How to Keep a Secret

Nancy sat down on the edge of the bed and studied it. “Is it a pig?”

“It’s a goat. See what I mean? I should give up.” She made a grab for the pages but Nancy held them out of reach as she flicked through the text.

“Adventures with My Sister. You wrote down one of your stories?”

Jenna felt her cheeks burn. “I’ve been writing down a few of them. Some of the parents in my class wanted them to read to the children so I thought I might as well. I haven’t decided what to do with it yet.”

Mack peered over her shoulder. “My favorite was the one when the two sisters disrupted the ballet class.” She took the papers from her grandmother, kicked off her shoes and sprawled on the bed next to Jenna. “Your stories are great. Remember Fred and Alfred? Fred and Alfred were hilarious. And the dinosaur who was a fussy eater. Are you going to write them all down?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”

“You should.” Lauren sat on the bed, too, and Jenna shifted gingerly to make room.

It seemed her entire family was now on the bed with her, crowded either side of her like bookends.

Greg walked back into the room and she met his gaze.

The worried frown on his face made her heart warm. “Mom is seeing if she can rescue my terrible drawing. Or maybe it would be easier if I changed the goat in the story to a pig.”

“You have talent. I’ve always said so.” He put a mug of tea on the nightstand next to her.

“She has.” Nancy was reading over Mack’s shoulder. “Why haven’t any of us encouraged you to write them down before? These are engaging, funny, emotional. You make the reader care about these girls.”

Jenna felt herself flush. “Thanks, Mom. Shame I can’t illustrate to save my life.”

“You don’t need to be able to do both.” Nancy took the pages back from Mack. “They can partner you with an illustrator.”

“They?”

“A publisher.”

“You think someone might want to publish my stories?”

“I do. I know there are plenty of children out there who would enjoy them.” Nancy turned the pages over and picked up the pencil. “I’ve never drawn a goat either.” She sketched rapidly, eyes narrowed, her hand free and relaxed. Then she laughed. “Yours might look like a pig but mine looks like a unicorn.”

Mack leaned over her shoulder and studied it from every angle. “It’s not completely awful, Grams.”

“Thank you, honey. You’re so kind.”

Mack grinned. “We’re all about honesty now, remember?”

“I do. And I approve. Also, I agree. I don’t think I’m going to be illustrating your aunt’s books, but let me think about it. It’s a different art form. It isn’t as simple as drawing an excellent goat, it’s about conveying the movement, the naughtiness, the sense of adventure. The two girls getting themselves into trouble and then getting themselves out. Always together. That closeness has to be on the page.” She eyed Jenna and then Lauren. “Was this Mrs. Fallowfield’s goat?”

Jenna shrank against the pillows and Lauren blinked innocently.

“We have no idea what you mean, Mom.”

Nancy shook her head. “I’m not even going to ask how many of these stories are true. Instead let’s return to plans for our spa day—it’s safer. Let us know when you’re feeling stronger, and I’ll book a date.”

Greg eased himself away from the wall where he’d been leaning. “Jenna needs to keep things quiet for a while.”

“Greg the dragon.” Lauren smiled her approval. “Protector of my sister.”

“Don’t ask me to draw a dragon,” Jenna said.

Pain nagged at her side and she shifted slightly to make herself more comfortable.

Greg frowned. “Do you want meds?”