Free Dana's Valley by Janette Oke

window seat like I’d seen in a magazine. I wondered if Mom would let us have one. They were great places to curl up with a book. You could even tuck your book under a cushion if you didn’t feel like putting it back on the shelf when you were done.
    â€œCan I have my own room?” Brett was asking. “Or do I still have to share with—?” He stopped before he’d actually uttered Corey’s name, but even Corey got the point.
    His head came up. “Uh-uh,” he said, shaking his head emphatically, waving a bite of egg in the air. “I don’t want to sleep alone. I get scared.”
    â€œYou’ve gotta learn to sleep alone sometime,” Brett argued. “Won’t be long until I go off to college. Then what?”
    â€œI’ll go too,” said Corey without a moment’s hesitation. Brett snorted.
    On the other side of the table, Dana seemed to be deep in thought. “Where?” she asked, as if she hadn’t even heard anyone else’s comments.
    Dad understood her question. “We don’t know yet. We need to look around.”
    Until that moment I hadn’t thought about the where. I had just assumed that the new house would be right where we were—or at least somewhere very close. Surely Dad wouldn’t move us away from our community. Our friends.
    â€œYou mean we might have to move somewhere else?” My voice squeaked at the incredible notion.
    â€œMost likely.”
    I think all of us just sat and stared. Dad had always said that what we had was just fine. That good homes were not fashioned out of wood and bricks—but love and respect. Now he was prepared to move? Away?
    â€œI don’t think I want to move,” said Dana, shaking her head and echoing my feelings exactly.
    â€œI do,” piped up Corey.
    â€œHow do you know? You’ve never moved. You don’t even know what it’s like.” I was a little short with him. I didn’t want anyone reinforcing Dad’s idea until we’d at least had some time to think about it.
    â€œI know,” said Corey, pushing a piece of toast into the egg yolk without too much success. “But after I move—then I will know.”
    I guess, somehow, that made sense. Anyway, there was little point in arguing with Corey. I turned my attention back to Dad, who was speaking again. “Mom and I have been doing a lot of praying and talking. It seems that now would be a good time to make a move. As you kids enter the teen years, you could use more space—each have your own room. And it seems …”
    But he lost me right there. Was he thinking Dana and I would not be sharing a room anymore? We’d always shared a room. I couldn’t imagine sleeping alone. It wasn’t that I was scared—like Corey. It was just that I liked Dana’s company. She must have felt the same way because before I could even speak, she asked, “Would we have to have separate rooms?”
    She had interrupted Dad. Usually we were gently reminded that we were not to do that, but this time Dad stopped midsentence and looked at Dana. “You don’t want to have your own room?” He sounded a little surprised.
    â€œNot really,” she answered, sounding less firm. Maybe she was wondering if that made her odd.
    I spoke up quickly. “Me neither.”
    Dad just shrugged and looked over at Mom. She shrugged back—but she also smiled. “You won’t be required to have your own rooms if that’s the way you feel about it,” she said. She looked rather pleased—as she sometimes did when we remembered our proper manners in public or were thoughtful about another person or something.
    â€œMe too,” said Corey, stuffing in more toast. “I’ll sleep with them too.”
    I couldn’t help but smile at his simple solution.
    Dana was shaking her head. “Then why move?” The question seemed to be directed at Corey,