Free Dragonfly Secret by Carolyn J. Gold

cake? He just meant it wasn’t good for us. Not that she was really trying to poison him. But that’s just the sort of thing they’d tell a judge.”
    She gazed out the window for a minute, to where one of the climbing roses had clawed its way up to peek around the window frame like a fat pink face. “Then there’s the matter of the fairies,” she said.
    I waited. I wasn’t sure what she was going to say, and I didn’t want to make things any worse than they already were.
    â€œMiss Ryderson may feel that your grandfather is losing his grip on reality. It isn’t believing in fairies that matters. It’s whether he can tell what’s real and what’s make-believe.”
    She looked down at her coffee cup, as if she’d suddenly remembered it was there. She tried to smile. “Whatever she’s going to say, we’ll find out soon. Before she left yesterday she said she didn’t think she needed any more tests or observation. I guess we may as well enjoy ourselves until we hear from her.”
    â€œCould we go out to the farm for the day?” I asked, thinking of the fairies. “We could take a picnic lunch and take a better look around than we did last time. I think Gramps would like that, and he said the man who rented the pasture didn’t mind.”
    I looked at her expectantly, but she shook her head. “I have a doctor’s appointment this morning. It’s only a routine checkup, but I won’t be able to do anything else until this afternoon. When I get home we’ll see what your grandfather wants to do.”
    Even though it was a beautiful day, nobody was in a very good mood. We sat around the house looking glum until Mother left for her appointment. I guess we all thought the same thing: Miss Ryderson would make her report in a day or so and that would be the end of our good times together.
    After Mother left, Jessie brought the coffee can into the front room and let Willow climb out on her hand. The rose was beginning to wilt, so I went outside and cut another one, the pink one that had peered in the kitchen window.
    I took the yellow rose out of the can gently, and carried it over to where Gramps was sitting in his old chair, frowning around the unlit pipe he held clamped between his teeth.
    â€œWill you hold this rose while I put the fresh one in the can?” I asked, holding out the wilted yellow blossom. He took it hesitantly, like a new father, all gruff and gentle at the same time. He brushed back a petal to get a better look at the baby fairy.
    â€œWhat did you kids say you named the little runt?”
    â€œReed,” I said, busy cutting the stem of the pink rose to fit in the can.
    Gramps grunted. “Weed is more like it. Them blue-green wings and that stick of a body . . .”
    His voice trailed off. I looked over and saw him gazing down at the tiny creature in his hand. It waved one chubby fist and tried to roll over, but its wings were awkward among the petals.
    The pipe drooped in Gramps’s mouth and his lips curved into a smile. “Kind of cute, ain’t he?”
    All of a sudden I couldn’t stand it. “I wish we’d never found them,” I said, wanting to shout. “I wish they’d stayed in their dumb swamp and left us alone. Why should you have to go away just because of a couple of . . . of dumb dragonflies?”
    â€œNathan!” Jessie said, her voice sharp with shock. “You take that back!”
    Gramps held up the hand that wasn’t holding the fairy. “Hush, Jess, it’s all right. Nate’s upset, same’s the rest of us.”
    He turned to me. “This thing with Miss Ryderson’s got nothing to do with Willow and her kid, Nathan. Maybe Louise is right, and it’s time to admit I’m getting on toward old. Maybe she ain’t. But finding these two . . . Well, they may not be magic like people think fairies