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Show Twisters . . . 18 SEVEN O'CLOCK Arthur helped me do dishes and fold diapers both that night. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, once he caught on to Mom's quick-flip system, his diaper pile grew faster than mine. Mostly, we didn't talk while we worked. I think Arthur knew I was feeling bad. I couldn't forget what Dad had said, no matter how hard I tried to turn my mind to Stacey or something pleasant. I kept hearing him say, "The sun doesn't rise and set on you!" Accent the you. The truth is, I'd never once thought the sun rose and set on me, so why would he say that? I shook my head and carried the folded diapers down the hall to Ryan's room. Mom was rocking him to sleep, but she smiled at me--and winked--as if she knew how bad I felt. A little later, while Arthur and I were trying to decide if we wanted to ride bikes or hang around waiting for "Happy Days" on TV, Aunt Goldie popped in at the kitchen door. She was wearing pink shorts and a frilly blouse, carrying a coffee can full of strawberries. "Hi, guys," she greeted us. She held up the can before setting it in the sink, "From Mrs. Smiley«s garden," she explained. "Where's your Mom, D.J.?" (That's short for Daniel John.) "She's getting Ryan to sleep. He's been a terror all day." "Oh no," she said, making a face. Then she bent down and hugged me. "It'8 not always easy having a baby in the house, is it?" I was glad somebody understood. She peeked down the hall, but came right back, her finger to her lips. "I'd better not disturb them. Linda would kill me." Now, I love my aunt and all that, but I didn't want to get stuck having to sit there and talk to her while Mom was busy with Ryan. I made a quick decision and got to my feet. |