This time she saw Cody shift his position. She could read his mind, even midstream in front of her class. What was the point of teaching people with Down Syndrome how to entertain? That’s what he was thinking. She tried not to let the negativity she felt from him ruin her mood. She’d been looking forward to this cooking assignment since last week when they’d learned how to prepare broccoli.

  “Shortcake is very attractive.” Tammy swung her braids and smiled. “Very attractive.”

  “I think I could entertain twelve people if I had shortcake.” Gus looked around at the others.

  Carl Joseph reached back and patted Gus on the knee. “I would come to your party if you had shortcake, Gus.”

  “Okay, then.” Elle regained control. She moved to the long countertop area that separated her from the students. “First let’s take a look at our ingredients.”

  “I brought flour and vanilla, Teacher.” Carl Joseph stood up. He slid his glasses back up his nose and then grinned at Daisy. “Flour and vanilla.”

  Before a landslide of comments followed, Elle motioned to Carl Joseph. “Could you get nine mixing bowls from the supply cupboard? Then place them in a row along this counter, okay?”

  Carl Joseph looked as if he’d won the lottery. He jumped up and hurried to an oversized cupboard. He was the newest of her students, and even he knew where everything was kept. Elle continued explaining the ingredients, but she kept watch on Carl Joseph. Clearly his brother would be scrutinizing this assignment, seeing whether Carl Joseph could follow multiple orders without needing help.

  Sure enough, he took the mixing bowls out one at a time and set them in two stacks. Then he counted them again, just to be sure, and distributed them along the counter. The counter area had been built so that a team of two people could stand facing each other and work on a recipe together. Elle had nine copies of the shortcake recipe. “Okay, find a partner and station yourselves near one of the mixing bowls.”

  Daisy danced her way over to Carl Joseph. She stood opposite him and laughed a few times. “Is this spot taken?”

  “No, madam.” He hunched over, giving her his shyest giggle. “Not unless Mickey Mouse shows up.”

  Daisy laughed at that as if it were the wittiest thing she’d ever heard. “Mickey Mouse! CJ, you’re funny.”

  Over the next hour, with Elle and her aide overseeing the project, each team of two students followed the shortcake recipe and created a bowl full of batter. At one point, Cody stood and circled the work area from a distance.

  As he walked near Carl Joseph and Daisy, Elle expected her sister to get excited again and say something about Cody smelling like a bull rider. But this time the laughter that had marked their work time faded as Cody came closer. Carl Joseph gave Daisy a secretive look, and she nodded in a way that wasn’t quite subtle.

  “Good job, Buddy.” Cody peered over his brother’s shoulder at the bowl. “I bet your shortcake is best of all.”

  “Yeah . . . thanks.” Carl Joseph didn’t look up. He kept his eyes moving between the batter and Daisy. Then he looked at Cody. “I don’t need help, Brother. Thanks, but I don’t need help.”

  “Okay.” Cody angled his head and glanced across the room at Elle. “I’ll try to stay out of the way.”

  “Yeah, ’cause then it’ll be a surprise.” Carl Joseph waved at his brother. “Go back to the chair and thanks anyway.”

  Cody raised his brow and chuckled, clearly not sure how to take the gentle rebuffing from Carl Joseph. One at a time, Elle directed the teams of students to spoon their batter into greased pans and place their shortcake in one of the center’s two ovens. The hardest task, the one that would matter most when they were living on their own, was to work against their short-term memory problems and remember the shortcake after it was in the oven.

  Elle and the aide oversaw the project, but neither of them would rescue the students. Sure enough, the first two teams forgot about their shortcake. Elle waited until the cake was burned but not on fire before reminding the teams. “Gus’s team and Tammy’s team, do you smell something burning?”

  All four students lurched into panic mode. They ran into each other, and then across the room into the kitchen, all of them talking at once. Elle stood with her arms crossed. “You’ll need potholders.”

  “Potholders.” Gus raced to the right drawer and found one for each of them.

  “What next?” Elle could feel Cody watching, disapproving. If she hadn’t reminded them about the shortcakes, they eventually would’ve caught fire. But this was part of learning. If Cody didn’t understand that, then maybe by the end of the week he would. “What next, people?”

  “Turn off the ovens.” Tammy had an oven mitt on her hand. She stared at the oven and did a nervous little dance in place. “We should turn off the ovens.”

  “Yes, do that.” Elle kept any frustration from her voice.

  Gus and Tammy each reached for the controls on their separate ovens and turned them off. Elle felt a ripple of satisfaction. At least here, even in a time of panic, they remembered how to turn off the ovens. She moved in closer. “What next?”

  “Take out the shortcake!” Gus looked at his baking partner and swallowed hard. “I’ll do it, okay?”

  The other young man nodded. “I’ll get the hot pad.”

  Gus pulled a blackened shortcake from the oven, while a few feet away Tammy did the same thing with hers. They set the burned desserts on the hotpads, stepped back, and stared at them dismally. Gus looked at Elle. “No entertaining tonight.”

  “No.” Elle smiled. “But we learned something.”

  All four students stared at her, mouths open, as if they weren’t sure what they’d learned by burning their shortcake. Then Gus gasped and his hand shot straight in the air. “We learned not to forget.” He pointed back at the oven. “We could use a timer.”

  Elle felt her heart soar. “Exactly.” She hadn’t mentioned that to any of them, because the timer was something all of them should’ve known by now. The other students gathered around to gawk at the blackened shortcake.

  “Gus, you can have some of mine,” Daisy said.

  “Yeah, mine, too.” Carl Joseph tapped his fingers on the counter near the burned dessert. “ ’Cause yeah, a timer would be better.” He turned to Daisy. “They use timers at Disneyland.”

  It was a victory. Without her prompting, Gus had remembered that a timer would’ve saved the shortcake from burning. Carl Joseph and Daisy were one of the teams to use the ovens next, and Carl Joseph raised his hand. “We’d like a timer, Teacher. If that’s okay.”

  She laughed. “Yes. Go right ahead.”

  With textbook precision, Carl Joseph and Daisy worked to get their dessert into the oven. Carl Joseph turned on the oven while Daisy set the timer. Then, using a potholder, Carl Joseph placed their pan of shortcake batter onto the hot rack and Daisy shut the oven door.

  Elle wanted to hug them both, but she couldn’t overreact. This was the sort of thing that would have to come easily for them before they could celebrate Goal Day. Thirty minutes later, when the timer went off, all four students promptly and calmly found their oven mitts and potholders, turned off their ovens, and removed their shortcakes. Both were a light golden color on top, cooked perfectly.

  “Carl Joseph.” Elle walked up and whispered to him. “I think maybe when it cools, your brother would like a piece.”

  “Yeah.” Carl Joseph’s eyes sparkled. “Brother should get a piece.”

  An hour later, when Carl Joseph brought a piece of shortcake to his brother, Cody thanked him and complimented him. And as he took his first bite, he raised his fork in Elle’s direction. She gave him a sly smile and then turned back to her students. Maybe they would find common ground yet.

  The day wore on, and by the time her students left, Elle was exhausted. It was twice as hard, teaching and trying to make things work well for Cody Gunner all at the same time.

  “You look tired, Teacher.” Daisy came up, her back
pack slung onto her shoulder. She twisted her head upside down and stared at Elle. Then she straightened and laughed at her own silliness. “Are you tired?”

  “School’s over, Daisy.” She gave her a knowing look. “You call me Elle now, remember?”

  “I know.” She laughed again. “Elle . . . Elle . . . Elle.” She set her backpack on the floor, unzipped it, and peered inside. “The shortcake’s in there.”

  “Yes.” All the students took home a large piece of shortcake. “We can entertain tonight. You and Mom and me.” She jumped into the air and came down in a perfect ballet first position. “And we can dance for fun.”

  “First we need to go to the market.” Elle had none of her usual energy. It had been draining being watched by Cody all day. He was giving her a week to prove that the students were learning skills that would one day make them capable of living on their own. One week. She sighed and grabbed her bag. “You ready to go to the store?”

  “Yes.” She stuck out her tongue and curled it up over her lip, something she did when she was concentrating intently. She looked through her backpack, rummaging around and finally pulling out a calculator. She grinned and held the calculator straight up over her head. “I’ll keep the budget.”

  Daisy had been at the center longer than most of the students. That she was thinking about staying on a budget at the mere mention of grocery shopping was further proof that she was almost ready. Depending on how the next few months went, she could have her Goal Day before the holidays.

  A sense of bittersweet joy came over Elle. Letting go of a sibling with Down Syndrome would never be easy. There would always be risks, but then life for able-bodied people held risks, too. She was proof.

  “Okay, Daisy.” They linked arms and headed out toward the parking lot. Elle turned off the lights and locked up on the way. “You keep the budget. Let’s make sure we don’t spend more than a hundred dollars today, all right?”

  Daisy did a few short laughs. “Wow, Elle. A whole hundred dollars.”

  For the rest of the ride to the market and even after they parked and were heading inside, Daisy kept a running dialogue about what they might be able to buy with a hundred dollars. When she’d hit just about every combination of groceries, Elle thought of a way to change the subject. “Daisy.”

  “And peanut butter and mayonnaise and string cheese and—”

  “Daisy.” Elle’s frustration rose a notch.

  Her sister fell silent. She pulled out a cart and opened her eyes wide at Elle. “I was making a budget.”

  “I know, but I have a question.”

  Daisy pushed the cart into the store and they walked toward the produce section. She looked a little put out, but she turned her attention to Elle anyway. “What question?”

  Elle wanted to know more about whatever exchange had happened between her sister and Carl Joseph while they were making the shortcake batter. It was the first time Daisy hadn’t acted thrilled about Cody Gunner. “About Carl Joseph’s brother.”

  As soon as Elle said the words, Daisy’s expression closed. She lifted her chin, pride having its way with her. “I don’t like CJ’s brother. Not anymore.”

  “I thought he smelled good and he was a world-famous bull rider.”

  Daisy allowed the hint of a smile. “He does smell good.” Her smile fell off. “But I don’t like him anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “CJ’s brother doesn’t want him at the center.” She looked straight ahead and stopped at a display of bananas. “He doesn’t want him there because he doesn’t like us.”

  Elle took a bunch of bananas and weighed them. “Three pounds, Daisy. Let’s start with that.”

  Daisy took her calculator from her pocket and squinted at the sign above the bananas. “Forty cents a pound.” Her mouth hung open while she punched in the numbers, but after a short time, she laughed aloud. “One twenty. One dollar and twenty cents. That’s how much so far.”

  “Excellent.” Elle gave her sister a look that expressed how proud she was. “You’re doing so well, Daisy.”

  A shadow fell over her expression. “But Cody Gunner doesn’t like us.”

  “He will.” Elle allowed Daisy to take the lead as they moved to a display of apples. “One day he will.”

  And as they finished shopping, as she allowed her sister time to gain the experience of finding eggs and peanut butter and mayonnaise and string cheese along with a cart full of other items all for under a hundred dollars, she could only pray quietly that what she’d told Daisy was right.

  That someday—by some sort of miracle—Cody Gunner would like not just the students at the ILC. But he would also like her work well enough to believe in Carl Joseph’s place there.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carl Joseph was at his parents’ computer trying to write a letter. But he was having trouble. Something maybe was wrong with Brother. He had heard the yelling and shouting that day when he was pulling weeds. And now it was Wednesday and Brother was still coming every day to the center.

  Daisy said he was coming because he didn’t like them. “Your brother doesn’t want you at the center,” she had told him earlier that day.

  And maybe Daisy was right. But maybe not. Because Brother had a smile and a happy voice when he was at the center. He sat in his chair and he watched and he thought a lot. And sometimes Brother would get up and find him next to Daisy and see what they were doing. Three times he said, “Good job, Buddy.”

  Also he thought Teacher was pretty. Carl Joseph knew because Brother’s eyes were the same at Elle as they were at Ali the first time. When Brother and Ali were at the rodeo together. Because Carl Joseph would come with his mother and sometimes with his dad, and he could see Brother’s eyes then. His eyes for Ali. And that was the same as his eyes for Teacher.

  But even all that didn’t mean he was happy.

  Carl Joseph looked out the window and bit his lip. Plus the letter was hard ’cause he was a little scared ’cause of the bus routes. And that kept filling his head. He knew Number Eight and Number Three. But Number Eleven was scary because there were two changes. And two changes had to happen. Otherwise no Goal Day. Yes, bus routes were scary.

  He turned his eyes to the computer screen. There was nothing on it so far. He adjusted his glasses and looked at the keyboard. He could at least type her name. He found the D and tapped it. Then he tapped out the rest of her name. A-I-S-Y.

  He lifted his eyes and made a happy laugh. Daisy. That’s what it spelled: Daisy. He wanted to write Daisy a letter because of Disneyland. Teacher said that when you entertain you have to invite someone. And he wanted to entertain Daisy at Disneyland. So maybe he had to write her a letter and invite her first.

  He heard a noise and he saw Brother’s truck pull into the driveway. That made him feel nervous, because he wasn’t sure about Brother anymore. He didn’t want to make him mad. ’Cause maybe Brother was mad that he and Daisy were friends and maybe he wanted Carl Joseph to leave the center.

  He watched Brother park his truck and head up the walk. “Uh-oh.” He grabbed the mouse. But not Mickey Mouse, ’cause that was different. Then he moved the arrow fast, faster. Fast as he could until he found the X marks the spot. Then he clicked and the letter was gone. ’Cause he could write a letter to Daisy later.

  But he didn’t want Brother to be mad. Not ever.

  Because Daisy was his number two best friend, but Brother . . . Brother was his best friend of all. So he could hide letters to Daisy. Because he didn’t want Brother to see what he was doing and be mad. He stood and slammed the chair back against the desk. His heart pounded like a drum. He moved quickly away from the computer and over to the door. That way Brother wouldn’t see what he was doing. Then he ran and held open his arms. “Brother!”

  “Hey, Buddy.” He came up and they hugged. “Whatcha been doing?”

  “Nothing.” Carl Joseph answered fast. “Not writing a letter to Daisy. Not me.”

  Brother stopped and crossed h
is arms. He looked around at the computer and then back again. “Are you lying to me, Buddy?”

  “Yes.” Again his answer was fast. Because Mom said you don’t love someone you lie to. And you don’t lie to someone you love. He nodded, very serious. “Yes, Brother. I’m lying.”

  “How come?” Brother put his arm on his shoulder and looked at him. Straight at him.

  Carl Joseph felt his heart slow down a little. Brother still loved him. ’Cause he put his hand on Carl Joseph’s shoulder and that meant, “I love you, Buddy.” Carl Joseph put his hands on his knees and breathed out like when he raced Gus at break time. When he looked up he licked his lips first. “You don’t like Daisy.”

  “What?” Brother looked hurt. So maybe he did like Daisy. “Buddy, that’s not true. I like her a lot. She has cute blonde hair.”

  “ ’Cause she has cute blonde hair and she likes Minnie Mouse.” Carl Joseph looked down at the floor. His heart was pounding again. “And Brother likes Minnie Mouse.”

  “That’s right.” He sounded tired. He led Carl Joseph back into the office and pulled out the computer chair. “Sit here.”

  Carl Joseph did as he was told. He sat down and looked at the blank screen.

  “You were writing a letter to Daisy, right?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t look around. He didn’t want to see if Brother was mad or not. “A letter to Daisy.”

  “Okay, Buddy. Then go ahead.” He reached down and hugged Carl Joseph from the back. “Go ahead and write to Daisy. I like when you write letters.”

  “ ’Cause”—Carl Joseph turned around and looked at Brother’s eyes—“I was inviting her to Disneyland with me.” He looked at the screen again. “Teacher says when you entertain, you need to invite someone.”

  Brother sounded a little more tired. “Fine. Go on and write your invitation. I’m not mad at you, Buddy.” He came around and sat on the edge of the desk. Then he looked straight at Carl Joseph. “I love you, Buddy. Okay? Remember that?”

  Carl Joseph thought for a moment. “Yes, I remember.”