brother—he doesn’t belong in a cage. And you know you can’t have your own room.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Watch all my stuff get ruined?”
“They’re only dumb old trading cards,” Emma said, standing at the counter buttering her toast.
He shot her a look of disdain. “Go ahead and call them dumb. They’re gonna be worth a lot of money someday.”
Emma grunted in disbelief.
“They are! Trading cards are big business. I heard a guy got a thousand dollars for a Cal Ripken.”
Frannie raised one eyebrow. “Do you have a Cal Ripken?”
“No, but some of my cards will be worth something someday if they’re not all wrecked. Mom, you’ve got to do something. He’s always into everything…my homework, my cards…everything. Can’t I please have my own room?”
“That would mean putting Luke in with Emma,” Frannie said, telling him with her tone what a bad idea that was.
“He can’t. He’s not a girl,” Emma said.
“It’s not fair,” Alex said, slamming his album down on the table. “Luke’s a monster.” It was a comment that caused the three-year-old to chuckle with delight.
“It’s just a stage he’s in,” Frannie said consolingly. “It won’t be long before you’re the best of friends.”
Alex made a sound of disbelief.
“You should read Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, ” Emma suggested. “Peter has the same problem with his brother Fudge that you have with Luke.”
“I don’t want to read a book. I want my cards,” Alex demanded.
“Luke, did you take your brother’s baseball cards?” Frannie asked.
Luke giggled again, then ran from the room. When he returned, he clutched two trading cards in his fists. Alex grabbed them from him.
“Books are make-believe,” Alex said to Emma. “This isn’t.” He held up two dog-eared cards for their inspection. “Look! Chuck Knoblauch and Derek Jeter ruined!”
He grabbed his album and was about to stamp out of the kitchen, when Frannie said, “Alex, I’d like to talk to you after you’ve had breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Well, when you are hungry, let me know. I’ll make you some pancakes and you and I will have a heart-to-heart.”
Alex grunted, then slipped out of the kitchen. As he left, Emma called out, “If you want my Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, I’ll loan it to you.”
Frannie didn’t think Alex wanted anything but to be left alone. When Luke would have followed him, she grabbed him by the waist and set him on a chair. “Time to eat.”
“He’s mad, you know,” Emma commented.
“He just needs some time alone,” she told her daughter, but she knew that as soon as she’d fed Luke, she’d see if there wasn’t something else she could do for Alex.
ALEX HEARD HIS SISTER’S VOICE echo through the hallway as he headed for his room. He didn’t care if Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing was the best book in the whole wide world. He didn’t want to read about some kid named Peter who had a little brother who messed with his things.
It was bad enough that he had a little brother who messed with his things. And the title of his sister’s favorite book was enough to make him want to bury it at the bottom of his closet. Why would anyone want to read about a kid who thought he was a nothing?
If the title was Tales of a Fourth Grade Somebody, he might read the book, but a fourth grade nothing? No way. He already felt like a big fat nothing when he thought about his dad.
There was knock on his door, and then Alex heard his mother’s voice: “Can I come in?”
He knew she wouldn’t go away until he said yes. Mothers never did. “All right,” he mumbled.
She came in and closed the door behind her, then sat down next to him on the bed. “I’m sorry Luke ruined your cards. Can I buy you new ones?”
He shrugged. “If you can find them.”
“I saw in the paper there’s a trading card show next weekend at the junior high. Would you like to go?”
“You’ll take me?”
“If you want. And you could bring Josh, too.”
“All right.”
“Alex, there’s something else I want to talk about with you.” He could tell by the look on her face that it was serious. “Lois told me you’ve made up the posters you hope will help you find your father.”
He’d figured his aunt would tell her, so he went over to his desk and pulled open a drawer. He removed a single sheet of paper and showed it to her. “Are you mad?”
He thought it was probably a dumb question. She’d already told him a while back that she didn’t think the poster was a good idea.
“You call him a deadbeat.” Her voice was quiet, not angry.
“Because he is. You don’t need to pretend with me, Mom. I heard you and Auntie Lois talking. I know he’s a deadbeat.”
“Then, why look for him?”
“To make him pay. He owes you money. It’s not right that you have to work so much just to pay the bills he should be looking after.”
She slid her arm around his shoulder and squeezed him. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me, but I can take care of the four of us just fine. Are you sure there isn’t another reason why you want to find him?”
“Like what?”
“Maybe you think there’s a possibility that when you find him, things will be different. That your father will want to be a father again.”
“No! That’s not it. I’m not doing this for me, Mom. I told you that. It’s for you and Emma and Luke.”
She gave him another squeeze and said, “Oh, Alex. You really are a very special boy.”
He wanted to believe her. And most of the time he did, but there were those times when he had his doubts. “If I’m so special, why did dad leave?”
As soon as he’d asked the question, he wished he hadn’t, because his mom’s eyes got all watery.
Then she pulled him even closer to her, resting her chin on his head as she said, “It’s nothing you or Emma or Luke did. Your father left because he was missing something inside himself. And it was a big something. It was what tells us that the greatest treasure anyone can ever have is a family to love. So don’t ever think you aren’t special. You were just unfortunate to have a father who wasn’t smart enough to recognize what special is.”
This time she didn’t just give him a hug, but a kiss, too. Right on his forehead. Then she said, “Now how about coming out and letting me make you some pancakes?”
He was hungry. “Oh, all right.” He tried to make it sound as if he really didn’t care about breakfast.
Before they could cross the living room into the kitchen, the doorbell rang. Emma raced to the front window to push aside the curtains so she could see who was standing on the step.
With a screech she cried out, “Oh, my gosh! It’s Gramma!”
CHAPTER TWO
WHAT FRANNIE DIDN’T NEED today of all days was to have her former mother-in-law drop in. “This is a surprise,” she said, although it really shouldn’t have caught her off guard.