Read Online The Old House by Willo Davis Roberts - Free Book Online

I’m driving you over to Kalispell to school.”
    Max’s jaws clenched visibly. “I’m not getting kicked out of school, Pa.”
    â€œWhenI was a kid, I got in trouble in school. I was in more trouble when I got home. My old man lit into me with his belt.”
    Buddy was watching Max and saw the expression that came over his face. Max was smaller than his father, but Buddy was suddenly convinced that he would resist to his utmost if Gus tried to whip him.
    A dysfunctional family , Max had said. She hadn’t asked Bart for a definition, but she had a pretty good idea what Max had been talking about. She didn’t think she cared for Uncle Gus very much.
    â€œHow come nobody ever feeds me?” Grandpa asked from the doorway of his room. He pushed the button to activate the voice on his watch. “Is supper all over?”
    â€œNo, Grandpa, it’s not ready yet,” Cassie said.
    The old man wandered across the room toward the area where food was being prepared. “I smell cucumbers. Don’t put any in my salad, Sister.”
    â€œMax is making them separate, and no cucumbers in yours. Go sit down, honey. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
    Grandpa tapped out with his cane and located a chair. “Did you know Blackie came back? He was lost, but he came back.”
    â€œNo, Grandpa, Blackie didn’t come back,” Addie said, steering him into the chair. “Blackie died, remember?”
    â€œNo, he didn’t. He’s sleeping on my bed right now. Been there all afternoon.”
    â€œMy kitten!” Max said, suddenly agitated. “That’s where he went!”
    He left his salad assembly line and trotted over to the open door to the old man’s room. “Hey, there you are, you scamp. That’s what I’m going to call him, Scamp.”
    Gus was scowling. “Where’d you get that critter? You know I don’t like cats.”
    â€œI’ll keep him out of your way,” Max said, cradling the kitten.
    â€œI like cats,” Grandpa said. “I always had cats around the house, and the store, too.” He hesitated, an odd, rather lost expression coming over his face. “Do I still have the store?”
    â€œNo, Grandpa. You sold the store after you had a stroke,” Addie told him.
    Grandpa’sforehead wrinkled up as he tried to remember. “I sold the store?”
    â€œYes. To Alf Peterson.”
    The forehead got more wrinkled. “I never liked Alf Peterson.”
    â€œNeither did anyone else, but he paid you in cash. And you couldn’t keep running the place anymore.”
    â€œCash,” Grandpa repeated. “There was a lot of cash, wasn’t there? A big pile. A whole bag full.”
    Suddenly the room was full of tension.
    Buddy didn’t have the slightest idea why, but she stiffened, feeling as if the air had abruptly turned blue.
    Cassie forgot to stir the gravy she was making. Addie paused with the last napkin in her hand, not placing it on the table. Gus rested his beer bottle on the table and seemed almost to be holding his breath.
    And Max . . . when Buddy’s gaze swept toward him, Max was staring at her.
    Whatever the problem, Buddy thought, Max knew what it was. And somehow it involved her, though she couldn’t imagine how that could be.
    And then, as if someone had hit the pause button on a remote control, freezing all the action, it was as if the play button had been activated, and motion resumed.

Chapter Six
    The atmosphere at the supper table was quite different from what it had been at lunch, and Buddy knew exactly why.
    Gus dominated what conversation there was. Max said nothing at all unless someone directly addressed him. He had put down another bowl for the kitten and was watching him, avoiding his father’s attention as much as he could.
    Gus talked about the fellows down at the Hayloft, the local tavern. He talked about sporting events and