Broken Soup by Jenny Valentine Read Free Book Online Page B

Bee said she thought her toothbrush was safe, but that Sonny’s would be a better fit. Stroma said, “What about my mouth, though?” Bee sniffed her breath and said she thought that was safe too. It was such a relief watching someone else take care of my sister.
    Â 
    Sonny was crying when we got there. We could hear him through the door. As soon as he saw us, he started crying even harder. Carl was looking at Bee like it had been going on for too long and he didn’t know what to do.
    â€œI’ve got it, Dad,” Bee said. She put her arms outfor Sonny and he climbed into them. She took him out through the open front door, down the walkway. His arms were around her neck, fingers laced together through her hair. He was still bawling. Stroma and I were left in the hallway with Carl, who looked like the last thing on earth he needed was two more people in the house. I got this hollow feeling, like staying was going to be a really bad idea and I’d have to start letting Stroma down gently.
    â€œIs it a bad time?” I asked. Stroma groaned, this sort of “Why did you say that?” noise, like it would be all my fault if we couldn’t stay now.
    â€œOh, he’s in a mood, that’s all,” Carl said, rubbing his ears as if Sonny’s noise had got right in there and wouldn’t come out. “Bee’s good with him when he’s like that. He gets sick of me.”
    He asked if we wanted a drink or a snack or something. He said to Stroma, “You’ve been at work all day, you must be pooped ,” instantly becoming her funniest person in the world ever.
    I watched Bee and Sonny, swaying together. She was talking into his hair, he was playing with hers, still yelling his head off. I wondered where their mum was.
    Bee went up and down the walkway for ages and when she came back in, Sonny was asleep on her shoulder. She put him on the sofa without waking him up. Carl said, “Thanks, kid. I was running out of ideas.”
    Bee shrugged and said, “ Nada , Dad. Glad to be of service.”
    Stroma sat with Sonny like she was Florence Nightingale or someone, twitching at his covers, sighing over his cheeks and eyelashes and the rise and fall of his little chest. Acting like he was the cutest thing she ever saw, all the time only four years older than him.
    â€œHas he been all right?” Bee said. “He feels hot.”
    â€œA bit moody; he’s getting a cold.”
    I asked if me and Stroma should go. I didn’t want to be any trouble.
    â€œNo, don’t,” said Carl. “No, it’s great you’re here. I’ll make some supper before his lordship wakes up. You two do whatever. Come and help me, Stroma. Be my sous-chef.”
    They disappeared to the kitchen and we stayed where we were, watching Sonny sleeping like he was TV.
    â€œHe’s lovely,” I said.
    â€œHe’s gorgeous.”
    I felt bad for moaning so much about Stroma, for making her sound like hard work. I thought, I bet Bee helps out loads and does it better than me and never complains about it. I said something about her being such a good person.
    â€œYou’re just making stuff up,” she said. “What makesme better than you? What are you talking about?” She was laughing.
    â€œWell, you’re nice about everyone. You never complain.”
    â€œI just don’t do that out loud. You should be inside my head.”
    â€œAre you a monster in there?” I said.
    Bee looked dead serious. Funny serious. She narrowed her eyes. “You have no idea.”
    It cracked me up.
    â€œWas Jack a good person?” she said. “Do you mind me asking?”
    â€œI don’t mind at all. I like talking about him. You know that.”
    â€œOK, so was he a good person the way you say I am or whatever?”
    â€œHe was the best person,” I said, and I did a really good job of smiling. “Everyone knew that. He was always helping