coffee, plopping one in front of Dal. The creamer and bowl of sugar followed the coffee cup. “A young man who works as hard as you do needs a proper breakfast.”
“Thanks, Nonna.” Dal dropped two lumps of sugar into his coffee, followed by a healthy pour of cream.
He loved when Nonna Cecchino cooked for him, though it made him self-conscious. She treated him like one of her grandkids, even though he was technically a guest in the Cecchino house. Not only did they let him live here for free, but they never thought twice about letting him eat their food, either.
Within minutes, bacon was frying in Nonna’s cast iron pan. The crack of egg shells filled the quiet morning as she dropped them into a pan beside the bacon. A minute later, slices of bread went into the toaster.
By the time Dal finished two pages of practice math, Nonna set steaming plates of eggs and bacon onto the table.
“Morning, Nonna.” Mr. Cecchino yawned as he entered the kitchen. In his mid-fifties, the man was lean like his mother from a lifetime of hard work. His dark hair and mustache were streaked with a generous amount of gray.
Like Dal, he was already dressed in his work clothes. The orchards were bursting with apples. There was a long day of labor ahead of them.
“Get your breakfast before it gets cold,” Nonna replied by way of greeting.
Mr. Cecchino winked at Dal. “Yes, Nonna.” He grabbed a plate and sat down across from Dal. “How’s the studying going, son?”
“Good.” Dal closed the book and set it on the floor with his notebook. “I just wanted to get in one more study session before my test today.”
“You know it’s okay to skip a day in the orchard if you need more study time.” Mr. Cecchino heaped a generous portion of eggs and bacon onto his plate, along with a few slices of toast.
No way would Dal ever, ever skip a day in the orchard. He knew the orchard didn’t bring in the money it used to. The proliferation of apple farms in the area had driven down prices in recent years. Dal’s own family—his biological family—suffered from the glut as much as the Cecchino family.
“Nah.” Dal shot a mischievous grin at Leo as his best friend stomped into the kitchen. “Who will keep Leo from slacking off if I’m not there?”
Leo, still blinking sleep from his eyes, had enough wherewithal to register the insult. “Did someone order a pot of coffee poured in his lap?”
Mr. Cecchino chuckled and helped himself to another scoop of eggs. Nonna added a platter of toast to the table as the twins, Anton and Lena, appeared in the kitchen.
Lena’s dark brown hair was pulled into a side ponytail. Friendship bracelets woven by her friends adorned both wrists. She wore tight black pants with neon-colored leg warmers that were all the rage these days. Her baggy fluorescent pink T-shirt, which was the same color as her leg warmers, was knotted on one side. She might not dance anymore, but it was impossible to miss her dancer’s legs in those tight pants. Dal did his best not to notice.
“Morning, Nonna.” Lena gave Nonna a hug before sliding into a chair at the table. She elbowed Dal. “You look like you got a good night’s sleep.”
He elbowed her back. “Were you planning to walk to school today?”
She grinned good-naturedly at him before filling her plate with food.
Anton had
