Free Anything You Want by Geoff Herbach Page B

a dandelion in the sun!
    At the suite we picked up the money I had stowed in the grocery kitty and walked over to the Piggly Wiggly, still making jokes and kissing every block or two. At the Pig, we bought her a very cheap hair dryer and a frozen pizza for our dinner. Back home we watched TV in the living room and ate pizza and held hands like a happy old married couple.
    At one point Maggie, whose head was resting on my shoulder, looked up at me and said, “Would you ever want to live by the ocean, Taco?”
    â€œOf course I would. If you’re there, the ocean is as beautiful as Wisconsin.”
    â€œI like whales,” she whispered. “I could be a marine biologist.”
    â€œThen I’ll clean the beach sand off our patio, and I’ll cook you pizzas for when you get home,” I said.
    â€œI really love you, Taco,” Maggie said.
    I loved that evening. All in all, even with the musical trouble and failing my calc quiz, it was the best day I ever had.

Chapter 10
    Maggie stayed at the master suite until Thursday night.
    On Wednesday after school, Mr. Corrigan came over with Misha and Molly and brought us a chicken dinner. That was good because I could’ve scrounged up some spaghetti and butter or something, but it wouldn’t have been top-notch, which is what Maggie expected in life. She’d been living with two parents who had money. I actually spent part of the afternoon having little anxiety attacks about what would happen when Maggie figured out we were essentially foodless at the house (not by my standards but by hers). Would she throw a big hissy fit and indict my character? I will never know because Mr. Corrigan and chicken came to the rescue!
    We ate at our dining room table. (I had to move Mom’s desktop computer, which blocked a third of the surface, and Darius was none too pleased when he got home and wanted to play Minecraft , which made me scared to ask him for some extra food money.) Misha and Molly stared at us while we ate as if Mags and I were wild creatures from space. They mostly stared at Maggie.
    Actually, I had to stare a little bit too. Maggie was jamming that chicken into her mouth like she’d just gotten out of jail or something, like that chicken was the best thing she’d ever chomped down.
    â€œYou eat like Cookie Monster,” Misha said.
    Molly laughed.
    â€œShut up,” Maggie said.
    â€œMaggie,” Mr. Corrigan said. “Be kind.”
    â€œSorry,” Maggie said.
    Then Mr. Corrigan said, “Have you been getting enough to eat, honey?”
    Maggie looked at me for a blink and then said, “I think so. Taco’s been really good about filling my plate, Dad. We had pizza last night and toast for breakfast.”
    â€œOkay,” Mr. Corrigan said. “But you need protein.”
    Of course, protein! She needed protein. And of course, I wanted to fill the plate of my pregnant girl. I wanted to mash her all the potatoes she could eat, grind her sausages, stir her cheese in a thousand stainless steel vats, but—money. How could I procure foodly riches for my queen without money? Well, I couldn’t. Duh.
    On Thursday after school, I’d hoped we’d find Darius at home. He always gave me money when we were running low on food. He acted pissed about it sometimes because we didn’t have much cash, but he still gave me some. But he wasn’t around, and the cupboards were bare—other than spaghetti.
    I tried to think. My personal piggy bank had dried up as soon as my allowance disappeared, which was when Mom died. I actually had a bank account with all my swimming pool money, but Darius took the ATM card and hid the passbook. He said that money was meant for me to go to college, not to use on burritos or whatever. I didn’t know what to do. I had no access to capital, and Darius was at work. We could’ve gone to Captain Stabby’s, I guess. But Maggie hated fish, and that place smelled