“Nothing brings the flow of conversation to a screeching halt like Atticus asking for the peas,” Bartholomew had said at the huge dining room table, all set with the good china, glassware, and a ton of food.
“If he asks for sweet potatoes, we’re in big trouble.” That was Emmanuel.
“Spit it out, bro. The game’s almost over,” Sullivan groused, when Atticus tried to ask if the Lions were beating the Patriots.
When dessert time rolled around, Atticus went without.
“P-p-p-pumpkin or m-m-m-mincemeat?” Montgomery cackled as he held both up out of reach anyway, teasing Atticus two ways for the price of one. He was the tallest and the jerkiest.
Atticus walked away.
And when their dad complained about Gabriel putting on Christmas carols Thanksgiving evening, Gabriel shot back with, “Atticus ha
