Free Husky by Justin Sayre Page A

center of three old ladies bickering for attention. Both sound pretty awful tonight. All I want to be is left alone.
    When I get upstairs, Mom’s door is shut, which is weird. Is she home? It’s Thursday. Is she coming with us? I would knock, but the whole thing is just so unusual that I decide to leave her alone, whatever she’s doing. I grab a shirt and put it on. Something with buttons, which will make Nanny happy. Nanny thinks buttons are fancy. Anda new pair of shorts, which she won’t like but that she’ll understand because it’s hot. I’m all ready quick, but I need to brush my teeth and comb my hair, or at least try. Maybe with a few fingers or something. I don’t want to knock, but I have to now.
    I walk slowly over to her door, and knock real lightly so that Nanny doesn’t hear and blow it. Three little light taps on the door. Too light, really. I knock again, a little harder, but not hard enough. I can hear the hair dryer, so she must be getting ready too. Is she coming with us? Because that would be so good. Mom knows how to handle the Mrs. best, a whole lot better than me. And if she is there, at least I’ll have someone to talk to.
    I wait until the hair dryer is done and knock again Then I hear clicks, the clicks of high heels, and the door opens to find Mom with a curling iron and a big smile. And a bra. And a slip. That’s it.
    â€œHey, don’t you look nice,” Mom says.
    â€œThanks,” I say, not looking up, because that is just not okay. “I just need to brush my teeth.”
    â€œSure, c’mere,” Mom says as she walks back towardher bathroom with the curling iron still curling away. I follow her, looking only at her shoes. I would say she looks nice, because her shoes do, and the slip she’s wearing is pretty, but I feel like if I said, “Hey, Mom, you look really nice in your bra,” that would be so gross, she might tell me to leave and then I would never be able to brush my teeth. And I do need to go, or at least get out of here.
    â€œThe Mrs. can’t wait to see you. Mrs. Zhang called earlier and asked if you were coming especially,” Mom says from the bathroom. I wait at the door.
    â€œDon’t you need to brush your teeth?” Mom smiles. “It’s okay. You can come in.” Mom laughs at this, probably thinking I’m silly or something. I mean, it’s just a bra. On my mother. A bra. That’s it.
    I walk over and grab my toothbrush and start to brush. I don’t look in the mirror even though it’s right in front of me, but Mom is in the mirror, bra and all, so I sort of look down and brush faster than I ever have before.
    â€œHow was Ellen’s? Did you have fun?” asks Mom.
    â€œYeah, it was fine,” I answer with the brush in my mouth.
    â€œWhat did you do?”
    How much does she want me to answer with the toothbrush in my mouth? I’m already foaming all over my face from her first question. But I keep brushing and try to talk through the bubbles, just getting out that we played video games and hung out. That’s it.
    â€œNice. Was Sophie there? It’s her birthday soon. I’ll have to make her red velvet cake.”
    Maybe you won’t, because I’m not invited. At least to the Spa Day. Let her get her own cake with Allegra then. No gluten for either of them. I spit into the sink and look in the mirror to make sure I wipe off all the toothpaste, and when I do, Mom takes my face and squeezes my cheeks.
    â€œLook at this face. You’re getting so good-looking, Ducks,” she sort of Cookie Monster growls at me. It’s this voice she does when she likes something or right before she tells me something is about to get different. The voice is sort of swallowing, like it wants to bring you inside to get you comfortable. It sounds nice, but there’s definitely this feeling that she always wanted to eat me. I used to geta little