Page 25 of Please Send Snow
Of course my dad also told me that Angel Mountain would take care of me, and right now, it looks like the shoe is on the other foot. But if I don’t play along, I’ll losethis last little piece I have of him, and I’m not going to let that happen without a fight.
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “I’d better get back to them before they start to wonder what’s going on. But I’ll keep you posted on my schedule.”
“Thank you, Maddie,” Michael says, his warm blue eyes full of gratitude.
I won’t let you down,I promise him silently.
I just hope I can keep that promise.
7
JAKE
Ifinish my coffee as Dylan works away at his letter.
Maddie has been gone for at least five minutes now. What in the world can she be choosing for amenities in this sleepy little lodge? They should probably be able to lay out all their offerings in about thirty seconds.
She’s spoiled, I can’t help thinking to myself. She’s supposed to be slumming it here and she’s got the whole staff scurrying around bringing her meals and planning her fun. She must be spending an arm and a leg, because they sure weren’t giving me this kind of service yesterday.
If she’s so spoiled, then why does she still seem so humble?
There’s something about Maddie that always makes me feel like she’s on the verge of apologizing. She’s just so…earnest, or at least she seems that way. I can’t put my finger on it, but the Foster heiress is a bit of a mystery to me.
Do I only care because she’s a pretty young thing who seems to adore my son?
Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. I just need help with Dylan and I have to stop thinking about Maddie Foster like she’s anything more than a babysitter.
Dylan sits back to admire his work, and I lean over to look at the list.
I wnt a tran set
Wrm clos for Made
Ples snd snow
The train set I get, and he asked for snow yesterday too, though both are a little closer to correctly spelled than yesterday’s attempt.
She’s actually teaching him something with her we’re-just-having-fun approach.
“What’s that?” I ask him, pointing at the middle item.
“Warm clothes for Maddie,” he says solemnly.
My heart clenches.
He’s worried about whether she has warm clothes. I gaze at him in wonder as he turns back to his letter, reading over the list again.
“Can you fix it?” he asks me.
“Sure,” I tell him, sort of pleased that he’s not just waiting for Maddie. Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t see herself on the list.
I take a second to mark up each item and then pass it back to him.
He rips off the page and sets it beside the pad before industriously copying the corrected words.
Who would have thought he’d be so motivated toread and write like this? Maybe it’s because he’s asking for things. Everyone wants something.
But what Dylan wants is so sweet. He certainly didn’t learn that kind of empathy from his mother.
