seemed to shift with that single word, in the quiet space between us. At school, he was larger than life. But here it was just the two of us away from the eyes and remarks of the other kids. Despite my fantasies of being his girl, this was the part I really wanted, the two of us alone, away from our families and the world.
“That was just beautiful, Addie,” Mrs. Connally said as she appeared on the stairwell. Then she stopped. “Charlie, I thought you were helping with your father.”
He tore his gaze from me, then cleared his throat. “I was, but I ran into Coach and he said there’s a scout from Georgetown coming tomorrow. I want to get in some extra practice.” Though football season had ended weeks earlier, Charlie continued to work on his game with a few of the fellows, hoping to catch the eye of one of the colleges.
“Georgetown? That’s great, honey, but...” Conflict washed across Mrs. Connally’s face. I suspected they couldn’t afford a school like that. “Maybe somewhere closer.”
“There are scholarships, Mom.” I knew Charlie had never even contemplated forgoing college for a job at the factory as his father had, or even applying to a lesser school. He had always known he was meant for something great. “I’ve gotta go.” He disappeared upstairs.
A minute later Jack walked in with Robbie in tow. “Dad’s still at church finishing up,” he told his mother. “Hi, Ad.”
I followed them to the kitchen. “Addie, the boys had sandwiches at church. Have you eaten?” I nodded, thinking of the leftover gefilte fish and reheated soup from Shabbes that was a Sunday staple at my aunt and uncle’s. She pulled a carton from the icebox. “Chocolate or vanilla?”
“Both!” Robbie interjected.
“Not too much. I’m putting in the roast and dinner is at four.” Mrs. Connally handed me a bowl.
“Thank you.” I broke off a bit with my spoon. Ice cream here was harder than Nonna’s creamy gelato. It almost needed to be cut.
“I spilled!” Robbie wailed as his ice-cream bowl tipped, sending a creamy pool onto the linoleum.
Jack quickly set the bowl straight and scooped some of his own into it, evening things out as he so often did. “Want some help with the science homework after this?” he asked me.
“Sure,” I said, grateful for the excuse for having come over later.
“Can I help, too?” Robbie asked eagerly.
Jack knelt by his brother. “How ’bout you give us a little while, and then maybe we can all play dominoes?”
“Marbles,” Robbie sniffed.
“All right, but no cheating,” Jack teased.
But Robbie’s face was serious. “I’m going to beat you, fair and square.”
“Why don’t you let the dog out first?” Mrs. Connally suggested to Robbie.
He leapt up, whistling for Beau. “Come on, boy.”
When he was out of earshot, Mrs. Connally turned to Jack. “Have you seen your brother?”
“Which one?”
“Haha, wise guy. Where’s Liam?”
Jack shrugged. “I’m not his babysitter.” But worry creased his face. Though Liam hadn’t been in any more trouble since the fight in school nearly two months earlier, he was more withdrawn and absent than ever.
“Jackie,” his mother pressed. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He was hanging out with some of the fellas.” He did not sound as though he was talking about the kids from church.
Mrs. Connally cringed. “I told him to come home right after you were finished.”
“I know. I reminded him. He told me to mind my own business.” I followed Jack up the stairs. Through an open door, I could see where Robbie had constructed a giant city out of his blocks, using cardboard boxes when he ran out. He loved to build and Jack loved to read, and Charlie loved football—but what did Liam love? Perhaps it was the lack of a passion that stirred him to trouble.
“I’m worried about Liam,” Jack confided when we reached the room he and his twin shared.
“You should be. He’s gone from school more often
Richard H. Pitcairn, Susan Hubble Pitcairn