Broken Souls (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 2) (2 page)

Abby wrinkled her nose, opened her mouth to say something, when Sam walked into the room holding a banana. She turned to him and said, “And who would you be?”

“I’m Sam.” He smiled and turned to Mara. “Mom says dinner will be ready in about forty minutes and wants to know if Abby is staying. You’re Abby, right?”

“Yeah, I’m Abby,” she said. “Your mom is cooking dinner and wants to know if I’m staying?”

“Right. She wants to know how much to cook.” Sam didn’t look at Abby; he was examining the banana, turning it back and forth in his hand.

Abby turned to Mara, who sat up stiffly, mute and wide-eyed.

“What’s bugging you?” Abby said, then threw a thumb in Sam’s direction. “Who’s the kid with the banana, and why is his mom cooking us dinner?”

“He’s, um, he’s my . . .” Mara’s face turned red, and she looked up at the ceiling trying to find the words.

“Brother. I’m her brother,” Sam said. “How do you eat one of these?” He pointed the banana at Abby.

Abby stared back at him and said slowly, as if she were talking to an idiot, “You just eat it, you know? Like. A. Banana.”

Sam raised it to his nose and inhaled. “What do they taste like?”

Mara rolled her eyes and said, “Sam, just eat it!”

“You don’t have to get snippy,” he said. He stuck the end of the banana in his mouth and bit down on it. The peel split open on the side, and the inner fruit spattered his face. He shook his head back and forth until a piece broke off. He chewed and swallowed, then wiped his mouth with his free hand. “Mmm. I like the inside, but the skin is kind of tough.”

Abby stared at him with her mouth hanging open.

“Sam, why don’t you go get a towel in the kitchen,” Mara said.

He laughed and pointed the half-eaten banana at Abby. “She never answered the question.”

“What question?” Abby said.

Sam mimicked her, talking slowly. “Are. You. Staying. For. Dinner?”

Mara stood up and pushed Sam toward the kitchen. “No, she’s can’t stay . . .”

Abby waved after them. “Oh, yes I am.” She raised her voice toward the kitchen. “Yes, Mrs. Lantern, I’m staying for dinner. Thanks.”

* * *

Diana stood at the kitchen counter, cutting vegetables for a salad, when Mara dragged Sam into the kitchen. He shook the decapitated banana at her and laughed. “Here have a bite. It’s good.”

They tussled back and forth until Sam backed into a chair at the dinette set and knocked it onto its side with a clatter. Diana turned to see Sam on the far side of the table trying to evade his sister, who slapped a wet dishcloth at him.

“What are you two doing?” Diana said.

Mara threw the damp rag, hitting Sam in the forehead, and turned to her mother. “He bit into that banana in front of Abby and then told her that he was my brother.”

“I told him that he could have it to hold him over while I was cooking. What’s the big deal?”

“He didn’t peel it first!” Mara pointed at Sam, who held up the mauled banana and shrugged.

Diana dried her hands on her apron and walked over to her son. “Sweetie, you need to take the skin off before you eat it. Look.” She took the banana and stripped away the peel and handed the remains to Sam.

“It’s like living with a feral cat,” Mara said. “I’m surprised he’s housebroken.”

Diana bent over, picked up the fallen chair and scooted it under the table. Locking eyes with her daughter, she said, “He’s your little brother. Deal with it. It’s not like you have an alternative.”

“What am I supposed to tell Abby? How are we supposed to explain that I have a brother and that you have a son who suddenly appeared out of nowhere?” Mara said, sitting down with a thud.

Sam interjected, “I already told her that I’m your brother.”

“It wouldn’t take much to convince her that you’re delusional,” Mara said, tapping her temple.

“No, we are not doing that. No lies. Sam’s a part of our family, and we’re not going to tell people otherwise. This doesn’t have to be complicated if we don’t make it so.”

Mara glared at her mother in silence, trying to think of a response. Her mother knew it and didn’t try to goad it out of her.

Sam flopped down at the table and shoved the rest of the banana into his mouth. For a few minutes the only sound in the room was his chewing.

Then Mara raised a finger and pointed at her mother. “Okay, then show me how,” Mara said.

“Show you how to what?” Diana said.

“Show me how to explain to Abby that Sam is my brother.” Mara lifted her jaw slightly as if challenging her mother.

“Okay, you’re on,” Diana said. She then lifted her own jaw and called out to the front of the house. “Abby, can you join us here in the kitchen for a minute?”

“Coming!” They felt the vibrations through the wood floor as Abby ran to the kitchen.

Diana pointed to two chairs on either side of Sam at the round dinette table. “Have a seat, and let’s talk for a minute.” Abby took one seat and Diana took another.

“Sure, Mrs. L,” Abby said, throwing a smirking glance at Mara.

“I’d like to introduce you to my son, Sam. Sam, this is Abby. She and Mara have been friends since they were little girls,” Diana said.

“Hi.” Sam grinned.

Diana continued, “I know it’s a bit of a surprise that Mara has a brother, but . . .”

“You don’t have to explain, Mrs. L. I understand,” Abby said.

“You do?” Mara said.

“Yeah, I get it,” Abby said.

“What do you get?” Mara leaned forward.

“Your mom got pregnant after she split from your dad and put the bambino up for adoption,” Abby said. “Now he’s back. You’re Mara’s half brother from a different father.”

Mara and Diana looked at each other. “Well, that’s not quite . . .” Diana said. “They have the same father.”

“Oh, I see. You got pregnant with Dr. Lantern and then split, and Sam went to live with his father in San Francisco,” Abby said.

“No, that’s not quite right either . . .” Diana said.

Sam perked up in his seat and waved a hand in front of his mother’s face. “Mom?”

Relieved for the distraction, Diana turned away from Abby’s gaze and said, “Yes, Sam?”

“I have a father?” He looked expectant, hopeful.

Mara dropped her head into her hands and said, “I’m glad you said this doesn’t have to get complicated.”

“So when do I get to meet my dad?” Sam said. “I’ve never had a father before.”

Diana went pale and looked blankly at her son. After a beat, she shook her head and said, “Sweetheart, let’s talk about that later, okay?” She turned to Abby. “Anyway, Sam’s a part of our family. The details are somewhat—”

“Complicated,” Abby said. “I understand.”

“I was going to say
personal
. I hope you won’t mind if I don’t go into all the details.” Diana stood up and turned to the counter to continue preparing dinner. “Why don’t you girls go hang out in the living room? Sam can stay here, and help me chop vegetables and set the table.”

Abby flung a leg over the arm of the chair she flopped into and stared across the living room. Mara took up her place on the couch and picked at her fingernails. After a few minutes of silence, Abby tapped her foot on the stone hearth of the fireplace.

Mara looked up, annoyed. “Do you have to keep doing that?”

Abby continued tapping.

“Abby, cut it out.”

“Only if you spill the beans. What’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on. We’re waiting for Mom to finish dinner, and then we are going to eat.” Mara didn’t look up from her fingers.

“With your little brother.”

“Right.”

“A little brother you didn’t have the last time I looked.”

“Right.”

“Where’d he come from? Where did he grow up?”

“I’m not really clear on all the details myself. Maybe he grew up in Arkansas or someplace like that.”

“I’m pretty sure they have bananas in Arkansas.”

“So?”

“Mara, the boy doesn’t know how to eat a banana. Even if he was raised in the jungle by natives, he’d know how to peel a banana.” Abby pulled out her phone and tapped on its screen. “Look, it says right here,
bananas are the fourth most common agricultural product in the world. More than one hundred billion are eaten every year. Americans eat an average of twenty-seven pounds of bananas a year
.”

“So?”

“Well, he sounds American. Who’s been eating his bananas?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Is he learning impaired or something?”

“No.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Mara looked up.

“Well, what’s the scoop?”

“Abby, like my mom said, this is a little personal, and we need some time to adjust. This isn’t a juicy piece of gossip from school we can just banter about.”

“Okay, I’m being too flippant. I get that. That’s me though. I’m your friend, and you should be able to confide in me. I mean, this is a big deal to keep all to yourself, don’t you think?”

“There’s been a lot going on lately. I’m not trying to shut you out. I haven’t really had enough time to figure out what I think, much less share it with someone else.”

Sam walked into the living room. “Dinner’s ready, you guys.”

“That was fast,” Abby said.

“Mom switched to soup and salad. She said she wasn’t up to dealing with a big entrée,” he said and turned back toward the kitchen.

“I bet,” Mara said. “I hope she’s up for the dinner conversation.”

* * *

A large clear plastic bowl of tossed greens sat at the center of the table with several bottles of salad dressing. Each of the four settings had a plate and a bowl of steaming soup as they sat down to the round table in the small dining area at the back of the kitchen.

“Here’s a basket of bread. The butter’s on the table on the far side of the salad bowl in front of Sam. Just ask him to pass it,” Diana said as she sat down next to her son.

Abby stepped around Mara and made a point of sitting next to Sam, across from Diana. That left the seat across from Sam for Mara, which she resigned herself to while eyeing her friend. They took turns with the tongs, placing salad on their plates, and passing the breadbasket and butter in silence.

“Mom, can you pass me the ranch dressing, please?” Mara asked.

“Here you go,” Diana said, handing it over and turning to Abby. “Abby, how is your senior year going?”

“Good. Classes are good. I wish Mara was there, but things are good. After Christmas I will only have three classes, and then I’ll be done,” she said, then turned to Sam. “Sam, where do you go to school?”

He looked up from his plate and quickly swallowed. “I don’t go to school.”

“What? You’re only like thirteen years old. Even Mara didn’t finish until she was almost seventeen.” Abby said, glancing at Mara and Diana.

“I’m fourteen,” Sam said.

“Sam has a private tutor in Portland. Technically you could say he is homeschooled,” Diana said. “We’re thinking about enrolling him in high school next year, if Mrs. Zimmerman thinks it’s a good idea.”

“We are?” Mara said.

“Yes, dear,
we
are,” Diana said, pointing to Sam and herself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t realize sisters get a vote in such matters, or did you want to give me some sage advice on how to be a mother?” Diana smiled, mockingly waiting for a reply.

“I didn’t mean you
had
to tell me. I wondered why I hadn’t heard,” Mara said.

Sam pointed a piece of bread at Mara. “We talked about it today for the first time. What do you think?”

“I suppose if Mrs. Zimmerman thinks you’re prepared, academically, why not?” Mara said. Turning to her mother, she said, “You realize issues may come up that we can’t anticipate?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, something like you not understanding that you don’t get out of the car in the middle of the drive-through at a fast-food joint.”

With a mouth full of salad, Sam said, “How was I supposed to know they were going to hand us the food through
a window
?” He laughed, holding his hand over his mouth. His face reddened, and then he gagged, coughed and spewed greens onto his plate. He wiped his mouth and said, “Oh, oh, tell Mom about the money machine.”

“He got very excited about the ATM at the mall.”

“Can I get one of those cards? You know, so I can get money out of the machine?”

Diana said, “You realize you have to put money into the bank before it will come out of the machine, right?”

“That’s what Mara said. Ping pays me for working at the bakery. Can I put that money in the bank and get a card?”

“I suppose we can work something out,” his mother said.

They ate in silence for a few minutes until Abby looked up and said, “So, Sam, where are you from? Where did you grow up?”

“I grew up in Portland,” he said.

Mara went pale and opened her mouth to say something, but Diana raised a finger on the hand next to her plate and tilted her head subtly. Mara closed her mouth and concentrated on her salad.

“Here? In Portland?” Abby jabbed the tabletop with a finger.

“Well, not exactly here.”

“You mean, not here in Oregon City, but in Portland.”

“No, I mean I grew up here—but in a different version of here.”

Abby pushed her glasses up her nose. “I’m not following you.”

“I grew up in a different realm, an alternate reality.”

Mara raised her hands into the air in front of her. “There you go! You can’t go around saying that to people. They are going to think you’re crazy.”

“Mara, settle down,” Diana said.

“You’re going to send him to high school? They are going to eat him alive!” Mara said.

“They are going to eat me?” Sam’s eyes widened.

Diana patted his hand. “No, sweetie. No one’s going to eat you. Your sister is a little overwrought at the moment. Now pass me the butter.”

Sam picked up the butter and extended his arm toward his mother. Abby’s gaze locked onto the tattoo on his forearm, an obelisk with a serpent coiled around it.

“Cool tat. Where’d you get that?”