Seventeen

Andrea kneeled down to help Brian off with his coat, smelling peanut butter on his breath. "How are you feeling, Sweetheart?"

"Yucky," Brian looked at Andrea with Jack's earnest blue eyes.

Andrea hugged him, pressing his forehead gently to her cheek. He was not warmer than usual. Mom's right, she thought, it probably was the same thing she had on Thanksgiving; was that what she meant? Her mother had surely been suspicious; she hadn't been easily fooled when Andrea and Bonnie were girls.

Andrea brushed her fingers through Brian's blond hair, saying, "I bet a long nap will set you right." She stood again, adding, "Why don't you go up to bed now. No playing video games, you hear. Sick boys need to rest."

As Andrea watched her son walk up the stairs, she noticed he was wearing a new pair of shoes.

"You look dreadful," her mother said, watching as Andrea turned to open the closet. "Are you sick again too?"

"No, I didn't sleep well last night," she answered, hanging Brian's coat on a waiting hook, "and I haven't had my caffeine fix yet."

"Why don't you take a shower and I'll make the coffee." Ruth said, removing her jacket. "Then we can have a chat."

"A chat?" Andrea said, unable to mask her uneasiness at such an early hour.