“Whadaya mean?” I came to his rescue immediately. “Andrew adores you, I don’t remember a time he’s been so happy since Mama died, Daddy’s proud as a PTA mom, braggin’ to everyone that’ll listen about Andrew goin’ to the ‘World’s Most Elite Military Academy.’”
Pete gave me a wry smile. “I still don’t have your father’s signature of agreement. We can’t continue spending money on a dead end. I’m the ambassador for the school. If I can’t get the family to sign up for the program, then I’m not doing a very good job representing our organization. If it looks like the family, in this case your father, won’t sign, then they pull the plug on the mission.” (I noticed this was the first time he’d actually used that word.)
“Is that what this meetin’s about?”
“I think so. It’s taking longer”—he gave me another wry smile—“than we thought.”
“Isn’t Andrew exactly what y’all are lookin’ for?” I argued.
“Yes, Andrew is a very desirable candidate. However, he’s not the only one in the world. They’ll move on to another potential cadet soon, one in New Guinea or New Zealand, for example. Or—” he broke off, looking tense.
“Or what?” He shook his head, and I attached myself to his arm. “Tell me, Pete! I have a right to know. This is my brother we’re talkin’ about!”
He expelled some pent-up air. “They might replace me with another cadet—a superior with more experience most likely.”
Oh God. “Ranger?”
One sharp confirmation nod. Our eyes met, communicating the same thing —alarm.
“Noooooo!” dropped from my mouth. “They can’t do that!” Pete’s silence spoke volumes. “We won’t allow it!” He smiled, a little sadly at me. “I won’t allow it. I would never work with him!” I insisted staunchly.
“I wasn’t aware you’d been working with me,” he said with a little ironic smile. “And let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.” He moved to get out when something possessed my hand to clamp onto his arm again.
“Pete, will you get into trouble? You know . . . if Daddy doesn’t sign?”
He shifted his eyes to the milling crowd doing their mass exit. When he looked back, it was with the warmest eyes; it made me feel like my bones were melting. “I’m touched, Kate . . . I didn’t think you cared.” He moved to get out again, but I held him in a death-grip.
“Will you?” I had a feeling this was as bad for Pete as it was for us. That put a whole different spin on things.
“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed. “I’m not.” Then he removed himself from my car and quite possibly from my life.
I watched him go, unable to tear my eyes away from his departing back. If you can believe it, Ashley-Leigh was still waiting around for him, gleefully running over and throwing her arms around his neck to dangle like a human garland. She has some balls. I hoped she’d get a handful of demerits for being late to practice.
Maybe her effort was worth the wait, because I saw him give her a quick side hug and mouth something to her. Whatever it was, it made her laugh and glow pinker than her lip gloss. That was it though. He quickly slid into his truck and drove off with a courtesy wave out the window. I guess it was enough for her because she walked away grinning as triumphantly as if she’d just been crowned homecoming queen.
Pete had that effect on you.
31
BAKING AMENDS
So I went ahead with my shopping spree even though my heart was no longer in it. I mean, who cared if I looked cute if the person I wanted to look cute for wasn’t around? But I’d already mentioned it to Mikey. And Walmart was a place that boy loved with his whole heart, so no way could I ship out straight for home and chores without hitting the super-center first.
I randomly picked out some jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, the changing weather outside and the imminent demise of my crush most likely affecting my choices. Not even bothering to try them on, I headed off to the toy aisle. Mikey fist-pumped my decision. As I absentmindedly watched him wreck the display toys, pushing buttons and pulling levers with wild abandon, I mulled over what Pete had revealed. He’d called me “one tough nut to crack.” That was the closest he’d come to admitting outright that I was some kind of mark to be won over, so we’d all feel just peachy about signing Andrew’s life away. But I’d proven tougher than expected.
This was obviously why they sent charming ambassadors with chiseled faces—to lure prospective families in, like scouts trying to sway sports stars into playing for their teams. And if the families still felt reluctant to give their children away, they moved on to bribes. Any way you wanted to look at it, it was a nasty business—cherry-picking the world’s brightest kids out from under their parents. I didn’t care how much legal paperwork was involved; it was akin to kidnapping in my book.
How could Pete be involved in such a sinister organization? I harbored the suspicion he didn’t even like the academy he was trumpeting, even though he was trying hard not to show it.
“Kadee . . .” Mikey stuck a plastic replica of a Hummer between me and his rubber cheeks. “Can I have this?”
“I don’t know, sweetie . . . how much is it?” I dug in my wallet even though I was sure we didn’t have enough. Maybe if I put back the jeans?
“It’s twenty-four, ninety-nine dollars,” he matter-of-factly read the numbers on the tag.
I chuckled. “Wow. That’s a lotta money.”
Mikey’s shoulders immediately sagged. “I know . . . but it’s just wike Pete’s.”
I deliberated. I’d planned to buy the boys a couple of long-sleeved shirts, always having to be practical. I thought of Daddy covertly spending that IEA money on who-knows-what?—not groceries or new coats for us kids, that’s for sure. Really perusing the contents of my wallet now, I recounted the money mentally subtracting what all I had to buy. Hmmm. I could swear there was an extra twenty that wasn’t there earlier. Again.
A funny feeling came over me.
“You know what, Mike?” The lift in my voice turned his hopeful face gleeful. “It’s yours.”
“Yay!” Trophy Hummer held over his head, Mikey ran and dumped it into the cart before hurling himself into my arms.
“You deserve it,” I said, squeezing him to me. “You’re such a good boy.” He tilted his head back, grinning to the gum line. “I know . . . I haven’t made anybody do nothin’ in cwass for a wong time!”
I laughed at his funny wording, leading him away from the toy-traps. “That’s good to know. How about doin’ somethin’ for me instead?”
“What, Kadee?” He looked up at me, earnestness personified. “. . . I’d do anything for you.”
“Even help me pick out which color lip gloss looks the prettiest on me?”
Mikey giggled as embarrassed as if I’d asked him to put on a frilly dress and skip around the store with me.
I bent the top of his ear. “How about if we try to find the exact same shade of pink as your ear?”