rhythm, a way of testing them. The silence, as short as
it was, made the three boys uncomfortable. They
gazed quickly at each other, squirmed in their clothes
and looked from me to my mother to the floor and
then back to Daddy.
"I brought her some notes from classes she's
missed, too," Peter added reaching into his pants
pocket to produce some papers.
"That's very thoughtful," Mother finally said. "Aren't you boys afraid of getting sick
yourselves so close to the end of the school year?"
Daddy questioned, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "No sir," Arnold replied quickly.
"We won't get that close to her," Quin added,
digging the corner of his mouth deeper into his cheek.
Peter widened his smile.
"I hope not," Daddy muttered. "Olivia," he said
turning to me. I knew what that meant. He wanted me
to show them to Belinda's room and remain as a chaperone.
I rose with obvious reluctance.
"Maybe she's asleep," I said.
"She knows we're coming," Quin quickly
inserted. "We called earlier and told her we'd be here
about now."
"She should have told us, too," I muttered,
gazing at Daddy. He nodded his agreement but said
nothing more. Instead, he went to his newspaper and
then plucked one of his cigars out of the case on the
table beside him.
"Are those Havana cigars, Mr. Gordon?" Peter
asked as Daddy began to light it.
Daddy raised his eyebrows.