“A train, stupid. Underground.”
“Don’t call me stupid, Nick!”
Tess grit her teeth. Twenty-four hours of this? “Your case worker will be here tomorrow, hopefully right after lunch. So can we all agree to do our best to get along with each other until he arrives and…” she paused, noticing Molly’s stricken face, “well…you know.”
Two pairs of solemn eyes stared up at her. Tess noticed for the first time the cowlick poking up from the crown of Nick’s head. He was just about shoulder level with her and his slender frame, weighed down by his backpack, made him appear frail and vulnerable. They were both just kids, she thought. Though not just any kids. The reminder was sobering.
“Okay, so follow me and no more arguing. In fact, no more talking until we get home and you can tell me how you managed to get all the way from Boulder, Colorado, to Chicago without attracting any attention.” Tess turned sharply and led the way to the underground.
No one uttered a word until the train was halfway to Tess’s stop in Lincoln Park. Then Molly, her dark eyes wide with wonder, exclaimed, “I’ve never been on a train before,” and clamped a hand over her mouth when she realized she’d just broken the silence edict. Tess impulsively smiled but saw that Nick’s glower couldn’t be shifted. He sat half-turned toward the window and stared through it the whole way. Every once in a while, Tess caught his reflection in the glass and once, their eyes met. He lowered his first, but not before a hint of a sneer twisted his upper lip.
Inexplicably, that bothered Tess. Wasn’t it enough that she was giving up most of a weekend to look after two children who, in spite of biology, were basically strangers? Miffed, she averted her own face to stare out the other window and was soon so lost in thought she almost missed her stop. She realized at the last instant, jumping to her feet and hustling the kids from the car seconds before the doors closed. On the platform, Tess laughingly cried, “That was close!” and Molly laughed, too.
Nick trudged toward the exit. As Tess was about to follow, Molly reached for her hand, slipping it casually into Tess’s. When they reached the upper level, Nick was slouched against a wall waiting for them, looking as if he were the most bored kid on earth. Still, Tess noted how his eyes flickered with interest from left to right as they exited the station and walked along the street.
As usual, the neighborhood was bustling on a Friday afternoon. Rush hour had already begun and Tess knew the expressways would be packed. She’d decided long ago to save herself the expense of a car in the city, especially since most of her waking hours were devoted to work.
They walked north along the lake and the outer edge of Lincoln Park. Tess glanced down at Molly, still clutching her hand, and saw her eyes grow bigger and bigger at each new sight. The park and zoo might be an option for tomorrow morning, she thought. Unless they slept in, though from what Tess had gathered about kids from the parents in her department, that wasn’t a likely occurrence.
The appearance of the six-story building where Tess lived elicited another gasp from Molly and, though Nick remained silent, Tess saw that his eyes widened, too. It had been renovated by a well-known architect when the area was undergoing a transformation from its more humble origins.
“You live here?”
Tess almost smiled at the wobble in Nick’s voice. She guessed what he was thinking. “Yes, but don’t worry. It’s not really a factory—just looks a bit like one from the outside.”
She unlocked the exterior door and led them into a foyer festooned with thick, multicolored tubular pipes that ran back and forth along the ceiling.
“I feel like I’m in Legoland,” Molly gasped.
“Yeah, right,” Nick scoffed. Still, his eyes gleamed as they scanned the foyer.
“Neat, isn’t it?” Tess remarked.
“Neat?”
There was a hint of disdain in his voice. “Well, whatever kids say these days,” she said.
“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled.
When they were on the elevator going up to Tess’s sixth-floor loft, Molly unexpectedly asked, “Do you have any other brothers or sisters?”
“God,” muttered Nick. “She didn’t even know she had us.”
“That’s not her fault,” Molly put in. “Anyway, we didn’t know about her either, until after the…”
Her unspoken word—accident—boomed in the silence. Tess struggled to find something to say, but was saved by the elevator reaching her floor. She stepped out first, noticing that now both kids were pale-faced and red-eyed. If Mavis were here, she thought, she’d feed them and send them to bed.
They didn’t utter a word when she unlocked her door, but Nick’s jaw dropped slightly and Molly gasped. The ten-foot ceiling-to-floor windows facing east afforded an impressive view of Lake Michigan. Since Tess spent most of her time at the office, she’d devoted little effort to furnishings. The sparseness of the condo added to the effect of space and light created by the unadorned windows.
The children stood in the doorway until Tess herded them inside. “The kitchen’s at the end of this main room and the bathroom’s off that hall there,” she said, pointing to her right, “just before the bedroom.”
“Is there a door on the bathroom?” Molly asked.
Tess smiled. “For sure. And on my bedroom, too.”
“Where will we sleep?”
“We’ll work that out. Just put your stuff anywhere. Are you two hungry? I know you just ate something but I can order pizza.”
“We just had french fries,” Molly said. “But by the time the pizza comes, I know I’ll be ready for it.”
Tess smiled. “What about you, Nick? Pizza?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
Tess hesitated. Did he want her to persuade him some more? Or was he really so indifferent?
“I only like pepperoni on mine,” said Molly, advancing farther into the living room.
“Oh?” Tess paused. She hadn’t given a thought to preferences. “And what about you, Nick?”
“Same,” he mumbled, letting his pack fall to the floor.
“Okay,” Tess murmured, mentally bidding goodbye to her usual feta, spinach and roasted red peppers. She headed for the galley kitchen at the opposite end of the room and used the telephone on the counter there to order. When she finished, she opened the refrigerator and took out the half bottle of Chardonnay she’d been sipping on that week. She’d just finished pouring a glass when she glanced up to see Molly watching her from the other side of the counter. “Uh, thirsty?”
Molly nodded. “But I don’t drink wine,” she said.
“I’ve got some cranberry juice and mineral water.”
Molly’s face screwed up in thought. “No milk?”
“Sorry. I drink my coffee black.”
“Apple juice?”
“Only cranberry. But if you want, I can call the pizza place back and get them to bring some pop with the order.”
The face brightened. “Okay! Coke, please.”
Tess reached for the phone. “Nick?” she asked.
He was standing in front of one of the windows, staring out. There was something about the slump of his shoulders. Maybe he wasn’t as tough as he was trying to be. “Sure,” he finally said.
“What kind?” Tess asked, impatience edging her voice.
Molly whispered, “He likes Coke, too.”
That