Read Online Dear Mr. Knightley by Katherine Reay - Free Book Online

could this be? So I started in.
    The pliers immediately slipped from my hand and the shell cut me. I sat for five minutes with my finger clutched in my napkin to stop the bleeding. That’s when I realized that Mrs. Walker hadn’t moved a muscle.
    “Stanley, call over a boy to help me.”
    “You can do this yourself, dear. This isn’t the club.” Mr. Walker sounded exasperated.
    “Mother, you can’t be serious?” Ashley sounded horrified.
    “I am. Call over a boy.” Lady Catherine was going to make her presence felt again.
    “You could try to crack it, dear.” Mr. Walker gave it one more try.
    “Do not discuss it further, Stanley. I will not play with my food. Call someone over this instant.”
    Mr. Walker raised his hand to the waiter and asked him to crack Mrs. Walker’s lobster or take it to the kitchen for someone to handle it. The poor guy looked really confused at first, then shrugged his shoulders and carted it away. I sat there clutching my finger in my lap, wishing I had the courage to send mine away too. Her lobster returned a few minutes later beautifully splayed out on her plate. Mine still stared at me. I was so jealous, but determined, once the bleeding stopped. Two bites and I tackled it in earnest. Lobster is yummy.
    During the Great Lobster Fight, I simply listened to the conversation. And after a few bites, I identified with Jane Bennet’s generous side; she never says a cross word about anyone. I even started a conversation with Mrs. Walker.
    “Do you enjoy visiting Chicago? Are the museums to your liking? Have you seen the new exhibit at the Institute?”
    Ashley tossed me a wry smile. She knew where I’d gone. Part of me felt exposed, but mostly I felt understood.
    That’s when I realized how unfair I’ve been about her. Ashley’s not an Emma. Emma would have grabbed her pliers, picked up the dainty fork in her other hand, and widened her eyes at Harriet in a significant manner. Such a look would not only instruct Harriet on what to do, but make Emma’s superiority as clear as Harriet’s cluelessness. The look, furthermore, would not be skilled enough to hide Emma’s delight in the situation and in her role as tutor.
    Ashley never did that—any of it. She’s as pretty as Gwyneth Paltrow was in the movie, but she isn’t Emma. Her assurance and confidence have limits, and I saw them tonight. That makes Ashley approachable—maybe real friend material.
    It was good, Mr. Knightley. I’m glad to have my First Impressions reversed. Let’s hope I can do the same with Johnson.
    Off to revise another
    assignment . . .
    Sam
    P.S. There’s more . . . and avoiding it won’t make it go away: Kyle fostered out, and I miss him.
    I’m happy for him, don’t get me wrong. This is no place to grow up. But I’ve gotten used to Kyle and he’s gotten used to me. I don’t think either of us would admit we’re friends,but we’re something. We rely on each other, I think. I went to Buckhorn on his last morning to give him my duffel bag.
    “It’s yours. I don’t want that.” He shoved it back into my hands.
    “Come on. It’s better than trash bags.” I started folding his shirts to put them in the duffel, but he kept messing them up. “Stop that. I’m helping you.”
    “Don’t do that.” He grabbed another and bunched it up.
    I understood. No reminders of help. No reminders of friends lost. I grabbed all the shirts, scrunched them up, and tossed them to him. I thought he’d laugh. He didn’t.
    “Who you gonna run with now?” Kyle’s voice broke, and so did my heart. All this meant something to him too.
    “Jaden,” I threw out. I couldn’t bear to get emotional.
    “Jaden? He can’t run!”
    “I’m just kidding. I’ll run alone. No one can replace you, Kyle. But I’m glad you’re going. You’ve got a family now.”
    “You give me two months?” Kyle refused to look at me. That alone meant the answer mattered. Books are much easier than this real-life