Munificent
It was the one place I always knew I could go. I hid there most afternoons, waiting until the first few stars arrived in the twilight sky before heading home, hoping to have avoided the transfer of power.
Frankie should have been off to work by then, and mom would be hovering over the kitchen sink, washing the dinner dishes. My belly was full when I'd walk in, and I'd tiptoe into the hallway, craning my neck to see if she noticed. But her head was always somewhere else.
Belinda played in her room with some old dolls, and I slithered past her door and slipped into my bedroom, gently shutting the door behind me.
In my backpack, I'd pull out one of the many books she'd lent me and a baggie of warm chocolate chip cookies. She left me a note this time: "Don't forget to make your wish tonight."
I closed my eyes and imagined her warm embrace, the smell of her chamomile tea brewing in the pot on the stove and the tickle of Chester, her tabby, brushing against my leg. I smiled. That was my wish.











