Free Contessa by Lori L. Otto Page B

both of us keenly aware of my dad ’ s eyes watching us together as he sits alone on the front step of the patio.
    “ Hey, Dad, ” I call to him, “ where ’ s Trey? ”
    He stands up as he answers. “ He ’ s running a fever, so we put him to bed early. ” My brother had never been the healthiest child, a result of him being delivered six weeks early because of the difficulties my mom had faced in her pregnancy with him.
    “ So you ’ re just out here waiting for me? ”
    “ I guess I am, ” he answers, then directs his attention to Jon. “ Thanks for walking her home. ”
    “ No problem, sir. ”
    “ Did you need a ride home? ”
    “ No, my friends are waiting for me at the library. I ’ m good. ” He smiles at me and starts to back away. “ I ’ ll see you next Thursday, Livvy? ”
    “ Okay. Have fun studying. ”
    “ Definitely, ” he says sarcastically. “ Good night, Jack. ”
    “ Have a good week. Thanks again. ”
    “ You ’ re welcome, sir. ” He nods his head and turns around, beginning a slow jog up the street he and I just came from.
    “ How was class? ” Dad asks me, following me into the house.
    “ Fine. A couple of the kids were sick, too. Maybe there ’ s something going around. Can you give this to mom? ” I hand him her design book and put my stuff down next to the basement stairs, going back toward the kitchen to my brother ’ s room.
    “ Hey, brat, ” I say softly, entering his room when I see him tossing in his bed and throwing the blankets off. “ You ’ re not feeling well? ” I help him with the sheets, then press my hand to his forehead. “ Yeah, you ’ re hot. ”
    “ My head hurts, ” he complains.
    “ I can tell. I ’ m sorry. Want me to read to you or something? ”
    He raises his eyebrows, shocked by my question. “ Yeah, ” he says, not letting the opportunity pass him by. I pick up the book on his nightstand and turn to the dog-eared page. He moves over in his twin-sized bed to make room for me. I sit against the headboard, and he rolls over on his side so he can watch me. He always says I make funny faces when I read, and even though I think he ’ s just easily entertained, I take a few minutes to try to make him laugh. It works, but he ’ s asleep within ten minutes.
    “ Is he okay? ” Mom asks when I go into the kitchen.
    “ Yeah. This kind of puts a damper on Dad ’ s birthday dinner tomorrow, huh? ”
    “ Yeah, we might have to postpone if Trey ’ s not feeling better. ”
    “ Don ’ t do that, ” I tell her, seeing my exit strategy for a family dinner I wasn ’ t really looking forward to. “ Why don ’ t you and Dad go out, and I ’ ll stay here with Trey ? We ’ ll be fine. You ’ ll have your phone on you. ”
    “ No, there ’ s no way we could enjoy ourselves knowing he was here feeling awful. ” She looks at me as if I ’ ve grown a third ear. “ Wait, you want to babysit ? ”
    “ Well, ” I tell her, trying to play it cool. “ I mean, I don ’ t want Dad to have to spend his birthday here with a sick kid. ”
    “ You know your dad. You know he ’ d always rather be where his family is–especially if someone needs him. ”
    “ Think about it. Please? It ’ s not like he ’ ll be a lot of trouble, ” I tell her. “ He ’ ll probably just be in bed, right? I have to finish that stupid book this weekend, anyway. ”
    “ We ’ ll have to see how he feels. Definitely not if he has a fever. But it ’ s sweet of you to offer. ”
    “ No problem, Mom. ” I grab a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and hug my mother on the way out. “ I ’ m going to bed. ”
    “ It ’ s early, ” she says.
    “ I ’ m gonna read. ”
    “ Right. Okay, Livvy. Sleep well. ”
    “ Love you, Mom. Tell Dad good night, okay? ”
    “ I ’ ll send him down to tell you– ”
    “ No, it ’ s okay, Mom. I need to read. If he comes down there, he ’ ll just start back in on his John the Savage theories about Brave