Free Mary Wolf by Cynthia D. Grant Page B

Danielle says.
    When Daddy comes out of the office, he’s smiling.
    â€œWelcome to your new neighborhood,” he says.
    â€œAndrew, you’re kidding. Are we really going to live here?”
    â€œJust call me Mr. Lucky.” He kisses Mama and grins. “Their maintenance-and-security man just quit. They need someone to keep an eye on the development. Do little repairs and kick out trespassers. The pay’s not great, but we get a place to live for free.”
    Mama hugs him. “This is unbelievable!”
    â€œI thought we were going to the city,” I say.
    â€œWe are, Mary, but there’s plenty of time. School doesn’t start until the fall.”
    â€œYes, but—”
    â€œWill you quit yes-butting me and be happy for once? If I gave you the sun, you’d say, ‘But Daddy, it’s hot!’ I thought you’d enjoy living in one of these houses for a while.”
    â€œI would, but—”
    â€œSee, you’re doing it again! I told you we’d go to the city, and we will. You and the girls will start school this fall, I promise. But it’s only June. We’re still on summer vacation.”
    He and Mama embrace. The girls jump up and down. Andy makes happy gurgly sounds.
    We drive back to the secluded house Daddy inspected.
    â€œLet’s park in back,” he says. “It’ll be easier to unload.”
    The gate’s jammed; he pries it open. I drive the RV into the side yard; he closes the tall wooden gate.
    â€œI’ll fix that tomorrow,” he says. “Let’s look at the house.”
    The key they gave him won’t open that door, so he goes around back and lets us all inside.
    Mama’s in Wonderland. She’s oohing and aahing. “Look at this, Andrew! Can you believe it’s ours?”
    We wander through a maze of spacious rooms. The furniture is new and expensive. Every room has a view of the distant, sparkling ocean. There are three bathrooms.
    â€œThree bathrooms!” Mama says. “And a hot tub outside! I’m going to get in that hot tub and never come out.”
    â€œThere’s a TV!” Danielle screams. “And a VCR!” The cabinet drawers contain hundreds of movies. She and Erica pull out their favorites, fighting over who will get the first turn.
    â€œLook at this kitchen, Mary,” Mama says. “It’s got everything. A dishwasher, a microwave, a coffee maker.”
    â€œYeah, it’s got everything but food.” The spotless fridge is empty except for mayonnaise and relish and butter.
    â€œI’ll go to the store as soon as we’re settled,” Daddy says. “There’s a market a few miles down the road.”
    We divvy up the bedrooms. I take the one upstairs. It’s private and the bed is wide and firm. Mama and Daddy will sleep in the master bedroom, with Andy and Polly just down the hall. Erica and Danielle decide to share a room. Sleeping by themselves would feel too strange and lonesome.
    Mama and Daddy go to the store while Andy naps. I do laundry in the washer and dryer. It’s so handy to have them right here in the house. In the TV room Erica and Danielle watch Beauty and the Beast . I find popcorn and a popper in a kitchen cupboard and bring them a bowl of it, slathered with butter.
    Mama and Daddy return loaded down with groceries. We carry them into the house.
    â€œLook at this stuff! We’ve got enough for an army!” It makes me feel rich to see all that food. We fill up the fridge and the cupboards and bread box. Mama finds a brass bowl and piles it high with fruit, placing it on the dining room table, beneath a stained-glass lampshade.
    For supper I bake chicken and potatoes and fix a big green salad. Mama and Daddy share a bottle of wine. Everybody’s laughing and having a good time. Danielle helps me clean up and load the dishwasher without griping. Then she heads back to the TV room for one more movie. Andy and