She held up her hand to shush him. He got quiet and looked at her. She grabbed his math test from the mini fridge and walked to the television. The lottery balls danced in the glass vacuum. Christopher hadn’t been paying attention.
The second number was 33.
“Mom?” he said.
“Shh,” she said.
She dropped to her knees. Looking at the newsman. Christopher had seen her get two numbers before. That had happened. But now her hands were wringing. The third ball got sucked into the vacuum.
45
“Oh, God,” she said in a whisper.
Christopher had never seen his mother pray in church. But now, she laced her fingers together so tightly, her knuckles turned white. The fourth number got sucked out. And the newsman announced,
19
“Oh, Jesus, please,” she said.
Christopher looked at his perfect test, shaking in her hands. The next answer was 66. His mother had stopped breathing, waiting for the next number to be drawn.
“Sixty-six!” the newsman announced.
Christopher’s mother didn’t know it, but she was rocking back and forth. She held him so hard, he could barely breathe. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t dare. She was tense as a board. He looked at the next answer from his test. It was 6. The next number was drawn.
It was 9.
“No!” she gasped.
It felt like an eternity before the newsman turned the ball upside down to put the line on the right side.
“Six!” the newsman said.
“Oh, my God,” she said.
There was one number to go. One single number. The balls danced in the glass box. Christopher looked at the last answer on his perfect test. It was 48. Christopher’s mother closed her eyes. As if she couldn’t bear to look. Couldn’t bear one more loss after so many.
“Tell me,” she said.
“Mom, you won.”
He didn’t see it. But he felt her tears on his neck. Her arms held him so tightly that he thought his spine would snap. They would have stayed there all night if the smoke alarm didn’t start chirping. They ran back to the hot plate and saw the grilled cheese sandwiches were now as black as raisins. His mom turned off the burner and opened the window, letting the smoke out.
“It’s okay. We can still eat it. The grilled cheese isn’t that burnt,” Christopher said.
“Fuck that,” his mother replied. “Grab your coat. We’re going out for steak.”
They went to Ruth’s Chris downtown. And even though his mom said to order anything he wanted, he still chose the lobster because it was listed as “market price.”
Chapter 17
This is the nicest house we’ve seen,” Mrs. Soroka said as they pulled into the driveway.
She was a classy lady. Elegant on the outside. But it was learned. Kate knew that. The way some people could throw on a bigger vocabulary than their father and pretend they came from somewhere else. Some people’s fake is more honest than other people’s real. She might have talked fast, but Mrs. Soroka meant every word.
“The driveway is a little ragged, but you’re a few years from repaving. And I know people who can cut you a deal. We girls have to stick together.”
She said that with a wink and opened the car door. It was their third house that day. The first house was too big. The second was too small. And like Goldilocks, they were hoping the third would be just right.
“The door sticks a little,” Mrs. Soroka said, jangling the keys and popping them into the lock. “But we can add that to the inspection list, and they’ll pay for it.”
Mrs. Soroka clicked the lock and opened the door with a shoulder bump. Kate stayed behind with Christopher for a moment, looking around the crisp fall neighborhood. All the houses on the cul-de-sac looked clean and rich. As pretty as the changing leaves. There was even a log cabin on top of the little hill across the street. It reminded her of Christopher’s old Lincoln Logs. There was an old lady sitting in the attic, staring out the window. Even at a distance, Kate could hear the creak of her rocking chair.
“Christopher? Earth to Christopher?” Kate said. “Let’s go.”
Christopher turned away from the log cabin and followed her inside.
The house was beautiful. What Mrs. Soroka called a real Craftsman. The living room had built-in bookshelves and a fireplace with enough space for a really nice TV. The whole place smelled like chocolate chip cookies from a dozen open houses. Mrs. Soroka told them that cookies were a trick that real