Free Jake by Audrey Couloumbis Page A

after seeing your mother that way.”
    Sometimes Mrs. Buttermark talks like she’s a sweater. When she does, I try to do that too. I said, “I’m full of knots myself.”
    She smiled. “What shall we do to untangle?”
    I looked out the window and saw snow falling around the streetlight. “An old movie, I think.”
    I slept on her couch that night, and Mrs. Buttermark slept in her recliner. The TV was still on whenwe woke up the next morning. A different movie was on.
    It was dark outside. I could tell it was morning from the sound of cars warming up. “It’s a school day,” I said, remembering. “Today’s the Christmas party.”
    I didn’t care that much about the Christmas party, I wanted to say. I cared last week. This weekend had changed things.
    “Go tell your grandfather I’ll make breakfast,” Mrs. Buttermark said, sitting up in her chair. “I’ll shower and make pancakes.”
    Our apartment door opened as I stepped into the hallway. Granddad had the dog on the leash. I had a sudden worry come over me. What if he was mad that I’d moved across the hall?
    I forgot all about school and said, “Mrs. Buttermark says she’ll make pancakes as soon as she gets out of the shower.”
    “We can buy pancakes by the time she’s out of the shower.”
    Obviously he’d noticed this thing about females and bathrooms too. “She’d probably like that.”
    “Get dressed,” he said. “You can show me that park where I can walk the dog.”
    “Okay.”
    “Meet me downstairs.”
    Granddad had already showered. Steam had escaped from the bathroom and was rolling in the air of the hallway. I pulled my jeans on and my jacket. Wrapped a scarf around my neck. That’s when I remembered I hadn’t mentioned school. But there was plenty of time to get there; breakfast came first.
    I caught up with Granddad and the dog at the tree where he had peed the night before. He didn’t even bark at me. Actually, I think he ignored me.
    As we started out, Granddad walked so fast, I had to trot to keep up. The dog had such short legs he would’ve had to trot to keep up with
me
. He ran alongside Granddad. So I could see how Granddad had kept him from freezing the day before. I thought maybe I’d warm up in a minute too.
    The sky had begun to go gray. It didn’t have the look of a day that would be sunny later. “Maybe more snow,” Granddad said, also looking at the sky.
    I didn’t answer. My teeth were chattering unless I bit down. I wished I’d put a sweater over my pajama top before I put my jacket on. Too late now.
    We got to the park pretty quickly. A lot of people were already walking their dogs. “I’ll take Max throughthe park,” Granddad said, digging into his hip pocket. “You go into the McDonald’s there and order seven pancake breakfasts. No coffee. Donna will make coffee.”
    “She’ll make tea.”
    “Get one black coffee. Large.” He gave me the money to pay. “You wait inside. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
    “The dog run is over that way,” I said, pointing.
    “Go on,” Granddad said. “Get inside and warm up.”

CHAPTER NINE
    I didn’t have
to go to school.
    I didn’t even have to ask if I could stay home.
    “I think it’s more important for you to see your mother today,” Granddad said. We ate in our kitchen, where he passed bits of sausage to the dog. Max. There was some talk about how to manage Christmas, since Mom wouldn’t get home in time for it.
    Then Granddad said, “Anything special you’re hoping to find under the tree, Jake?”
    I shrugged, a small hope lighting up once more. “A bike.”
    “You’ve outgrown your old one?”
    “I never had one. It’s what I ask for every year.”
    Mrs. Buttermark kept her eyes on her plate, like eating pancakes was serious business. Granddad had some strong notions about risk. I hoped he wouldn’tbe mad that Mom never got me a bike. But if he got me one, Mom would probably have to let me ride it.
    And when she saw I
could
ride