MacKenzie Isabelle Evans edged closer to the telephone so she could hear what Mom was saying. “Oh! That’s too bad! I’m really sorry! No, it’s no problem at all. I’m glad to help out,” Mom said into the phone.
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Trevor Paul Monroe read his memory verse a second time. He frowned. He still didn’t like what it said. If he wanted to be a great man, he was supposed to be a servant!
“What? You want to walk over to the drug store and have ice cream cones now?” Mom asked, her eyebrows raised. “In this rain?” She glanced at the fat raindrops chasing each other down the kitchen windows.
Joseph’s stomach rumbled. He didn’t think he could wait until after the business meeting to eat. He was starving! He slid onto a folding chair next to Trevor.
“I had to taste it!” Mac protested. “You can’t put frosting on a cake until you’re sure it tastes right!”
Hannah Maria Estevez didn’t even hear Mama come into the bedroom. She jumped when Mama touched her shoulder.
MacKenzie Isabelle Evans laughed and laughed. And when she tried to stop, little giggles still bubbled out. She took the pencil from Joseph and began to write.
Joseph took a deep breath. He loved the smell of onions and garlic cooking. G.M. always teased that it was because he had Italian taste buds. Joseph wondered exactly what G.M. was making. He stood beside her and watched the long strips of brown potato skin slide off as the peeler scraped along the potato.
Hannah Maria Estevez clutched her purse in her hand and followed Papa down the aisle. She walked very slowly because there was so much to see. Glittery Christmas decorations. Shelves and shelves of fascinating things for sale. And interesting people everywhere.
If only I had a drum set like Ivan down the street, Trevor thought. Ivan’s set was bright blue with silver sparkles. It looked as if it would glow in the dark, but it didn’t—they’d turned off the lights to check.
