Banana Split by Josi S. Kilpack Read Free Book Online

no doubt that Sadie should call the police, and yet . . . this boy pulled at her heart. What if he didn’t have anywhere to go? What if he really was on his own?
     
    “Are you hungry?” she asked.
     
    He hesitated but after a moment, nodded.
     
    “I have some chicken and rice, and I made brownies,” she said. “They’re just a mix, so it’s nothing special, but I really shouldn’t eat the whole pan myself. Do you think you could help me?”
     
    He didn’t speak or nod or anything, but he did start climbing down from the tree. Sadie felt something unfamiliar in her chest, a kind of peace or comfort. Charlie dropped to the ground a few feet away from her, still regarding her carefully and clutching the towel.
     
    “Go put that back where you found it,” Sadie said. He did as she said, taking the time to smooth out the towel on the back of a chair by the pool. He knew how to take care of things. When he headed back toward her, she turned to the condo, allowing him to follow her. It wasn’t until she opened the door for him and smiled as he passed her that she realized what this new feeling was. And it wasn’t really new at all, just forgotten. It had been a very long time since Sadie had given much of anything to anyone else. The anxiety she’d been living with had wrapped itself around her so tightly that there’d been no room left for reaching out to anyone else. The fear was still there, pressing against her chest as she shut and locked the sliding glass door—one, two, three—but maybe the stranglehold was a little less than it had been. Maybe reaching out to help someone else was some kind of cure for her own disease.
     
    “Have a seat,” she said, feeling the forgotten role of hostess fall over her shoulders like a superhero cape. “Let’s get some real food in you before we serve up the brownies.”
     

Chapter 6
     

     
    Sadie slid a plate of the remaining shoyu chicken and rice in front of Charlie before sitting down opposite him at the table. He didn’t thank her with words, but the fervor with which he ate clearly communicated his appreciation and hunger. Sadie wished she could take credit—it was always rewarding to see someone enjoy something she’d made herself—but she had no ownership in anything placed before him tonight.
     
    “So,” Sadie said after he’d taken a few bites. Though he was hungry now, she could tell by his overall physique that he wasn’t malnourished. “How old are you, Charlie?”
     
    “Just made eleven,” he said with his mouth full.
     
    “Fifth or sixth grade?” Sadie asked.
     
    “Fifth.”
     
    “I used to teach school. Second grade though.”
     
    He said nothing and kept eating.
     
    Sadie wanted to ask where he went to school and who he lived with but since those types of questions had not met with success in their earlier conversation, she tried a different approach. “I’m sure sorry about your mom. I wish I did know her, so I could help you.”
     
    “You’re sure you aren’t her friend?” Charlie asked, looking at her with a doubtful expression.
     
    Sadie shook her head. “Why do you think I was her friend?”
     
    He smashed a piece of rice with his thumb. “You was the only person in the paper and then the police was talking about you when they talked to CeeCee.”
     
    “Who’s CeeCee?”
     
    He took another bite instead of answering. He was almost finished eating so Sadie hurried to get him a brownie and a glass of milk. She’d dealt with kids from hard family situations before—such as a mother addicted to drugs—and knew they were often quite wary of questions. The food seemed to help keep him open.
     
    “What was your mom like?” Sadie asked as she set two plates of brownies on the table. He immediately abandoned the last few bites of his dinner in favor of the dessert. Big surprise.
     
    “She’s real pretty,” he said quickly. Sadie noted his use of the present tense and the way a light jumped into his