* * *
We spent the better part of the day helping Armand and Madame Duguay with things around the house. I dusted the old grandfather clock, the mantle, and the backs of the chairs. Josh beat the rugs outside with this long stick thing that looks like a badminton racket. He also swept the front porch and pulled all the weeds in the flower bed. Together, we put away all the dishes and mopped the kitchen floor. After lunch (Madame Duguay fed us an awesome lunch - turkey, tomato, lettuce, and cheese sandwiches with horseradish sauce and Dijon mustard) we washed the windows and put a fresh coat of paint on the front step and on the mailbox. Armand seemed to have trouble trusting us with the painting and hovered over us until Madame Duguay shooed him away. While the paint dried, we helped Madame Duguay clean out the cellar and the attic. She ended up getting rid of a ton of stuff - including an old stamp album which Josh spent an hour going through, picking out the stamps he liked. By the time she said we’d done enough, it was nearly time to get supper started.
“Your uncle said they’d be home for supper so I’d like to have it ready by six.”
I nod as we head into the kitchen.
“There are these onions I really must use,” she lays a hand on the bag of onions resting on the countertop, “and these carrots,” she moves her hand to a bundle of carrots I’d seen her take out of the fridge at lunch, “and I’ve got a chicken from Monsieur Dumont - he owns the chicken farm down the road - and so I think we’ll have chicken with onion and carrots and perhaps I can get you and your brother to run for the store for some potatoes.”
“Where’s the store?” I ask, suddenly salivating at the chance to get out and see something.
My sudden excitement makes her smile. “It’s about two kilometres from here. I would let you take the bicycles to get there.”
“Really!? That would be awesome, Madame Duguay!”
She laughs. “And what? You didn’t have an awesome time doing chores with me today?” She squeezes my shoulder playfully and I know she’s not expecting an answer.
“We get to go biking?”
Josh is in the kitchen now, standing about five feet away, a hopeful expression on his face.
“I’m going - ” I catch myself before I tell him he’s not coming.
Sigh.
“Do you want to come with me?”
His face lights up at my invitation. “Hell yeah! I mean...yeah...” he corrects himself under Madame Duguay’s stern stare.
“Awww, isn’t that nice. You two are finally starting to act as a brother and sister should.”
I want to roll my eyes but I smile instead, a fake smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah...” I say with a nervous laugh.
Madame Duguay claps her hands together. “Bon. I’ll have Armand get you two set up with the bicycles and I’ll start supper.” She turns and looks down the hallway and I plug my ears just in time. “ARMAND!”