Daniel's Gift Read Online Free PDF

Constance liked Jenny. It made her feel as if she was competing for her daughter's love, something a perfect mother should not have to do.
    As far as Merrilee was concerned, Jenny hadn't done anything right since she had arrived two weeks late for her own birth. As a teenager, Jenny had worn makeup, neglected her homework, and ignored Merrilee's every suggestion. It got worse when their mother died. Jenny didn't listen to anyone. Then she had the nerve to come home pregnant, splitting the family even further apart.
    With Thanksgiving just around the corner, Merrilee was reminded that once again she would have to beg Jenny, Matt, and their father, John, to come to her house for dinner. Then, she'd have to play peacemaker all day. But she would do it, because the holidays were important to her, and families should be together.
    Come hell or high water, Merrilee was determined that her family would have a happy holiday this year. That was the way it was supposed to be. She could make it happen. She just had to try harder.
    "Mother." Constance waved her hand in front of her face. "I asked if anyone called me today?"
    Merrilee stared at her daughter as the words sunk in. "Did you check the message pad in the hall?"
    "Yes, but I thought maybe you forgot to write something down. I'm expecting a call," Constance said somewhat hesitantly.
    Merrilee looked at her through narrowed eyes. "It's that boy, isn't it, the one you and Cassie are always whispering about? Why don't you tell me about him?"
    "Well, he's got the coolest haircut."
    "Haircut? Is that all you're concerned about?" Merrilee demanded.
    "No, but ... oh, forget it. I knew you wouldn't understand. He's not interested in me anyway."
    Merrilee felt relieved at this piece of information. She didn't want to deal with dating just yet. She wasn't ready.
    Constance picked an apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter, rubbed it clean with the edge of her sleeve, then bit into it. "When's Daddy coming home?"
    "He's working late tonight."
    "Again? Are you two fighting?"
    Merrilee turned away from her daughter's inquisitive eyes. She didn't want to think about Richard's odd behavior, much less discuss it with Constance. Instead, she concentrated on lifting the hens out of the pan and onto a floral serving plate. "Your father and I never fight," she said finally. "We're very, very happy together." If she said it often enough, it would be true.
    "Daddy doesn't seem happy lately," Connie observed. "He never smiles anymore. When he's home, he sits in the family room watching sports."
    "Advertising is a tough business, and your father and I take our responsibilities as parents very seriously. You and William are going to get a good education. That costs money, especially if you go to Stanford."
    "I don't want to go to Stanford. I want to go to Berkeley."
    "I hardly think so, dear."
    "Mother." Eleven-year-old William Winston pushed open the kitchen door and frowned at them both. "There's a bug in my computer."
    "Oh, God," Constance shuddered. "I hope you closed your door."
    William rolled his eyes. "Not a bug, bug. A computer bug. A virus. I think it attacked my program. Half of my math homework is gone." William pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I'll have to re-input all my equations."
    "Why don't you just tell your teacher the dog ate your homework?" Constance suggested.
    "Miss Davenport wouldn't fall for that," William said. "Besides, I'm the best student in the class, and I don't want to wreck my GPA an unfinished homework assignment."
    Merrilee nodded approvingly. At least one of her children was on the right track. "You're a good boy."
    William smiled back at his mother, his earnest face pale from days spent inside the house, staring at his computer. For a moment, Merrilee felt a twinge of conscience. But she talked herself out of any guilt. William would be a brilliant businessman. With his high IQ and fascination with computers, she knew his future was secure.
    "When is