Free Mistletoe Magic by Lynn Patrick Page A

to getting her own way so frequently. From what she’d gathered from Louise and Rafe, things had not always been like this. Both adults felt sorry for the child, who had cried at night for months after her mother left. Unfortunately, their desire to grant her every wish was severely spoiling her.
    In the hallway Melissa glanced toward Hank’s doorway, listening to the clicking sounds issuing from within.
    “That’s Hank’s computer,” Gretta said proudly. “He’s smart.”
    “I know.” Rafe had told Melissa about the high grades his son always brought home from school.
    “Want to see it?” Not waiting for an answer, Gretta grabbed Melissa’s hand and pulled her through the door.
    Seated at a long, modern wood desk, Hank warily looked up from the green screen of his computer monitor. Above the desk were myriad shelves filled with books, software, various sports equipment, and what looked like a mounted bug collection. Above the shelves a three-foot replica of a jet plane hung from wires.
    “I came to show Melissa your machine!” Gretta exclaimed.
    “I’ve got lots of machines,” Hank said.
    “Then show her all of ’em.”
    Melissa took in the rows of robots and other mechanical toys. The bedroom was large, with three built-in carpeted levels in an L-shape against two walls. Each tier held different items—a built-in mattress, a portable color television, a cordless telephone, the robots, a small stereo, and various other electronic devices. The luxurious room was almost as big as Melissa’s apartment.
    Pointing at the robots, Gretta asked, “Do you like ’em?”
    “Aw. She’s not interested, Gretta.”
    “Yes I am.”
    “Well, I like my computer better than toys now.”
    “That’s interesting too.”
    “Really? Want to see my Treasure Hunt computer game? It teaches you history while you play.”
    Eager to encourage Hank’s friendly gesture, Melissa pulled up another chair to watch and sat down with Gretta on her lap. The boy pointed out the logistics of the game, then told her about his word-processing and mathematics software.
    “Good grief!” Melissa finally said. “You’re going to be ready for a computer programming job before you graduate from junior high.”
    Hank grinned broadly, obviously pleased at her flattery. “I bet I’m ready now. Everyone says I’m smart enough to do anything I want. Only I don’t want to be a programmer. I want to design these machines. See?” He reached over to pick up a small robot, twisting and turning its parts around. “This robot can be transformed to look like a truck or a plane. I want to design computers that can transform too—maybe into real cars.”
    “Sounds great,” Melissa said.
    “As soon as Dad buys me a modem, I’m going to hook up with data banks. Then I can get lots of information on designing.”
    “Daddy said you don’t need a modem,” Gretta objected. “He said you got too much stuff already.”
    “I’ll get one.” Hank sounded confident, then gave Melissa what she thought was a crafty look. “He’ll change his mind.”
    Since Gretta had begun squirming restlessly, Melissa suggested they go paint. Hank accompanied them to the stairs, talking about his design plans. Though his ideas were as farfetched as those of a normal eleven-year-old, she could imagine she was conversing with a more mature boy. That illusion was aided by the fact that he was already taller than Melissa.
    Louise helped them get set up at the kitchen table. Spreading newspapers down, she filled two cups with water. “Now, don’t paint too long, Gretta. I’m going to take you over to Aunt Shirley’s. Then we’ll go get some ice cream and you can stay up later tonight.”
    “Yea!” Gretta cried, swinging her brush above her head. Luckily it hadn’t been dipped into a paint jar yet.
    “Sure you want to do this now?” Melissa asked.
    “I want to do lots of pictures fast. Want me to paint a dragon?”
    “You could, but how about something to