Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) (83 page)

Aggie
passed
her
phone
around
the
room
so
the
children
and
her
parents
could
see
Luke
wearing
his
shirt.
As
she
typed
out
a
response,
she
reminded
him
that
she
hadn’t
given
him
his
gift
and
told
him
she
was
saving
the
one
he’
d
left
under
the
tree
for
when
he
came
over
again.
HUG
YOUR
MOM
FOR
ME,
she
added
as
an
afterthought.

Tavish
squeezed
her
excitedly
once
he
unwrapped
the
snowshoes
she’d
thought
were
a
dumb
idea
but
had
risked
anyway.
Out
the
backdoor
he
ran,
eager
to
see
if
they
worked.
Lorna
and
Cari
stood
at
the
dining
room
window,
watching
with
evident
glee.
“He
looks
like
a
penguin!
Hey!
He
fell
down.
I
thought
they
were
supposed
to
make
it
easy!”

“I
think
they
do
if
you
know
how
to
use
them,”
Kenzie
chimed
, following
them
to
watch.
“He’s
still
a
novel
at
them.”

“Novice,
Kenzie.”

“Right.
Novice.
Because
novels
are
for
novelties?”
The
girl’s
eyes
brightened
as
the
cogs
clicked
into
what
she
considered
perfect
places.
“And
novelties
are
short
novels,
right?”

Aggie
giggled.
“Not
quite.
Sh
ort
novels
are
novellas
now.
All
novels
were
once
novellas.
It
all
comes
from
the
same
thing,
but
one
kind
of
novel
is
now
a
book—”
She
could
see
the
child’s
eyes
glazing
over
and
chose
to
stop
it.
“Well,
anyway.
It’s
close,
but
not
quite.
Look,
he’s
doing
great
now!”

Just then, Sammie dashed around the corner of the house, obviously having escaped their latest attempt to keep the dogs penned where they belong, and jumped on Tavish, knocking him over.
“Well, he was doing great anyway.”

“How come the dogs don’t need snowshoes?” Cari asked.

Kenzie snorted.
“Because they’d just eat them.”

~*~*~*~

Her
door
pushed
open
slightly
as
Vannie
knocked
gently
on
it.
“Aunt
Aggie?”

“Come
in.
It’s
safe
now.”

She
shoved
her
laptop
aside,
closing
the
lid.
With
pillows
to
support
them
and
blankets
up
to
their
chins,
aunt
and
niece
began
a
difficult
but
important
conversation.
“I
think
something
is
wrong
with
Laird,”
Vannie
blurted
out
without
ceremony.

“I’ve
wondered
the
same
thing.
Why
do
you
think
so?”

Nervous
fingers
picked
at
the
bedspread
while
Vannie
worked
to
articulate
the
troubles
in
her
heart.
“He
said
something
about
the
heating
vents
being
shut
off
in
the
spare
room
and
then
something
about
too
much
school.
It
wasn’t
what
he
said
really,
but
the
way
he
said
it
was
weird.
Laird
doesn’t
even
care
about
that
stuff!
I
don’t
understand
what
is
going
on.”

The
girl
was
right.
It
didn’t
sound
like
what
he’d
said
was
too
terrible,
but
Vannie
wasn’t
likely
to
overreact
over
a
few
words.
No,
something
else
had
to
be
bothering
her.
One
look
at
those
hands—nearly
shaking
with
the
weight
of
whatever
was
pressing
on
her—told
Aggie
she
had
to
ask.
“There’s
something
more,
isn’t
there?”