The black shape crosses to his side of the bed and undresses in the darkness, then slips beneath the covers.
“You awake?” he whispers.
“Yes.”
“Sorry about earlier.”
“Me too.”
There is a long silence. “So…we OK?”
Are we? “I guess.”
Another pause. “Good night, Emily.”
“Good night.”
That’s it. No kiss. No embrace. Not even any resolution.
The bed is still cold…
Chapter 5
Cade
THE PRINCIPAL is standing inside the front door when I get to school. “Ahoy there, matey,” he says. “Be that Mr. Bennett beneath the eye patch?”
“It be indeed, Principal Smitty.”
Principal Smitty is a good guy. I’ll miss him next year when I move up to middle school. He’s very big on “spirit days” as a fun way to “kiss another school year good-bye,” as he likes to say, so every day during the last week of school has its very own theme. Monday was Make-Your-Own-Hat Day. To show my spirit, I wore a giant sombrero made of cardboard and scraps of linoleum I found in the basement, plus duct tape and bright blue glitter from Mom’s craft desk. The best part was that it stuck out at least a foot and a half from my head and poked people when I turned. For Tuesday’s Pajama Day I swiped one of Bree’s pink nightgowns and wore it over a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. I barely got past the front office before the vice principal, an old fart with crooked teeth, pulled me aside and made me take it off. Worse, he made me call my mom (for like the tenth time this year), just in case she’d forgotten what a “special” son she’s raising.
Wednesday and Thursday were Backward Day and Mismatched-Socks Day, but in protest over the whole nightgown thing I chose not to participate. This morning, though—the last day of school—the protest is over. How can I not participate in Talk-Like-a-Pirate Day?
This is the best day ever! And I’m a natural! With a little effort, I manage to stay in character all the way until the end of school. When the final bell rings, I’m having so much fun that I decide to see how long I can keep it up at home.
“Avast, woman,” I boldly tell my mom when I walk through the front door after getting off the bus. “I be home fer the summer. Have ye snacks to eat?”
“Ahoy, Cap’n Cadey,” she laughs. “Welcome home. How was your last day?”
“It be good…er, was good. But have ye no cookies or whatnot fer munchin’? I be a hungry pirate.”
“Sorry, kiddo. Not today. Your dad is on his way home right now, and he’s bringing a special surprise that I need to get ready for.” She turns to go, but stops halfway. “Which reminds me. I need you to find a sleeping bag and an extra pillow. You’ve been volunteered to give up your bed tonight.”
“Somebody else be sleeping in me bed?”
“Yes sir, Captain sir. We’ve got a stowaway for the night.” She winks and then speeds off to her bedroom.
What the heck is that supposed to mean? A stowaway? In my bed? “Arrgg,” I grumble as I go down to the bonus room in the basement.
Bree’s bus hasn’t arrived yet from the middle school, but like most days, Ann is sitting on the couch in front of the TV. “Hey Cade,” she says as I walk by. “You have a good day?”
I stop in place, eyeing her suspiciously, as any good buccaneer would do. “Aye.”
“Huh?”
“Aye, said I. It be Talk-Like-a-Pirate Day.”
“Oh. Wasn’t that just for school?”
Channeling Blackbeard, I growl, “It be fer as long as I want it to be fer!”
“Whatever.” She turns back to her daytime drama. When I come out of the storage closet a minute later and toss my favorite sleeping bag on the couch next to her, she looks away from the TV long enough to tell me I shouldn’t make a mess because Mom is cleaning the house in preparation for our trip.
It’s not too often that I know something that Ann doesn’t, so I jump at the chance to share the news. “She’s cleaning for a guest, not for our trip.”
Now I have her full attention. “Seriously?”
Oops…that didn’t sound like a pirate. “What I meants to say, is, yer old lady dun found a stowaway, and she be sleeping like Goldilocks in me bed ’til morn.”
Ann’s eyes bulge a bit. “Wow, you’re actually really good at that. Annoying, but good. But tell me you’re not serious. Someone is staying here? Tonight?”
“Aye. A surprise, said she. And I be booted to the couch like a filthy bilge rat.”