South of Superior - Ellen Airgood [113]
“How long before my mom gets back?”
So far she’d evaded the whole truth, everyone had. But looking at his small Unhappy form, she thought that this was Useless. They weren’t protecting him, they were just giving him false hope. “It might be a long time. Maybe a year or more. Nobody knows right now. I’m sorry.”
“Couldn’t you and me go and live in my mom’s house?”
They couldn’t, even if she didn’t hate the idea and didn’t have the hotel to think of. “Your mom rented the house, sweetie. That means she had to pay a certain amount every month to stay there, but somebody else owns it. You know that, right?”
He nodded, but his eyes were beseeching. Her heart ached for him. “You’ve just got to make the best of a bad situation, I’m afraid. You’re kind of stuck with me for the time being.”
He nodded again, looked down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. “I wish I had a dad,” he whispered. “If I had a dad then he could live with me in my house Until Mommy gets better. That’s what Eddie Tibbett’s dad did when his mom went away to live downstate.”
Oh boy. Madeline drove on without responding at first. After a while she said, “I never had a dad around.”
Greyson looked over at her. “You didn’t?”
“No. I never knew who he was. I never will.”
“Really?”
“Really. It didn’t bother me too much. I was Used to it. Sometimes other kids asked me about it, and that was when it bothered me.”
He was nodding. “I know. Like in school one day Amanda Walker said she was going to beat me Up if I didn’t tell who my dad was.”
Madeline made a mental note to watch out for Amanda Walker. “I know you miss your mom and want her to come home, and I’m sorry. All I can say is, I’m glad I get to be the one who hangs out with you in the meantime.”
He looked at Madeline with a funny expression, something between a smile and a frown, and scooted closer on the seat. “I like you, Madeline,” he said.
“I like you too.”
“Could I have a grilled cheese with my soup?”
“I think that could be arranged.”
“Can we go to Garceau’s after school tomorrow? I haven’t seen Paul—Mr. Garceau—hardly at all this week.”
“I guess we could do that,” Madeline said, smiling across at him.
25
Hello, Mr. Garceau!” Greyson called out as he and Madeline came through the door of the pizzeria.
“Afternoon, Mr. Hopkins.” They’d been doing this, calling each other Mr. Garceau and Mr. Hopkins, for a while now. Paul didn’t remember exactly how it started. He was glad to see Greyson looking so cheerful. Madeline was doing a good job. Well, everyone was—half the town was helping out in one way or another. But Madeline was the main deal, and as far as he could see she never looked back once she took Greyson on. He liked her for that. He wished he could do more than he did, but there was never as much time as he needed.
Greyson ran into the kitchen. “What’re you doing?”
“Chopping.”
“Chopping what?”
“Chopping stuff Up for pizzas, whaddya think, I’m making pressed duck?” Paul ruffled Greyson’s hair. The worst part about the split with Randi was that he would lose his direct ties to Grey too. He hadn’t told him about the breakup yet, hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. It was awkward. He wasn’t the kind of person to talk about his personal life in the best of times, and what incentive was there to tell people that Randi didn’t want him around?
Paul wished he could ditch Garceau’s, drop everything right where it was, and take Greyson on some kind of adventure. They could go fishing. When had Paul last been fishing? Four or five years ago? Grey would love it, he thought, and so would Paul, the time spent, just the two of them, sharing the quiet, Paul teaching Grey about a part of the world he probably hadn’t yet discovered. He wanted desperately to give the boy more than scraps of time wedged between his work. It’d be great to make a grand gesture—go to Detroit