Page 114 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
Her father touched Grandad’s shoulder. “Where are we from,Dad? I’d like to know myself.”
“Wardenclave.” Pride tinged George Reaverson’s grudgingadmission. “We’re originally from Wardenclave.”
THIRTY-NINE
Full Display
After the wolf dismissed them in order to bring thevisiting dignitaries back to his lair—or whatever they called it—Joeaccidentally cornered Ash by the pinball machines. “Need a quarter?” Joeoffered.
“Next time?” Ash asked, his gaze soft and serious. Like hewas worried there wouldn’tbea next time, but he wouldn’t blame anyonefor steering clear.
Joe didn’t want for things to be awkward, and that meantsaying something. But historically, that was just another kind of awkward.Still, it helped that he wasn’t seven anymore. “We still come pretty often.Mostly on Mondays.”
Ash’s head tilted. “Is that an invitation?”
“Sure.” Joe hoped that was enough, because he couldn’t thinkof anything to add.
But it was the same with Ash as it had been with Mr. Black.He understood all the stuff that was hard to say, even if Joe never got aroundto saying it.
Ash reached out to touch his arm. “Eight o’clock. Tag alongwith your sister. Kip will be there, too.”
Joe nodded too many times, but he was excited to be asked. Evenso, he couldn’t help mumbling, “Are you sure?”
“Of you? You bet. Of myself? Not so much.” He sucked in abreath and puffed out his cheeks, only to exhale on a weak chuckle. “One thingkind of cheers me up, though.”
“Yeah?”
“If she’ll have me, we’ll be brothers.”
They’d only been home five minutes when Dad announced,“Family meeting! We’re past due, and we’re all here. Let’s do this!”
Joe cringed. Reaverson family meetings were a round-robinaffair, during which everyone took a turn revealing information. He’d alwayssuspected that his parents cooked the whole thing up in order to figure outwhat was on his mind. Becauseeveryonehad to contribute something.Which meant Joe needed to figure out what to say.
“If it won’t take too long,” said Tami, her eyes on theclock.
She’d come home with them—making this the third time she’dabandoned her car in town—in order to get ready for whatever was meant tohappen at eight. Since Kip was involved, Joe figured it had something to dowith sigils.
It was hard not to wonder how much Ash’s happiness washurting Kip. He’d been nothing but cheerful at the restaurant. Downed enoughpizza to feed a family of four. Ran interference with Dad over Ash. Evenchallenged the fox lady to air hockey. She’d won.
Grandad, who’d grabbed up the television remote, pocketed itwith a grumble. “Documentary at eight,” he said.
Tami immediately relaxed. “I’ll bring Biddie down.”
Mom did a doubletake. “How did you know she was upstairs?”
Probably the same way Joe had known. It was a little sadthat so many of his ties to Tami weren’t really twin-sense. Then again, Melissawas a reaver, and he wasn’t nearly as sensitive to her. Grandad, either. And itwas pretty obvious now that his grandfatherhadto be a reaver. He’deven been born in the most famous reaver village in the world, the birthplaceof the In-between.
“Should I give you some space?” asked Melissa.
“Nonsense. You’re family,” Mom insisted, then launched intoan explanation of how to participate.
Dad and Mom likednews, so everyone was supposed toshare something that nobody else at the table could know. Plans, updates,events, and gossip. Joe usually stuck to farm-based news—harvest tallies, chickhatchings, tractor repairs, critter sightings. Ever since the Emergence,Grandad had seized these opportunities to regale them with random facts aboutthe Rivven and reavers. They’d always assumed he was quoting some documentaryor news report. In retrospect, Joe had to wonder if he’d been speaking fromexperience.
Joe slid into his usual seat next to Tami, who had Biddie onher lap.
Dad called the meeting to order and launched straight intogossip. “I suspect that our Tami is in love.”
Mom laughed and one-upped him. “I suspect that our Melissais in love.”
