Loving You by Maureen Child Page B

pictures, so people could see the players’ faces. The photographer had caught Nick mid-leap, catching a pass, and his wide smile seemed to be aimed directly at Jonas. Scrawled across the bottom of the photo were the words:
Running Backs Rule! Best Wishes, Nick Candellano
.
    It was the same thing written on all of the pictures he’d received from Nick. Sometimes the color ink was different and sometimes the way he signed his name changed, but other than that, they were just the same. Jonas had written four letters to his dad, telling him where he lived and how Nick could get in touch with him. Then he’d spent days watching the mailbox, waiting for a letter from his father.
    But all he ever got was those pictures.
    â€œHe is.” Jonas looked at Tommy Malone. “He sends me pictures special, whenever I ask him to.”
    Tommy took the picture and held it carefully by the edges, so his fingers wouldn’t get it all dirty. “That’s pretty cool, but how come you wanna sell ’em?”
    Jonas rubbed the back of hand under his nose. “’Cause I don’t need all of ’em.” And Tasha’s birthday was coming up and he might need money and he could always get more pictures of his father.
    â€œI don’t have five bucks,” Tommy said. “I’ve only got three.”
    Jonas thought about it for a long minute. Three dollars was better than nothing. “Okay, three.”
    Tommy grinned at him, dug into his jeans pocket, and pulled out three crumpled one-dollar bills. He handed them to Jonas, then wandered off, across the playground, still admiring the photo of his favorite football player.
    The first bell rang and the crowds of kids started wandering closer to the brick school buildings. Lunch recess was almost over. Noise rose up on the cold November wind and drifted across the overgrown lawn toward the asphalt. Tetherball ropes and chains clanged against poles, and basketballs thumped against backboards. The lunch ladies wandered through the crowds of shouting kids, blowing silver whistles that shrieked for attention, yet still went unnoticed.
    â€œAre you selling all of ’em?” Alex asked as he sat down next to Jonas.
    â€œYep.” Leaning back against the old tree in the middle of the field, Jonas scooted over, making room for his pal. Tree bark bit into his back, right through his sweatshirt. He tipped his head back and stared up through the leafless limbs at the gray clouds overhead. The wind blew hard and sent the tree branches into a wild dance that made them kind of look like skeleton arms clapping together.
    â€œMy dad’ll get me more as soon as I meet him.”
    â€œWhen’s that gonna be?”
    â€œDon’t know for sure,” Jonas said, and tore his gaze away from the storm clouds crashing across the sky. “But it’ll be soon.”
    It had to be soon. ’Cause with Mimi dead and Tashaworried all the time, it was getting a little scary at home. He kept expecting to see Ms. Walker from Social Services pull into the driveway to take him away. Every time one of Tasha’s customers drove up to the house, Jonas’s stomach did a weird rolling thing that made him think he might barf. He always had to run to the window and look out to make sure it wasn’t Ms. Walker’s green Volkswagen parked outside.
    Ms. Walker was always saying how important Jonas was to her, but he didn’t like the way she kind of crinkled up her nose when she came inside. Like the house was dirty or something, and it totally wasn’t, ’cause Tasha was always cleaning and making him pick up his dirty socks and stuff out of the living room.
    But Ms. Walker didn’t like the house and she hadn’t liked Mimi, either. But ’cause Mimi was old, Ms. Walker treated her better. Nicer, kind of. But she treated Tasha like she was stupid, and pretty soon she’d probably take him away. Even though Tasha said it