“Almost a week. Only eight more days until she comes home. “Is Mama coming home with him?” Tad asked me. He meant Angus. “I don’t know,” I said. Which was true. Tad shot me a wary glance out of his unblinking eyes. He thought I was lying. I can always tell when Tad thinks I’m lying. There’s something about that wary look of his that makes you think you might be lying even when you know you’re telling the truth. Pamela’s coming for supper again tonight. I think she invites herself. I don’t think ...my father wants her to come that often. “How come she doesn’t ask you to her house for supper?” I asked my father. “How come she doesn’t ask us all to her house? She always comes here.” I try not to let my father know how I feel about Pamela. I think I do a pretty good job of concealing my feelings. It’s not easy. “Pamela is probably the world’s worst cook,” my father said. “Well, then,” I said, “why doesn’t she learn? She could go to cooking school.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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