Astrid Amara by Holiday Outing Read Free Book Online

although I knew the answer from the state of the
    room.
    Rachel shook her head. “Aunt Helene has lost it.”
    “No kidding.”
    “I mean her mind,” Rachel clarified.
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    Astrid Amara
    “I believe you.”
    In the kitchen I found my mother in a state of near hysteria.
    “What am I going to do, Jonah?” she whispered, rushing around in panic. “How are we
    going to survive? How am I going to feed everyone?”
    I opened the pantry. Clearly the one hundred cans of food there provided my mother
    no solace.
    “It’ll be fine, Ma,” I assured her, rubbing her back. “They’ll plow the roads this morning
    and everyone will be gone by the afternoon.”
    “I can’t even heat the food,” she lamented. “I told your father I wanted a gas range but
    he refused! Now I’m going to have to serve cold breakfast.”
    “It’ll taste great.”
    “And your uncle is refusing to talk to anyone, even your father.” She sighed and looked
    at me.
    “I didn’t take it, Ma, honestly.”
    She gave me a small smile. “No. Of course you didn’t.” She reached out and touched my
    shoulder, and for a moment, I froze, shocked by the gesture. I couldn’t remember the last
    time she had done such a thing. She turned back to her sink, staring blankly. “What am I
    going to serve?”
    “We should probably consume the perishables first, since they’ll go bad faster. We can
    put most of them outside to keep cold. Do you have cereal?”
    She shuffled to the massive pantry and pulled out ten boxes of cereal, one of which I
    recognized from high school.
    “Were any of those purchased at least during the Clinton Administration?”
    “Ha. My son the comedian.” She frowned at them. “Actually…only the muesli.”
    Holiday Outing
    43
    “Okay then. Muesli and milk and lukewarm orange juice and bread and butter and
    jam.” I help her prepare breakfast, and the act of setting the table seemed to lull her into a
    calm focus.
    By seven everyone was groggily awake, except for Aunt Goldie, who appeared
    conscious one moment, and then snored at the table the next. Matthew sat beside his mother
    and repeatedly nudged her. He looked a lot less charming in the morning. His eyes seemed
    baggy and his hair pressed flatly against his head. His stubble was uneven and he looked pale
    and unhealthy.
    God, less than twenty-four hours in this house, and I was beginning to sound like my
    mother.
    Ethan, on the other hand, looked fantastic. How he managed to shave with cold water
    baffled me. He seemed far from chipper, however, and as he glanced over the table settings
    he frowned.
    “No coffee?” he whispered forlornly.
    “Not until we rig something for the fireplace,” I told him. He grunted in response and
    sat beside me, pouting.
    Matthew, Daniel, and I shared our favorite Donner party stories and tried to keep the
    tone light, but the older generation seemed genuinely nonplussed by the missing pushke and
    did little more than grunt at each other.
    As we stared at the remnants of our meal, my uncle cleared his throat.
    “It’s clear that someone” -- he turned his gaze to me -- “has taken the pushke. Maybe it
    was just a joke. But now that there’s enough light, I think everyone should go to their rooms
    and search thoroughly, in case it got lost during the power outage.”
    At once, a great exodus exploded from the table, everyone seemingly relieved to be
    given something to do other than glare surreptitiously at each other.
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    Astrid Amara
    As we split up to search our rooms, I discovered my uncle, and not Ethan, behind me.
    Uncle Al followed me into my room.
    “I’m searching your things,” Uncle Al informed me.
    “Go ahead,” I snapped, “but I expect an apology once you realize I’m innocent.” Last
    night his accusation merely compounded a miserable day. But today I refused to humor him.
    Uncle Al rooted through my carry-on, my sleeping bag, my dresser drawers.
    I leaned against the wall and glared.
    Having not found what