you’re trying to detail too soon. Look, light strokes, impressions first.” He put a hand over the boy’s to guide it. “Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. That’s why they make those big gum erasers.”
“You don’t make mistakes.” Radley caught his tongue between his teeth as he struggled to make his hand move as expertly as Mitch’s.
“Sure I do. This is my fifteenth eraser this year.”
“You’re the best artist in the whole world,” Radley said, looking up, his heart in his eyes.
Moved and strangely humbled, Mitch ruffled the boy’s hair. “Maybe one of the top twenty, but thanks.” When the phone rang, Mitch felt a strange stab of disappointment. The weekend meant something different now—no Radley. For a man who had lived his entire adult life without responsibilities, it was a sobering thought to realize he would miss one. “That should be your mother.”
“She said we could go out to the movies tonight ’cause it’s Friday and all. You could come with us.”
Giving a noncommittal grunt, Mitch answered the phone. “Hi, Hester.”
“Mitch, I—everything okay?”
Something in her tone had his brows drawing together. “Just dandy.”
“Did Radley give you the check?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to cash it yet.”
If there was one thing she wasn’t in the mood for at the moment, it was sarcasm. “Well, thanks. If you’d send Radley upstairs, I’d appreciate it.”
“No problem.” He hesitated. “Rough day, Hester?”
She pressed a hand to her throbbing temple. “A bit. Thank you, Mitch.”
“Sure.” He hung up, still frowning. Turning to Radley, he made the effort to smile. “Time to transfer your equipment, Corporal.”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Radley gave a smart salute. The intergalactic army he’d left at Mitch’s through the week was tossed into his backpack. After a brief search, both of his gloves were located and pushed in on top of the plastic figures. Radley stuffed his coat and hat in before kneeling down to hug Taz. “Bye, Taz. See ya.” The dog rumbled a goodbye as he rubbed his snout into Radley’s shoulder. “Bye, Mitch.” He went to the door, then hesitated. “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”
“Sure. Hey, maybe I’ll just walk up with you. Give your mom a full report.”
“Okay!” Radley brightened instantly. “You left your keys in the kitchen. I’ll get them.” Mitch watched the tornado pass, then swirl back. “I got an A in spelling. When I tell Mom, she’ll be in a real good mood. We’ll probably get sodas.”
“Sounds like a good deal to me,” Mitch said, and let himself be dragged along.
***
Hester heard Radley’s key in the lock and set down the ice pack. Leaning closer, she checked her face in the bathroom mirror, saw a bruise was already forming, and swore. She’d hoped to be able to tell Radley about the mishap, gloss over it and make it a joke before any battle scars showed. Hester downed two aspirin and prayed the headache would pass.
“Mom! Hey, Mom!”
“Right here, Radley.” She winced at her own raised voice, then put on a smile as she walked out to greet him. The smile faded when she saw her son had brought company.
“Mitch came up to report,” Radley began as he shrugged out of his backpack.
“What the hell happened to you?” Mitch crossed over to her in two strides. He had her face in his hands and fury in his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I am.” She shot him a quick warning look, then turned to Radley. “I’m fine.”
Radley stared up at her, his eyes widening, then his bottom lip trembling as he saw the black-and-blue mark under her eye. “Did you fall down?”
She wanted to lie and say yes, but she’d never lied to him. “Not exactly.” She forced a smile, annoyed to have a witness to her explanation. “It seems that there was a man at the subway station who wanted my purse. I wanted it, too.”
“You were mugged?” Mitch wasn’t sure whether to swear
1796-1874 Agnes Strickland, 1794-1875 Elizabeth Strickland, Rosalie Kaufman