Getting Back to Normal Read Online Free Page A

have to see for yourself.”
    I add the eggs to the spaghetti and mix well till the eggs start to gel. Then I put in the cheese, the onion flakes, and bacon bits. I stir, pleased to see our dinner taking shape right before my eyes.
    The cover! Where’s the cover? I’m frantic as I search for the lid of the pot so the food will stay warm. There it is, on the kitchen table! I slam it on the pot as Robby comes into the kitchen, wiping his hands on his pants.
    “You forgot to put out a towel,” he complains.
    “Sit down here.” I point to the chair farthest from the stove.
    Robby plops himself down. His nose wiggles from side to side. “What’s that? It smells good.”
    I dish out a hefty portion of Archie’s recipe for each of us. Robby sniffs before he tastes. He tastes again, then jumps up from his chair and sticks his head inside the refrigerator.
    “What are you looking for?” I ask.
    “Ketchup.”
    “Ketchup?” I ask, hurt. “It’s on the door. Why do you need it?”
    “Because ketchup goes with spaghetti-cheese omelet.”
    “Spaghetti-cheese omelet,” I repeat. “Sounds good to me.”
    Robby giggles. “Tastes good to me.” He finds the ketchup and squeezes a dollop the size of his fist on his food. “Mmm, this is better!” he says, his mouth full of spaghetti-cheese omelet and ketchup. When he’s eaten everything on his plate, he asks, “Can I have some more?”
    “Uh-huh.” I grin at him. “There’s lots and lots.”
    The spaghetti-cheese omelet tastes good to me, too. Next time I’ll add more ingredients—parsley and other herbs. Maybe pieces of tomato.
    We’re finishing off our second helping, when we hear a key in the lock, then adult voices in the middle of a conversation. Daddy comes into the kitchen followed by Aunt Mayda.
    Mayda Shipley must be the smartest woman I know, but she knows beans about making the most of her looks. Her taste in clothing is the worst. Tonight she’s wearing baggy trousers and a pink blouse with a big, droopy bow. She swoops down from her height of nearly six feet to give Robby and me a hug.
    “Did you see Theodore?” Robby asks Daddy.
    “Who’s Theodore?” Daddy asks. Then he remembers. “No, no sign of him.” He looks from our plates to the fast food package in his hands. “Sorry, you must have gotten hungry. Guess you don’t need this after all.”
    “Vannie made spaghetti-cheese omelet,” Robby says, full of pride.
    Aunt Mayda wanders over to the stove. She lifts the lid off the pot. “Mmmm, smells divine. May I try some?”
    “Sure, Aunt Mayda.”
    I’m nervous as I dish some out and get Aunt Mayda a fork. I want to tell her about taking the supplies, but I don’t want to mention Archie. How can I do one without the other?
    Daddy goes out to the car to bring in the things he got from our house. Aunt Mayda eats quickly, as though she didn’t eat anything at their meeting. Finally, she turns to me and nods. “Delicious. Is it one of your mother’s dishes? I don’t remember her ever making this.”
    “Er—no,” I say, but Aunt Mayda’s deep in thought.
    “Funny, it tastes like something my father used to make when my mother didn’t feel like cooking. He claimed it was a family recipe.” She takes another bite. “Only my father used cheddar cheese. And real bacon.”
    I take a deep breath. “I borrowed some of the ingredients from Greystone,” I say quickly. “I hope you don’t mind.”
    “Mind? I call that clever thinking.” Aunt Mayda’s narrow face lights up with a smile. She almost looks pretty. “Leftover supplies end up in the garbage around here. No one thinks to put them to good use.”
    She looks from me to Robby and her voice softens. “Actually, I came by to see how you guys are settling in. And to find out if you need anything.”
    Robby frowns and crosses his arms. “I need a bigger room. And everything’s dark.”
    “The rooms are dark,” I agree. “We need stronger lights.”
    Daddy comes in and drops