Read Online Odessa Again by Dana Reinhardt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Dana Reinhardt
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afterward Dad pulled into the driveway and honked. Mom came to the front door.
They waved at each other and smiled as Oliver and Odessa walked into the house.
Odessa thought about that smile upstairs in her room. The way her parents almost hugged. How proud Dad seemed of Mom for getting that job at JK Design Studio.
She sat down and opened her new dictionary. When the world confounded her, words brought her peace. She read some of the words Jennifer had underlined in purple.
She liked the ones that meant something other than what you’d think.
Gumshoe: a detective. NOT a person who has gum on his shoes.
And she liked the ones with meanings that matched the way they sounded.
Enigma: something that is not easily explained or understood.
*
Mrs. Grisham started watching them the following Monday. Odessa and Oliver arrived home to the smell of something delicious that turned out to be made of something not delicious at all. Zucchini bread.
Odessa knew few things with the sort of certainty that she knew zucchini does not belong in an after-school snack.
Oliver took one look at it and went straight to his room.
Odessa and Mrs. Grisham sat in the living room and talked, and it felt like those afternoons at Mrs. Grisham’s house, except that they weren’t surrounded by owl figurines, but by photographs of a family that didn’t include Dad.
Later that week, the snack was pumpkin muffins. An improvement for sure, but still missing the mark.
Odessa ate a muffin and polished off a glass of cold milk. Mrs. Grisham asked about her day, and she said it was fine. It was easier than telling her she saw Sadie Howell talking to Theo Summers at recess and that this wasn’t good at all because everyone knew that Sadie, with her pale blue eyes, was the prettiest girl in the whole fourth grade.
Mrs. Grisham was a friend, but Odessa didn’t need to tell her everything .
On her way upstairs to call Sofia, which she still did despite the “Odessa liked it shaggy” comment, she paused outside Oliver’s door. She could hear him talking quietly on the phone. Didn’t he know that she used the phone every day after snack?
She put her ear to his door. Even though she hated when he eavesdropped, she had to listen.
Who was he speaking to?
He’d said he had no friends, but this couldn’t be true. Everyone has some kind of a friend, even shy kids like Oliver.
“It’s okay,” he was saying. “You’re going to be okay. I know you feel bad, but I’m here. I’ll help.”
Odessa creaked open the door.
“Oliver?”
He sat on the floor with his back to her, holding something in his lap.
“It’s Mud,” Oliver said. “He’s really sick.”
Odessa sat down next him and watched as he stroked his hamster. His best friend.
“His heart is beating really fast and his breathing sounds weird.”
“Maybe you need to take him to the vet. Let’s go tell Mrs. Grisham.”
“No,” Oliver blurted out. “No way.”
Odessa looked at him.
“Remember Truman?” he asked.
Truman was their old cat. Mom had him since before she’d met Dad. They’d taken him to the vet one day because he wasn’t eating his kitty food, and he never came home again. Oliver was barely old enough to remember Truman, but he’d since been terrified of vets. And people doctors too.
“But maybe the vet can help him.” Odessa touched Mud gently.
Oliver shook his head no as a tear made its way down his cheek. Usually, Oliver’s tears irritated Odessa. He knew how to cry at just the right time, in just the right way, so that he always looked like an innocent victim.
Poor Oliver, she thought.
Usually, when someone said, “ Poor Oliver,” it was immediately followed by “You’re older, Odessa. You should know better.”
But today she really felt those words: Poor Oliver. The realness of that tear made Odessa want to help him.
“Wait here.” Odessa went into Mom’s medicine cabinet and took out the grape-flavored chewable Motrin. Mom gave it
They waved at each other and smiled as Oliver and Odessa walked into the house.
Odessa thought about that smile upstairs in her room. The way her parents almost hugged. How proud Dad seemed of Mom for getting that job at JK Design Studio.
She sat down and opened her new dictionary. When the world confounded her, words brought her peace. She read some of the words Jennifer had underlined in purple.
She liked the ones that meant something other than what you’d think.
Gumshoe: a detective. NOT a person who has gum on his shoes.
And she liked the ones with meanings that matched the way they sounded.
Enigma: something that is not easily explained or understood.
*
Mrs. Grisham started watching them the following Monday. Odessa and Oliver arrived home to the smell of something delicious that turned out to be made of something not delicious at all. Zucchini bread.
Odessa knew few things with the sort of certainty that she knew zucchini does not belong in an after-school snack.
Oliver took one look at it and went straight to his room.
Odessa and Mrs. Grisham sat in the living room and talked, and it felt like those afternoons at Mrs. Grisham’s house, except that they weren’t surrounded by owl figurines, but by photographs of a family that didn’t include Dad.
Later that week, the snack was pumpkin muffins. An improvement for sure, but still missing the mark.
Odessa ate a muffin and polished off a glass of cold milk. Mrs. Grisham asked about her day, and she said it was fine. It was easier than telling her she saw Sadie Howell talking to Theo Summers at recess and that this wasn’t good at all because everyone knew that Sadie, with her pale blue eyes, was the prettiest girl in the whole fourth grade.
Mrs. Grisham was a friend, but Odessa didn’t need to tell her everything .
On her way upstairs to call Sofia, which she still did despite the “Odessa liked it shaggy” comment, she paused outside Oliver’s door. She could hear him talking quietly on the phone. Didn’t he know that she used the phone every day after snack?
She put her ear to his door. Even though she hated when he eavesdropped, she had to listen.
Who was he speaking to?
He’d said he had no friends, but this couldn’t be true. Everyone has some kind of a friend, even shy kids like Oliver.
“It’s okay,” he was saying. “You’re going to be okay. I know you feel bad, but I’m here. I’ll help.”
Odessa creaked open the door.
“Oliver?”
He sat on the floor with his back to her, holding something in his lap.
“It’s Mud,” Oliver said. “He’s really sick.”
Odessa sat down next him and watched as he stroked his hamster. His best friend.
“His heart is beating really fast and his breathing sounds weird.”
“Maybe you need to take him to the vet. Let’s go tell Mrs. Grisham.”
“No,” Oliver blurted out. “No way.”
Odessa looked at him.
“Remember Truman?” he asked.
Truman was their old cat. Mom had him since before she’d met Dad. They’d taken him to the vet one day because he wasn’t eating his kitty food, and he never came home again. Oliver was barely old enough to remember Truman, but he’d since been terrified of vets. And people doctors too.
“But maybe the vet can help him.” Odessa touched Mud gently.
Oliver shook his head no as a tear made its way down his cheek. Usually, Oliver’s tears irritated Odessa. He knew how to cry at just the right time, in just the right way, so that he always looked like an innocent victim.
Poor Oliver, she thought.
Usually, when someone said, “ Poor Oliver,” it was immediately followed by “You’re older, Odessa. You should know better.”
But today she really felt those words: Poor Oliver. The realness of that tear made Odessa want to help him.
“Wait here.” Odessa went into Mom’s medicine cabinet and took out the grape-flavored chewable Motrin. Mom gave it
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