The Penalty Box by Deirdre Martin Read Free Book Online

Mom.”
    Stalling for time, she poured herself a glass of cold water, drinking it down slowly to avoid cramps. The breakfast table was laden with toast, sausage, pancakes, eggs—all the foods she loved, all the foods that would make her fat again if she didn’t watch it. She didn’t want to appear ungracious, but she was going to have to have a chat with her mother about the way she cooked. One year of living in this house again and she’d have to go to a tent maker for her clothing. She had to be vigilant.
    She poured herself some coffee and helped herself to some scrambled eggs and a piece of dry toast before sliding into the seat beside Tuck, who held his nose again, shifting his chair slightly away from her. As expected, her mother reacted as if she’d just announced the commencement of a hunger strike.
    â€œThat’s it? That’s all you’re having?”
    â€œI just finished a run, Mom. If I eat too much right now, I’ll throw up.”
    Her mother shook her head before turning to Tuck, tapping her fork on his plate like a gavel-wielding judge. “Eat up, mister. Contrary to what your aunt thinks, a good breakfast is very important.”
    Tuck didn’t look like he needed much convincing. In fact, he was shoveling food into his mouth so fast Katie was afraid he’d choke.
    â€œNana, look.” He pushed the open newspaper he’d been glancing at over to Katie’s mother, pointing at something on the bottom of the page. “That’s what I was telling you about.”
    Her mother’s eyes flicked to the paper before she pushed it back. “We’ve already discussed this.”
    Tuck’s face fell. “But—”
    â€œI’m sorry, honey. I just can’t afford it.” She rose to wash dishes.
    â€œWhat is it?” Katie asked Tuck under her breath.
    Tuck furtively slid the paper to Katie. At the bottom of the left-hand page was a boxed announcement about tryout times for Didsbury’s Youth Hockey League.
    â€œYou play hockey?” Katie whispered, surprised.
    Tuck nodded fervently.
    â€œHmm.” Katie skimmed the announcement for the source of her mother’s distress, and found it right there on the bottom line in bold: The dues for the year were two hundred fifty dollars. She leaned toward Tuck conspiratorially. “Go blow up some medieval fortress on your computer and I’ll talk to Nana about this.”
    â€œReally?”
    Katie nodded. “Finish your breakfast first, though.”
    Tuck wolfed down the rest of his food. “Nana, I’m done! Can I go play on the computer?”
    â€œYes, but only for an hour.” Katie’s mom turned around to make firm eye contact with her grandson. “Okay?”
    â€œYes, Nana, love you bye.” Grinning, Tuck flew up the stairs to his room.
    â€œDon’t think I don’t know what you two were hatching up,” her mother said. “Just because the tap’s running, doesn’t mean I’m deaf.”
    â€œMom, I can cover the fee if Tuck really wants to play hockey.”
    â€œThere’s more than the fee involved, Katie. There’s equipment.”
    â€œI’ll cover that, too.”
    â€œMade of money now, are we?”
    Katie was silent. She knew her mother: The only time she ever resorted to sarcasm was when she felt defensive. It had happened a lot right after her father died and money was especially tight. Her mother must have thought that by offering to cover Tuck’s hockey fees, Katie was inferring she wasn’t providing well for him.
    Removing her hands from the soapy water, her mother wiped them on her apron with a sigh. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just”—her voice cracked a little—“hard.”
    â€œWhat is?” Katie put down her coffee cup. “Talk to me, Mom.”
    Tears filled her mother’s eyes. “I love having Tuck, I really do. But