Page 34 of The Surprise
GO OUT AND MEET SOME NEW PEOPLE.
WHAT IF I DON’T WANT TO MEET NEW PEOPLE? WHAT IF I ALREADY MET THE ONLY PERSON I WANT TO MEET?
I went too far, apparently, because she doesn’t reply after that. I tossed and turned half the night, which is why I was late getting the cows fed that morning. It didn’t help that Mom had an early meeting, but the combination meant that the kids missed the bus. Aunt Amanda took her girls early to do something at that store she’s starting, which is such a stupid idea that I don’t even know where to start, so I’m kind of stuck.
I’m groaning as I wave them all into the Tahoe. The last thing I wanted to do was interrupt my ranch tasks by driving three kids to school in Manila, but I try not to complain too much.
“Ethan,” Gabe says.
“Yeah?” I sound a little terse, so I add the word, “Buddy.” Then I sigh. “What’s up?”
“Do you think Dad’s watching us from heaven?”
I glance sideways at Izzy, who’s sitting in the passenger’s seat. “Uh.”
“Yes,” Izzy says. “He is. Mom says so.”
Gabe nods. “Then do you think he knows where I hide my candy?”
Izzy snorts. “Uh, yeah, probably.”
Our little brother’s shoulders slump and he looks at his feet. “Will he tell Mom, do you think?”
Izzy laughs louder than me or Whitney.
“Why is that funny?” Gabe asks. “Aunt Amanda bought me gummy bears last time we went to the store, and they’re my favorite. I need to know if I should eat them all today, or if I can eat just a few every day.”
“I think a few a day should be safe,” Izzy says.
“Roscoe’s more likely to rat you out than Dad is,” Whitney says.
Gabe nods slowly, like that makes sense. “Roscoe doesn’t even like them, though, so I think it’s fine.”
“You gave some to Roscoe?” I can’t help cringing.
“He eats anything,” Gabe says. “He ate my salad last night. Except not gummy bears. He spit those out, and I didn’t want Mom to see, so I had to eat them, and they were all slimy.”
I cringe. “Oh, Gabe.”
“What?”
I’m the one who gets stuck cleaning it up when Roscoe has an upset stomach, so aside from the obvious ick factor of Gabe eating after a dog, I’m not really happy to hear that Gabe’s the one causing all the diarrhea. “No more salad and no more candy for Roscoe, okay? They’re not good for him.”
“But I’ve seen Emery feed him her broccoli.” Gabe’s voice always sounds so innocent, even when he’s saying horrible things.
“Gah, don’t let her do that either,” I say. “Dogs aren’t supposed to eat that stuff.”
“Actually,” Whitney says, “I read that dogs can eat a variety of things, including vegetables, as long as they don’t eat chocolate or grapes.”
“They aren’t supposed to eat cooked bones either,” Izzy says.
“Or pecans,” Gabe says.
“But I think your gummy bears are safe,” Izzy says. “So don’t worry.”
We’re finally at the school, and I’m in the process of dropping the kids off when I notice a girl in a bright pink t-shirt climbing out of a car in the parking lot. Her hair’s pulled back into a ponytail so it’s harder to tell, but it looks like Beth. It might be a little creepy, but once the kids are all out and halfway to their respective school doors, I shoot forward, blocking her path. When she looks up, I can’t help smiling.
It’s her.
