Other Shepards Read Online Free PDF

says. I smile; I won my bet after all.
    Geneva plunks down her water, bolts up from her chair, and motors out of the dining room and up the stairs so fast that the liquid is still shifting back and forth in her goblet when we hear her bedroom door slam. That was rude, Mom will reprimand her later, not to say good night to our guests. I know Mom wants me to linger to make up for Geneva. And so I stay, although Mom’s next sentence makes me wish that I had disappeared while I had the opportunity.
    “Holland, I meant to tell you. I ran into Angie Hill this afternoon.” Blech —Mrs. Hill. The only woman on the planet known to have given birth to a night crawler, now age fourteen and a freshman at Bishop Brown High School, which must have a relaxed policy on admitting night crawlers.
    “Oh, really?” I smile politely and hope Mom is not leading up to a mention of Aaron. No such luck. “She told me that Aaron wasn’t going to fencing camp, and so they’ll all be down at the shore this summer. They’re renting on Bayberry, one road over from us, during the same two weeks that we’re there. Isn’t that fun?”
    “Yes, I guess, except that Aaron and me—”
    “Aaron and I.”
    “Aaron and I aren’t exactly as good friends as we were when we were little kids,” I say, remembering last Christmas, when the Hills came over and Aaron, as a kind of nonfunny joke, kept calling me his “kissing cousin” and tried to drag me under the mistletoe. Both sets of parents had laughed indulgently, and I’d finally let him plant one on my cheek. His gooey lips slid like a worm across my skin, and that’s when I privately had rechristened Aaron.
    “No,” Mom corrects my opinion. “You forget how well the two of you get along, because you don’t spend enough time together anymore. Remember that game, that unicorn game you both made up on the merry-go-round in Central Park? You two loved that game. It was all Angie and I could do to pull you off those horses.” There is laughter from every mouth at the table except mine.
    “That was in second grade,” I say, annoyed. “But sure, I guess it’ll be nice to have Aaron around this summer.” The dutiful daughter. Mom smiles and I know I have won her favor.
    “It was awesome to see you both, Brett and Carla. And if you ever want me to baby-sit Freddie, I’d like to. Anytime.” I circle the table, careful not to be the bluebird of Ickness, no kissing and hugging anyone too hard, although Brett’s aftershave is wonderful and spicy. “Happy Birthday, Mom. Good night, everyone.” Mom is still smiling. A job well done: not too abrupt, not too straggly, just enough sweetness.
    “She’s very dear,” Carla says after I have left the dining room and am walking up the stairs.
    “Holland, thankfully, does not cause us a moment’s worry.” Dad’s voice is loud from wine, and I stop, not breathing, a hand squeezing each banister. “Responsible, and she’s smart as a whip. She did the most extraordinary science project last semester on human cell division. The diorama’s still in the den, if you want to have a look. Meiosis, mitosis, mitochondria … She made the vacuoles out of hair gel and sandwich baggies. Pretty clever, eh?”
    “A head for science, just like her old man.” Brett’s voice. Then Dad again, even louder.
    “I’m going to try to get her a summer internship at the University. I’ve started on the paperwork. I don’t anticipate a problem. High honors in science on her report card every …”
    I run up the stairs, suddenly conscious of my eavesdropping, and yet tingling with anger. I had no idea about a summer internship, or that Dad had taken my science project this seriously. It is just like my father, though, to plan my life behind my back and then spring it on me. I’ll have to figure out a countermaneuver, maybe start looking into summer jobs or camps. What could be worse than spending my vacation hunched over a Bunsen burner? Just because I’m good