It's Only Temporary by Sally Warner

exhausted even back then – saying just last March. “And maybe this is exactly the show of confidence he needs.”
    Well, Skye thought sadly, he’d shown
them.
    And so now, instead of her being a little girl relying on her brother to pull her around the neighborhood in his Radio Flyer wagon, she was a girl whose big brother needed
her.
Or he might, someday.
    Skye thought about it almost every night: Was it still “two steps forward, one step back” for Scott, as Ms. Santina once put it?
    It was impossible to tell without being in Albuquerque, because Scott never talked much in his e-mails about how his rehab was going. And whenever her mom and dad called Sierra Madre, they were obviously trying to stay “focused on the positive,” as Skye’s dad liked to say.
    Gran didn’t seem to know how Scott was doing, either,judging by the questions she asked. But then, Skye’s mom and dad had always taken pride in not blabbing about their problems – even to family.

    But what if Scott stopped moving forward at all? Would she, Skye, have to step in someday and help take care of him?
    Skye didn’t know how she felt about that. After all, Scott had messed up big-time, while she had always tried to be the
good
kid. So was this going to be her reward?
    â€œAre you cold?” Gran asked Skye, noticing the shiver.
    â€œNo, I’m fine,” Skye said. “But what made you think of Thanksgiving, Gran?” she asked, as the still-muted movie resumed, following a string of commercials.
    â€œOh,” Gran said, smiling. “It’s just a little something I’ve been dreaming up. You’ll find out soon enough, my darling.”

13
Trick-or-Treat
    â€œH appy three-days-before-Halloween,” an excited Maddy said as Skye answered the front door. “You look – are you supposed to be, like, a girl ninja warrior?” she asked Skye, looking momentarily confused as she adjusted her kitten ears.
    Maddy was wearing a pink plush costume that looked like pajamas, if you didn’t count the tail, Skye observed, wishing now that she had time to change. She had chosen a costume that was the closest to invisible that she could come up with: scowly dark eyebrows, skinny black pants, a black shirt buttoned all the way up to her neck, and a fake orchid pinned to her chest. Anyone in Albuquerque or Santa Fe would know who she was supposed to be.
    â€œI’m Georgia O’Keeffe,” she told Maddy, soundinggrouchy. “She was a famous artist who used to live in New Mexico. She always dressed in black.”
    â€œWhy?” Maddy asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Skye said, irritated by the question. “Because it was easy, I guess. At least her clothes always matched.”
    â€œWell, you certainly couldn’t go trick-or-treating dressed like that, or you’d get run over,” Gran said, bustling into the front hall holding her car keys. “But I guess it’s fine for a party. Maddy, you look darling,” she said.
    Maddy beamed and fiddled with her fuzzy ears again. “I’m really happy I was invited,” she said. “This is the best thing that has happened to me since forever.”
    Skye scowled, still worrying about her costume.
    Maddy cocked her head. “You
really
look like a ninja warrior when you make that face, Skye,” she said. “Maybe that’s what you should say you are, when we get to Amanda’s house, because more people would guess right than if you said you were Georgie Keef.”

    â€œ
Jor-ja Oh-Keefe
,” Skye said, trying not to snap, because it was just plain weird for someone like Maddy – notthat Skye meant anything bad by that! – to be so worried and protective about her, Skye McPhee. “Georgia O’Keeffe is extremely well known,” Skye said, softening her tone. “She painted orchids and bones and stuff.”
    â€œWhy?” Maddy asked as Gran