The Steps by Rachel Cohn Page B

embarrassed when their dad was around. But Ben, you could tell, really liked his dad. They were buds. They laughed the same laugh, smiled the same smile, talked the same topics.
    â€œThis casserole is graayate, Mrs. Crosswell!” Patrick said.
    â€œGraayate!” Ben seconded. I am convinced “graayate” is the Australian national word, after any word cut off and ending in ie.
    â€œThey’re all each other has,” Granny Nell confided to me in the kitchen. Granny Nell didn’t treat me like a guest. She let me help with the chopping, cooking, and serving. “Those two look after the other since Ben’s mum passed and Patrick and Penny split up. That’s the way it should be with fathers and sons!” Then Granny Nell looked at me as I helped her pull a chocolate soufflé out of the oven. “Is that glitter on your eyelids?”
    I grinned.
    Granny Nell said, “Well, aren’t you tarted up but lovely.” I had borrowed back my panoramic New York picture dress and black platform sandals from Lucy. After Lucy and I had finished cleaning the shed, I had taken a shower and then put my hair in braids. I took the braids out right before Ben and his dad arrived, so that my hair fell down my back in blond waves. I added silver sparkle to my eyelids and a touch of pink lipstick to my lips. And Lucy, Jenny, and I had painted one another’s toenails a funky purple color earlier that afternoon.
    Patrick’s and Ben’s eyes widened very happily when we brought out the chocolate soufflé. It really was a special evening. Granny Nell had set up candles in the dining room, a lovely summer breeze was coming in through the lace curtains, and Duke Ellington jazz, which I knew because it was also one of Bubbe’s favorites, was playing on the stereo.
    Lucy and I knew it was our last night together before we had to return to Sydney and “be held accountable for our crimes,” as Granny Nell said, and there was a mellow happiness between us. Like we knew our adventure was ending, but how glad we were to have had it. Ben’s being there on our last evening of our adventure made the night more than perfect—it was bliss.
    â€œLucy,” Patrick said. “Sydney’s been good to you. You’re growing into a lovely girl. You’ll give your mother my best?” Lucy nodded shyly.
    â€œHow’s my buddy Angus?” Ben asked. “Tell him thanks for the birthday card!” Lucy had told me that Ben was Angus’s hero. Points for Angus.
    â€œMrs. Crosswell, this is the best chocolate soufflé I’ve ever had in my life.” Granny Nell beamed at Patrick’s compliment.
    â€œAre you seeing anyone, dear?” Granny Nell asked Patrick.
    â€œNo time, really,” Patrick said. He looked at Ben. “The boy keeps me pretty busy. We’re training him for professional footy, you know. And he’s going to work with me at some jobs this school holiday, right, son?” Ben’s dad was a contractor who installed skylights, did electrical work, and generally made people’s houses look and work amazingly, Lucy had told me. I could not name one boy at the Progress School who had a job with his dad.
    Ben nodded eagerly, but his mouth was full. Another thing I liked about Ben was how unspoiled he was. He wasn’t like those kids at the Progress School who can only talk about what computers their parents are going to get them, where their parents are taking them on vacation, what everyone could do for them. Ben was respectful and wanted to help his dad, instead of the other way around.
    For some reason, seeing Patrick and Ben together made me feel better about Harvey and Wheaties coming into my family. Having men around added an exciting energy to the dinner table.
    Lucy said to her grandmother, “Ben’s interested in learning how to surf over the school holidays. I was thinking maybe we could give him one of