Wart by Anna Myers Page A

fastened his attention on untying and tying his shoes like he was just learning. He did not want to think, but the glow inside him was definitely less bright. Coming up the steps from the dressing room, Stewart kept his gaze down. He didn't want to look toward where Dad and Ms. Gibbs were probably still sitting, waiting for him. When he was on the top step, his father's voice forced him to look up. "Here's our star," he said, and Stewart was surprised to see it was Martha, not Ms. Gibbs who waited with his father.
    He wanted to run to Martha and hug her, but instead he gave her a big smile. "Wow," he said, "I didn't know you were here."
    "I came in near the end, but I saw the important part." She reached out and gave him a quick hug. Stewart wanted to hold on to her and beg her to marry his dad and come home with them.
    His father reached over to punch him on the shoulder. "Some game, Stew," he said. "Wanda had to leave, but she wanted me to congratulate you for her."
    Stewart ignored the mention of Wanda Gibbs and smiled at his father. He felt good. Dad was pleased over his playing well because he knew it made Stewart feel good. He wasn't one of those fathers pushing his kid to be an athlete so he'd have something to brag about to his friends. Dad had always been great to him, no matter what. Stewart resolved to tell Ms. Gibbs he didn't want her help anymore. He didn't want her near his father either.
    He decided to make a suggestion. "Hey," he said, "let's go home and get Georgia and all go out to eat. Gran can put tonight's supper in the fridge." He could see from the look on Martha's face that she liked the idea. They both looked at his father.
    "Georgia's missed you." His father looked down, embarrassed.
    "We all have," Stewart added quickly.
    "Yes," Dad laughed, and he seemed to relax. "We've all missed you."
    "Let's go to the Stagecoach," Dad suggested. "We'll meet you there after we pick up Georgia." It was a burger place where all the booths were shaped like stagecoaches.
    "You know," said Martha to Stewart and Georgia at the restaurant when their father went to the restroom, "this is where your father and I came for our first meal together. It wasn't a date, just a chance to grab a bite after a meeting we were in together." Her voice sounded sad.
    Stewart felt miserable. "Martha," he said, "I'm sorry I didn't want you to marry Dad. I was acting like a baby."
    His hand rested on the table, and Martha reached out to pat it. "You've grown up a lot lately, haven't you?" she said.
    Dad came back just in time to hear that. "He really is growing up, isn't he?" Georgia played quietly with her toy horse while the others spent some time then talking about Stewart's future. It wasn't just pressure talk about making good grades. Martha and Dad were asking questions about his interests and making suggestions about professions.
    "You've always loved history," said his father. "You might want to be a college professor, too, or work in a museum."
    Georgia looked up from her play. "You could be a doctor."
    "Nah," Stewart shook his head. "I don't like blood."
    "Well, then you could be a psychologist," suggested Martha.
    "Would you treat me for free?" His father grinned slightly.
    "I'm not sure you can wait that long, Dad," Stewart said.
    They were all laughing when the waitress came to take their order. "It's nice to see a happy family," she said. They didn't correct her, just smiled at each other. Stewart hated to see the meal come to an end. They all walked out together. It was a beautiful fall night. Stewart moved as slowly as he could, hoping that Dad would say something about seeing Martha again, but he didn't.
    All the way to the car, Stewart kicked at a small rock in the parking lot. Before getting into the car, he gave it one last kick and watched it bounce under the car parked beside theirs. No one said much on the way home. He started thinking, of course, about Ms. Gibbs. Had she really made him play so well? When he was on