Why the Star Stands Still (Gives Light Series) by Rose Christo Read Free Book Online Page B

critically analyzing whatever we'd said, trying to find the trap in it.  But I guess she didn't find one, because she shrugged.
     
    "Yeah," she said.  "I'm hungry."
     
    "Come on," I said.
     
    She picked up her backpack and followed us into the kitchen.  She sat down on a scrubbed pine chair and watched us with calculating eyes.
     
    "Want to try cornmeal cookies?" I asked.
     
    She gave me a jerky little half-nod.
     
    I opened the cabinet above the wood-coal stove.    I took out a tied cellophane bag and set it on the table.  Michaela peered at it; she twisted it open and reached inside.
     
    "What do you like to drink?" I asked.  "Milk?  Juice?"
     
    "Juice," she said.
     
    I gave Rafael a meaningful look.  Was he just going to stand there all day?
     
    He must have caught the gist of my glance.  He strode across the kitchen and opened the icebox.
     
    I noticed Michaela sneaking cookies into her backpack.  I can't explain why that made me feel so sad.
     
    "Hey," I said.  She quickly dropped her backpack and sat up straight.  "Have you ever been on a raft before?"
     
    She hesitated.  "What's that?"
     
    Rafael set a glass of elderberry juice on the table in front of her.  "It's like a boat," he said.  "Only you don't sit in it.  You sit on it.  Every year we have a raft race in June."
     
    "What do you think?" I said.
     
    Michaela chewed slowly on a cornmeal cookie.  Her eyes, sharp and brown, pierced right through me.
     
    She swallowed.
     
    "Let's not kid ourselves," she said.  I'm surprised my jaw didn't drop open.  "I'm only here until you get sick of me and kick me to the curb."
     
    I looked to Rafael.
     
    Rafael cleared his throat.  "We're not kicking you out," he said.  "You can stay as long as you want."
     
    "Even if I go crazy and start smashing all the windows?"
     
    "I'd prefer it if you didn't," I said, "but yes, even if you go crazy and start smashing all the windows."
     
    "I don't believe you," Michaela said.
     
    "Then go ahead," I said.  "Smash a window."
     
    "He's joking," Rafael said quickly.
     
    "I'm not," I replied.  "I put the windows together.  It wouldn't be too difficult to make new ones.  I should warn you, though," I said to Michaela, "whatever you break, you're cleaning up the mess."
     
    She seemed to consider her options.
     
    "I'm good," she said, grimacing.  She took another cookie.
     
    When she had finished eating, she trailed upstairs to get a look at her room.  I started cleaning up around the kitchen.  Rafael raked his hands through his hair.
     
    "Would you relax?" I said.
     
    "I don't know what to do with her.  I thought I'd know what to do.  I thought it would be like dealing with Charity."
     
    "Charity's not your daughter," I said.  "She's your sister."  Well, cousin.  Shoshone regard their cousins as though they're siblings.  "That's a very different matter from being responsible for a child.  Give it time, Rafael.  You didn't love me at first sight, did you?"
     
    "No," he said.  "But I thought you were hot."
     
    "I'll never understand you," I said, warmed.
     
    That was when I heard it--a loud crash upstairs.
     
    I don't think Rafael or I wasted a second tearing out of the kitchen and up to the second floor.  We threw open Michaela's door, the door already ajar.  And there she was, standing by the bookcase, a book-shaped hole in the window.
     
    "Sorry," she murmured.  "It slipped."
     
    Rafael's face went from bewildered to outrageous in a matter of seconds.  I squeezed his arm.
     
    "That's fine," I told Michaela.  "You can sleep in the sitting room until I fix it."
     
    She nodded.
     
    "Go downstairs," I said.  "There's a dustpan in the closet.  You can clean up the glass."
     
    I wish I could say the rest of the day went smoothly.  Oh, there weren't any more broken windows--not that I'm aware of--but for the most part, Michaela holed herself up in her room and only ever came outside if she needed the outhouse.