Free Claire at Sixteen by Susan Beth Pfeffer

you didn’t even offer us tea, and that’s hardly more than hot water. When I’m rich, I intend to be stingy as well. Nicky and Megs spend much too freely.”
    â€œSo you’ve stayed to sweet-talk me?” Aunt Grace asked. “That’s right. You do have a birthday coming, don’t you?”
    â€œIn two months,” Claire said. “And I admit money would be handy. But that’s not why I stayed.”
    Aunt Grace shifted her weight, and Trouble moved along with her. Trouble reminded Claire just a little of Scotty, glued first to Thea, and soon, she expected, to herself. She hoped, when the time came, he’d be easier to get rid of than Trouble seemed to be.
    â€œDo you want tea?” Aunt Grace asked. “I didn’t think young girls drank tea anymore.”
    â€œI want information,” Claire replied. “Tea is more Thea’s thing than mine.”
    â€œInformation can be gotten over the telephone,” Aunt Grace said. “Just dial the right digits.”
    â€œNot this sort of information,” Claire said. “I want to know about Sebastian Prescott.”
    Aunt Grace stared at Claire. “So Evvie finally told you,” she said. “I’m surprised Thea wasn’t in tears about the whole business. She cries so easily.”
    â€œThea doesn’t know,” Claire said. “And Evvie didn’t tell me nearly enough.”
    â€œShe can’t have forgotten what was in the detective’s report,” Aunt Grace declared. “Margaret probably has, she has such blinders about Nick, but Evvie is more sensible than that. In spite of her feelings about that Steinmetz boy.”
    â€œEvvie didn’t say how she found out about Sebastian Prescott,” Claire said. “Merely who he was.”
    â€œAnd who did she say he was?” Aunt Grace asked.
    Claire knew her bluff was being called. She didn’t care for her options, but she knew what they were. She could either admit she didn’t know for certain herself, or she could say what she thought. If she guessed wrong, she could then either blame it on Evvie, or hope that Aunt Grace wouldn’t tell anybody else about what a fool she’d made of herself. The woman was ninety, after all, and could easily die before letting everybody know about Claire’s ridiculous assumptions.
    Trying to force the information out of Aunt Grace wouldn’t work. Blaming Evvie was distasteful to her. Therefore, it was either hope she’d guessed right, or pray for Aunt Grace’s silence.
    â€œSebastian Prescott is Nicky’s father,” Claire said.
    â€œI’m glad to see Evvie hasn’t forgotten all the lessons I tried to teach her that summer,” Aunt Grace said. “Although she never seemed to care for my instructions.”
    Claire wasn’t sure, but she thought that was a confirmation. “It’s in the detective’s report?” she asked. “About Sebastian Prescott being Nicky’s father?”
    â€œCertainly,” Aunt Grace said. “I hired a reputable firm to find out everything they could about Nick Sebastian that summer. I tried to use the information to convince Margaret that he was unworthy of her, that she should never see him again. But there is no reasoning with a sixteen-year-old, especially one in love with a handsome, dangerous man.”
    Claire nodded, and tried to keep from shaking. It was one thing to guess that Sebastian Prescott was Nicky’s father. It was another thing to have it confirmed. “I don’t understand why Nicky’s last name isn’t Prescott,” she said. “Sons usually take their father’s last names, not their first ones.”
    â€œNowadays I suppose that’s what’s done with bastards,” Aunt Grace said. “Moral standards have decayed so, people now flaunt their illegitimate offspring. But when Nick was conceived, a man, especially a married