hands.
"Mercedes left that for you," Aunt Linda said from the doorway, making him jump. "She said it might come in handy on the trip."
How did Mercedes get involved? Were their travel plans posted on the town Web site? Or displayed on the magnetic sign in the university commons? Jack made a noise of disgust. Sometimes he hated living in a small town.
He ripped the paper away. It was a sleeveless vest, woven in a lightweight gray fiber that seemed familiar. Three silver buttons decorated the front. When Jack looked more closely, he saw they were the faces of three different bears, in silver, gold, and copper.
"Not exactly my style," he muttered, tossing it onto the bed. "And it's not even my birthday. But tell her thanks anyway."
What had gotten into Mercedes? She knew what kind of clothes he wore. Nothing more exotic than jeans and T-shirts. She saw him practically every day of the week.
Linda remained in the doorway, her arms folded. "Try it on," she said. Jack looked up, startled. He wanted to argue, but knew that if Linda meant for him to put the thing on, there was no point in fighting it.
"I feel stupid," he growled, snatching it up off the bed and pulling it on over his T-shirt. It fit perfectly. He finally realized what it reminded him of. It was made of the same yarn as the baby blanket Mercedes had made for him years ago, now packed away in a box under his bed.
"Looks good," Linda said. She twisted a lock of her hair between her finger and thumb. There was a tension about her that he hadn't noticed in the morning. She had just come from Nick's. Could the old caretaker have said something to upset her?
When he went to take the vest off, she put up her hand. "Leave it on."
He supposed he should be glad it wasn't pink with purple polka dots. Will and Fitch would have plenty to say about it.
"Thanks a lot, Aunt Linda. I hear this is what all the guys are wearing." Grumbling under his breath, he yanked open his bottom drawer and started packing.
Linda took in his sullen expression. "Look, I'm not out to embarrass you. It would just mean so much to … to Mercedes if you would wear it. Why don't you put a sweatshirt over it, if it makes you happier? It's chilly out anyway." And she smiled that smile that always made you want to please her.
Jack wondered how flattered Mercedes would be to know he was wearing her precious vest like underwear. He found his Ohio State sweatshirt on the floor, pulled it over his head, and zipped up the duffle. Then he remembered what he'd meant to tell her. "Oh, yeah. Will and Fitch are both coming," he said.
He thought she'd be pleased, but she frowned and said, "Oh," like she'd completely forgotten she'd invited them. "Maybe we should just go by ourselves," she suggested, after a pause.
Jack stared at her in disbelief. "You can't be serious. You were the one who told me to invite them in the first place."
She wrapped her arms around herself, shifting from one foot to the other. "I … it's just that—"
"Mom's packing enough food for an army. She even made brownies, for once, instead of those disgusting bran applesauce carrot bars."
"All right. Never mind. I just hope they get here soon. I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible."
She's moodier than I remember, Jack thought.
Back in the kitchen, Becka was just closing up the cooler. "This should tide you boys over if Linda won't stop to eat. She really does seem to be on a mission. I'll put your medicine in your duffel," she added pointedly, sliding the big blue bottle in with Jack's clothes. "Don't get so involved in family history that you forget to take it."
And then Will and Fitch arrived, seeming to fill up the kitchen. Will was wearing his varsity jacket, T-shirt, and blue jeans. Fitch wore an army issue camouflage jacket, a bright yellow sweatshirt with the logo of a country music station emblazoned on the front, and gray-green climbing pants with a red necktie threaded through for a belt.
Jack realized that
"Mercedes left that for you," Aunt Linda said from the doorway, making him jump. "She said it might come in handy on the trip."
How did Mercedes get involved? Were their travel plans posted on the town Web site? Or displayed on the magnetic sign in the university commons? Jack made a noise of disgust. Sometimes he hated living in a small town.
He ripped the paper away. It was a sleeveless vest, woven in a lightweight gray fiber that seemed familiar. Three silver buttons decorated the front. When Jack looked more closely, he saw they were the faces of three different bears, in silver, gold, and copper.
"Not exactly my style," he muttered, tossing it onto the bed. "And it's not even my birthday. But tell her thanks anyway."
What had gotten into Mercedes? She knew what kind of clothes he wore. Nothing more exotic than jeans and T-shirts. She saw him practically every day of the week.
Linda remained in the doorway, her arms folded. "Try it on," she said. Jack looked up, startled. He wanted to argue, but knew that if Linda meant for him to put the thing on, there was no point in fighting it.
"I feel stupid," he growled, snatching it up off the bed and pulling it on over his T-shirt. It fit perfectly. He finally realized what it reminded him of. It was made of the same yarn as the baby blanket Mercedes had made for him years ago, now packed away in a box under his bed.
"Looks good," Linda said. She twisted a lock of her hair between her finger and thumb. There was a tension about her that he hadn't noticed in the morning. She had just come from Nick's. Could the old caretaker have said something to upset her?
When he went to take the vest off, she put up her hand. "Leave it on."
He supposed he should be glad it wasn't pink with purple polka dots. Will and Fitch would have plenty to say about it.
"Thanks a lot, Aunt Linda. I hear this is what all the guys are wearing." Grumbling under his breath, he yanked open his bottom drawer and started packing.
Linda took in his sullen expression. "Look, I'm not out to embarrass you. It would just mean so much to … to Mercedes if you would wear it. Why don't you put a sweatshirt over it, if it makes you happier? It's chilly out anyway." And she smiled that smile that always made you want to please her.
Jack wondered how flattered Mercedes would be to know he was wearing her precious vest like underwear. He found his Ohio State sweatshirt on the floor, pulled it over his head, and zipped up the duffle. Then he remembered what he'd meant to tell her. "Oh, yeah. Will and Fitch are both coming," he said.
He thought she'd be pleased, but she frowned and said, "Oh," like she'd completely forgotten she'd invited them. "Maybe we should just go by ourselves," she suggested, after a pause.
Jack stared at her in disbelief. "You can't be serious. You were the one who told me to invite them in the first place."
She wrapped her arms around herself, shifting from one foot to the other. "I … it's just that—"
"Mom's packing enough food for an army. She even made brownies, for once, instead of those disgusting bran applesauce carrot bars."
"All right. Never mind. I just hope they get here soon. I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible."
She's moodier than I remember, Jack thought.
Back in the kitchen, Becka was just closing up the cooler. "This should tide you boys over if Linda won't stop to eat. She really does seem to be on a mission. I'll put your medicine in your duffel," she added pointedly, sliding the big blue bottle in with Jack's clothes. "Don't get so involved in family history that you forget to take it."
And then Will and Fitch arrived, seeming to fill up the kitchen. Will was wearing his varsity jacket, T-shirt, and blue jeans. Fitch wore an army issue camouflage jacket, a bright yellow sweatshirt with the logo of a country music station emblazoned on the front, and gray-green climbing pants with a red necktie threaded through for a belt.
Jack realized that
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