Sun & Spoon Read Online Free

and happy that Pa wanted to continue the tradition in some way. “I just don’t want him to dwindle,” Kay had a new habit of saying.
    Despite all the changes, Pa still kept a supply of root beer especially for Spoon in the basement refrigerator, and the jar of Coffee Nips on the kitchen counter never emptied. They were small things, but they were reassuring.
    The garage was becoming noticeably tidy. Although Spoon was concentrating on the cleanup, his search for something of Gram’s was always on his mind. He poked here and there, sneaking peeks in drawers and boxes. Twice he announced that he was going to the house to use the bathroom (he didn’t really have to go), so that he could snoop a bit alone. “I’ll be right back,” he said both times.
    On his second trip, as he was pawing through the junk drawer in the pantry, Joanie startled him, her pointy hood jutting out from behind the door. “What are you doing?” she asked.
    â€œI told you I came in the house to pee,” Spoon said angrily, cramming a nest of odds and ends back into the drawer and jamming it closed. “If you want all the details, just let me know.”
    â€œYou didn’t pee in here, did you?” she asked, horrified.
    â€œMaybe I did,” he snapped. He flew by her and stormed back to the garage.
    Later, just as Spoon was about to give up hope for the morning, he spotted something promising hanging from a nail in a dark corner behind some crates. The something was rusty and appeared to be a key—an oddly shaped one. Spoon plucked it down from the wall. He sniffed it and turned it in his fingers. Orange-brown dust rubbed off on his skin. “What is this?” Spoon asked Pa, holding it out on his palm.
    â€œAh,” Pa breathed, dropping his eyes to the key. “A skate key. You don’t see those around anymore.”
    â€œWas it Gram’s?” Spoon asked loudly, excited by the prospect. This could be exactly what I’m looking for, he thought. He squinted and threw his chin out, the way he sometimes did when he willed something to happen.
    Pa scratched his eyebrow. His cheek twitched, as if hearing the word Gram had set off a small tremor inside him. “No, no,” Pa replied with an effort, looking away for a second. “This was your father’s. He used to wear it around his neck. I wonder where the skates are. Probably hidden here somewhere.”
    â€œOh,” said Spoon in a thin voice.
    â€œLet’s see,” Joanie said. She snatched the key from her brother’s hand. She held it up to the light. “Can I have it? Please?”
    â€œWell,” said Pa, “your brother found it.” Pa turned toward Spoon.
    Joanie jumped up and down.
    â€œTake it,” Spoon said. “Take it.” He realized that he’d better be careful on two accounts. One, if he found something good, he didn’t want Joanie to know because she’d want it. And, two, he felt as though he needed to be delicate with Pa where it concerned Gram; he didn’t want to upset him.
    All of a sudden, Spoon’s stomach growled.
    â€œSpoon’s clock and my watch say it’s lunchtime,” Pa stated, holding out his arm and studying his bare wrist quizzically, making a little joke. “This place is in good order. Why don’t we wash up and get something to eat?”
    Spoon felt empty in every way. He was starving. He missed Gram. He missed the old Pa—the ear-wiggling, card-playing one. And he still hadn’t found what he was looking for.

5
    I NSTEAD OF DOING THE USUAL THING —having lunch at the kitchen table—Pa led them to the dining room. “Since you both fixed such creative food,” he said, “I thought it would be fitting to eat out here. It’s more fancy.”
    â€œWe deserve to be fancy,” Joanie said proudly. “We worked hard.”
    â€œYes, we did,” said Pa. “And I thank you