Chapter 19: The Dragon Book

Wynn stood in Joanne's hallway with a duffel bag in each hand and a tight, tired face.

Milo stood beside her in dinosaur pajamas, holding a stuffed frog by one leg.

"He asked for you," Wynn said. "I don't know why. I didn't want to ask."

"It's fine."

"I have nobody else at one in the morning. I'm sorry."

"Go to your flight," I said.

She nodded, and she knelt, and she held her son's face in both hands.

"Be good for Monica. I'll call at lunch."

"Do I have to?" Milo said.

"Yes."

"Okay."

She left without looking at me again.

Joanne watched the taillights from the window and said, "I want it noted that I'm not angry about the frog."

Milo looked up at me.

He had sandy hair that stood up in back and a serious little mouth.

"Are you the lady who yells at people with a microphone?"

"Sometimes."

"Mom says you're mad at us."

"I'm mad at some people. I'm not mad at you."

He thought about that.

"Okay. Can you read the dragon book? It's in the bag."

The dragon book was a library copy, three weeks overdue.

I sat on the edge of Joanne's pull-out with him against my side, and he held the book open on his knees.

I'm a reading specialist, and I know what a child's eyes do when he's pretending to read.

His finger moved under the words slightly ahead of his mouth.

He knew every page by heart.

"Can you show me this one?" I asked, and pointed to a word.

"Dragon."

"Which letter does it start with?"

He frowned.

"That one."

"That's right. What sound?"

"Duh."

"Good. What about this?"