Jubilee's Journey (Wyattsville #2)(22)

She didn’t. In fact, she didn’t say anything, just shrugged her shoulders without ever removing her thumb from her mouth.

“Isn’t there some special breakfast you’d enjoy?” Olivia urged. “Cereal maybe? Or waffles with maple syrup?”

There was an almost imperceptible shake of Jubilee’s head.

“Bacon? French toast?”

This time there was not even a head shake.

Olivia tried another approach. “At home what do you have for breakfast?”

Jubilee pulled her thumb from her mouth and said, “Biscuits and gravy.”

“Oh, dear,” Olivia said. “I’m afraid that’s the one thing I don’t have.” She took Jubilee by the hand and tugged her into the kitchen. “Let’s see if we don’t have something almost as good.”

Promising that pancakes were every bit as good as biscuits and gravy, Olivia began mixing the batter. She wished the girl would talk, even if it was to argue or complain as Ethan had, but instead Jubilee sat there without saying a word. When an uncomfortable silence began to settle into the room, Olivia padded it with the sound of her own words. She began by describing the step-by-step process of pancake making, then moved on to the fact that it promised to be another cloudy day as opposed to the sunshine she’d been wishing for. For almost ten minutes she rattled on about anything and everything except what was at the forefront of her mind: the child’s missing brother. After she’d set three plates of pancakes on the table, she called Ethan.

“Hurry up,” she said, “or you’ll be late for school.”

Jubilee’s eyes brightened. “We’re going to school?”

Olivia turned and smiled. “Ethan has to go to school today, but you can stay here with me.”

“I don’t want to stay here. I want to go to school with Ethan.”

Before Olivia could answer Ethan Allen slid into his seat and said, “You can’t. My school’s just for big kids.”

“I go to school with Paul, and he’s big.”

Ethan shoved a chunk of pancake into his mouth and didn’t answer.





Although Olivia tried to avoid thinking about Paul, he had come to breakfast. He was in the room, a ghost, as real as a person waiting to be served up an order of pancakes. The missing brother was as Charlie had been in the early months, not here and not quite gone. How strange it seemed that a woman with so many years of living behind her and a child with a like number of years in front of her should experience the same empty-hearted longing.

“Well, Jubilee,” she said, “I have a lot of baking to do today, and I was hoping you’d be able to help me. You do like to bake cookies, don’t you?”

Jubilee gave a half-hearted shrug. “I never made cookies.”

“Well, wouldn’t you like to learn?”

Before Jubilee could answer Ethan volunteered to stay home and help.

“Absolutely not,” Olivia replied. “You’re going to school.”

“Grandma, I gotta tell you, making me go to school ain’t such a good idea.”

“Isn’t such a good idea,” Olivia corrected. “And why isn’t it?”

“We got a history test today, and I studied but I ain’t nowhere near ready. Gimme a few more days and—”

“You’re going to school.” The finality of Olivia’s words ended the discussion. Fifteen minutes later Ethan Allen begrudgingly picked up his books and headed for the door.

Jubilee followed him through the living room and stopped when he opened the door. “Bye, Ethan” she said sadly.

“Bye,” he answered, then was gone.





Once Olivia was alone with the child, the uncomfortable silence was back. Olivia pulled the flour and sugar from the cabinet.

“Cooking and baking always helps me to feel better when I’m worried about something,” she told Jubilee. “I bet it will help you too.”

There was no answer.

Olivia continued on. Just as she’d given the step-by-step of pancake making, she now went into cookie baking. Once she’d mixed in the melted butter and eggs, she fluffed a covering of flour on the counter and plopped the ball of dough in the middle. She pulled a rolling pin from the drawer, and for the first time since Ethan left the girl spoke.

“I can do that,” she said and reached for the rolling pin.

Olivia smiled. “I thought you said you never made cookies.”

Jubilee looked up with a sly smile. “This’s same as making biscuits,” she countered and began rolling out the dough.

Once Olivia busied Jubilee with the second batch, she slipped into the living room and called Clara. “I apologize for hustling you out the door,” she said, “but I was afraid you’d say something to upset the child.”

“I hardly think that excuses—”

“I know,” Olivia replied, “but under the circumstances…”

She went on to say that she didn’t want to burden the girl with such bad news until she had a bit of good news. She explained how there was an aunt who hopefully lived in Wyattsville and hopefully had the last name of Walker. “I’m hoping to find this woman, so Jubilee can at least be with family.”

“That sounds like a whole lot of hoping without much to go on.”