All-Season Edie Read Online Free Page A

tomorrow.”
    â€œDamn,” I say.
    â€œAnd no cheese for you tonight.”
    â€œDouble damn,” I say.
    â€œOr tomorrow either,” Dad says. “Are you learning these expressions from that boy you’ve been hanging around with? That little fat boy?”
    â€œRobert is not FAT!” I shout. Well, he is, really, but he’s my friend, so I say, “Anyway, so what if he is?” And then, for good measure, I add nastily, “I would take being fat over going to a craft fair ANY DAY OF THE WEEK.” And with that I stomp into my bedroom to change out of my bathing suit.
    That evening, we make our nightly after-supper visit to the office to phone home. This time, Dad goes first.
    â€œDad? Dad?” he says. “Dad! How are you? No, we’re fine! Are you fine? We’re fine! That’s great!”
    Mom and I are having a thumb-war while we wait. Quietly, I say, “Why is he talking like that?”
    â€œHe’s nervous,” Mom says, quietly too. “It makes his voice go all funny.”
    â€œWhy is he nervous?” I ask.
    Mom pins my thumb.
    â€œOkay, we were having a conversation,” I say. “That doesn’t count.”
    â€œBest of five,” Mom says.
    â€œTrout, I think,” Dad is saying. He glances at the woman with the Game Boy, who looks up long enough to nod, looks back down and sighs. Her game makes a farting sound to show she lost. “Trout,” Dad says confidently. “I sure wish you were here! You could give us pointers! Maybe next year!”
    â€œUs?” I say to Mom. Dad hasn’t come fishing once. She pins my thumb again. “Do you mind, while I’m talking?” I say. Dad hangs up. “Grandma!” I say.
    â€œOh, sorry, sweetie,” Dad says. “Next time.”
    Mom phones Mean Megan’s house. She starts to say something, listens for a minute and then says, “Oh, honey, I know. I know. I know.”
    I roll my eyes at Dad, who smiles at me vaguely. I know he isn’t paying attention.
    â€œEdie wants to talk to you,” Mom says, which is a lie, but she gives me a look and holds out the phone. “Be nice to your sister,” she whispers.
    I take the phone. “Hex on Dex,” I say.
    â€œGreedy Edie,” she replies. I hear her snuffle.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” I ask.
    â€œWhat are you doing?”
    â€œGoing to an extremely fun craft fair tomorrow.” Mom gives me a look.
    â€œWhat did you have for dinner?” Dex says. “We had tofurkey. Megan’s family doesn’t eat meat.”
    I tell her that’s because they’re from outer space, and she laughs. Then she says, “Don’t make me laugh. I’m upset.”
    â€œWhat’s that word again?”
    â€œTofurkey,” Dexter says. “Tofurkey, tofurkey, tofurkey.”
    I say, “Tofurkey, tofurkey, tofurkey.”
    â€œBrat,” she says. I give the phone back to Mom.
    â€œSee?” Mom says to the phone. “We miss you too.”
    â€œNo we don’t!” I yell so Dexter will hear.
    The next morning, after breakfast, I put on shoes and socks for the first time since we arrived at the cottage. Then I bounce up and down on the itchy sofa while Mom organizes her handbag on the kitchen table.
    â€œWhere’s Dad?” I ask as we walk to the parking lot. “I bet he’s in the bathroom. I’ll go tell him to hurry up.”
    â€œGet in the car, Edith,” Mom says. “Your father’s not coming. He—has a headache.” She looks a little raisiny as she says this.
    â€œToo Much Sun?” I ask. Mom presses her lips a little more, but now her mouth is twitchy. She turns the key in the ignition. Then she puts her arm on the headrest to look over her shoulder and starts backing cautiously toward the lane. “Let’s hit the road,” she says, and I laugh. Sometimes she says funny things like this, and