Excerpt:

Skyla looked at him and raised her eyebrows and pursed her mouth. She grabbed his hand. "Clive, this isn't the time or the place. Come on outside and sit down and have dessert."

Gram stared after them. "Naomi, would you run and fetch my sweater from my bed? There's a chill outside."

As I passed the bathroom, I noticed something wadded up on the edge of the sink. It was Clive's napkin. Next to it a brown-streaked lump of soap sat in a puddle of water. He had taken my bluebird of happiness from the Thanksgiving table and used it wash the turkey grease from his hands.

After the contentment of the pies had set in, Owen and Bernardo laid out the checkerboard.

"Who wants to play?" asked Owen. I glanced at Bernardo and smiled. Owen could beat most adults.

"I'll play," said Skyla. They played three games in a row and Skyla won each time. After every game she whooped and hollered and yelled, "I won!"
Owen just sat there, grinning a happy face. "Want to play again?"

I had never once seen Owen lose to anyone. I looked at Bernardo, and he shrugged his shoulders.

Gram said, "Skyla, why would any grown-up take that much delight in winning over a small child?"

"He needs to learn how to compete. He needs to learn how to use his brain. Set 'em up again, Own, and let's see you try harder."

"He couldn't get any smarter," said Gram.

"Oh, I know," said Skyla, patting Owen on the head like he was a dog.

I could tell that Skyla didn't believe Gram. "He gets straight As," I said.

"Naomi, that's real sweet of you to stick up for your brother. I'm the same way with people, always trying to make them feel better. That's why you and me are two peas in a pod."