Free The Old House by Willo Davis Roberts

several hours. She put the book aside and followed her aunt toward the kitchen. She could hear Grandpa there, checking the time, and met Addie coming down the stairs at the same time as Max came in the back door.
    Everybody was there except Gus.
    â€œI’m heating some milk for cocoa,” Cassie said to all of them as they assembled in the kitchen. “There are some chocolate cookies to go with it. Shall we sit around the table here?”
    The kitten had gotten off Grandpa’s lap when he’d left the TV behind, and Max was quick to snatch him up and cradle him against his chest.
    â€œHow come I don’t have the store anymore?” Grandpa asked plaintively, sitting down in one of the old oak chairs.
    â€œYou sold it, honey,” Cassie said, checking the pan of milk on the stove.
    â€œI didn’t want to sell it,” Grandpa said. “I worked in that store my whole adult life. Didn’t I?”
    â€œYou sure did,” Cassie agreed.
    â€œI always gave people a good deal. Fair prices. Good service. Everybody in town came in there to buy their furniture and appliances.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Cassie confirmed.
    â€œThen why did I sell it?”
    Cassie and Addie exchanged a look, and once more Buddy sensed mysterious currents that she couldn’t interpret. “You had a stroke, Grandpa,” Addie told him, bringing out the plate of cookies. “You couldn’t work anymore.”
    â€œHow long ago was that?”
    â€œAbout two and a half years ago. Here, you want one of these?”
    â€œI always want a cookie.” Grandpa reached to take one and noticed Buddy, just sitting down across from him. “Who’s this?”
    â€œYou remember. Buddy,” Cassie said. “EllaBelle’s girl.”
    He nodded. “Where’s EllaBelle?”
    This time the current swirled for only seconds before Addie said calmly, “She died, Grandpa. In a car wreck.”
    â€œShe did? Was he driving? That fellow she married?”
    â€œNo, she was alone when it happened. She skidded on the ice.”
    Grandpa nibbled thoughtfully. “Always liked that boy. Dan, wasn’t that his name?”
    â€œYes.” Again, Addie was tight-lipped. Why? Buddy wondered. Why did she get that way at the mention of her father?
    â€œDan. I remember,” Grandpa said. He had carried the remote control with him and placed it on the table. “He worked for me in the store, didn’t he? Best salesman I ever had. Except for myself. He was almost as good as I was.”
    That was true enough. If he’d wanted a sales job, he could have found one that didn’t take him on the road, Buddy thought, and the prickle of tears made her blink. But in spite of his ability to sell anything to anybody, he’d didn’t really like that line of work. Buddy remembered exactly what he’d said. “I hate selling people things they don’t need and can’t afford. I’d rather have a straightforward job like working in the mill or driving a truck, where I’m not taking advantage of anybody.”
    She wished with all her heart that he’dwanted to take a nice, safe job in a store or a lumberyard.
    â€œIs he here?” Grandpa asked. “Dan? Won’t he come and say hello?”
    â€œNo. He’s . . . not here,” Addie told him. “Who on earth is that at this time of night?” The doorbell had rung, echoing through the house. “I’ll go see.”
    It couldn’t be Bart, or Dad, but Buddy’s heart leaped, anyway. Maybe there was word of them. . . . She waited, holding her breath, hearing Addie’s voice, and a male voice answering, from off in the distance.
    Buddy couldn’t understand anything that was being said at the front door, but Max must have caught some of it, because he suddenly started to move in that direction. “Something’s happened to Pa,” he