Chapter 23: Home

Poppy arrived at my aunt's door on Friday night in the yellow boots.

She had a rolling suitcase, her grandmother, and a rabbit under one arm.

Bridget looked down at her over her reading glasses.

"So you're the bug."

"Are you Aunt Bridget? Claire says you cook."

"Claire says correctly. Come in."

By the time they had both taken their coats off, there was a pot of noodles on the table.

Poppy sat on a chair with a dish towel tied around her neck.

Willem knocked at the kitchen door a few minutes later with a paper bag in his hand.

He wore a fresh shirt with the fold creases still in it.

"Hello," Poppy said. "Are you the one who held up the banana?"

"I am."

"Why do you carry one?"

"In case somebody hasn't eaten."

Poppy thought about it.

"I haven't," she said, with her mouth full of noodles.

He took a banana out of the bag, peeled it halfway, and handed it across the table with great ceremony.

Poppy's grandmother, at the end of the table, put her napkin to her mouth.

At eight, Bridget set a jar of applesauce down next to Poppy's plate without being asked.

I took out the small white tablet and cut it in half.

I crushed it between two spoons and stirred it into the applesauce.

Poppy opened her mouth for the first spoonful and made her usual face.

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