Read Online The Winter Place by Alexander Yates - Free Book Online Page A

Finnish grammar reader, the recycled pages gray and soft as newspaper. It lay open to a worksheet on families— äiti, isä, sisko, veli . Mother, father, sister, and brother. Beside the words was a space where you could practice writing them, dark with shaky pencil marks. Tess recognized her brother’s handwriting. He’d written only one of the words, over and over, stretching out beyond the dotted lines. Äiti-Äiti-Äiti-Äiti . Mom-Mom-Mom-Mom. All his life, Tess’s little brother had longed for a missingparent. Now it was two for the price of one.
    â€œGet angry,” Tess thought. Actually, she did more than think it. She whispered it aloud. Because anger was the only alternative she could see to sinking to the floor right then and there and crying for a month or so. She slapped the workbook shut, focusing on the revolting thought of Mrs. Ridgeland’s plump, plaster-white fingers on it. It’s not that Tess had any illusions. She didn’t think that she and Axel would keep living in the A-frame by themselves, taking the bus to school in Baldwin, ordering groceries online, and drilling each other on Finnish verbs every evening. And she knew that Grandpa Paul would never leave his juniper woods to live up here with them. But still, the speed with which they were being booted out was ridiculous. “You should have told us,” she said.
    Mrs. Ridgeland paused to consider this. “Maybe,” she said, breezing through the maze of boxes like she owned the place. Which, to be fair, she did. “But it had to be done, and you couldn’t have changed it. If you want, you can come by tomorrow morning to help finish up. In the meantime, you’ve got to change.”

    The service was scheduled for midday, in the Oakwood Cemetery down in Syracuse. It was abig, old cemetery that abutted the south end of the SUNY College of Environmental Science and Forestry, where their father had taught undergraduates about lichens and hardwoods. The Oakwood was also where their mother was buried, and Sam’s plot would be right beside hers. Grandpa Paul was supposed to land in the late morning, presumably with his new lady friend in tow, and would meet Tess and Axel at the cemetery. Tess hoped that her granddad would be able to hold it together and make it through the day. She hoped that she’d be able to, as well, because whenever she lost her immediate focus on the boxes, or her clothes, or spying on Axel to judge his energy levels, the world went flimsy. Tess felt a sadness so deep and desperate that it was like the sun—she was sure that if she looked right at it, she’d go blind.
    â€œI know that was a shock,” Mrs. Ridgeland said as they left the A-frame and got back into her car. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t mean to make you feel like you’re being pushed out. But we have to be realistic.” She backed them down the dirt drive. A minute later they were on 690, heading southeast. It was the exact same route their dad had taken, not even a week ago, on the night of the brown bear.
    â€œEverything’s been worked out with a moving company,” Mrs. Ridgeland went on. “Your stuffshould arrive at your grandparents’ place in no time at all.”
    â€œWhat about Bigwig?” Axel said, tugging at his shiny sleeves—the only thing he had that approached funeral attire was a costume tux from the previous Halloween. “I think we’ll need special papers,” he went on. “It’s not the same for a hare.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” Mrs. Ridgeland eyed him in the rearview.
    â€œAs a rabbit,” Axel said. “I mean, I think it’s easier for a rabbit.” They stared at each other via reflections.
    â€œI’m not following.”
    Axel sighed. He kept his voice reasonable. “Bigwig is a hare . She’s technically a wild animal. We need a permit to take her out of the