The Dream Thief, Kari Kilgore [reading well TXT] 📗

table. Even when he attempted to give his brain the day off, it was determined to catalog every bit of gossip and news with the person who delivered it.

Who'd been promoted, who had a dispute with a neighbor, who was falling into or out of love. The benefit was he didn't have to pretend to be interested whether he wanted to be or not. And staying quiet in a crowd like this was the best way to keep his own life private.

That only lasted until all the cousins went home. Their traditional Sunday afternoon gathering in the second-floor family room gave Karl's mother the perfect chance for a bit of affectionate cross-examination. Of course if he visited more often, or called, she might not have felt the need to investigate him so thoroughly when she had the chance.

Karl remembered playing with puzzles and toys, or later reading on the colorful pillows piled up at one end of the room during these long afternoons. He'd watched his older brothers and sister sitting in the wingback chairs and sofa around the fireplace with their parents, envious and wondering what the quiet conversations were about. Andy still joined their youngest sisters sometimes, but he usually stayed close when Karl was around.

When Klia Gilmore set her delicate pink teacup down with a sigh, Karl knew he was in her sights.

"Karl, you seem so tired today," she said. "Have you been getting enough days off?"

He decided not to mention the mass of socializing he'd just been through.

"We normally get enough days off, sure. Longer hours than usual lately. That's all."

"Maybe you just need a change of scenery," his mother said. Her slow smile and blush warned Karl he wasn't going to like the next words. "I hear there's a new house going up over on Juniper Street, set up for young single men your age. And a house a couple of blocks over for single women, too."

"That would be a long trip every day, Mother," Karl said. "Housing out at the Columns isn't exactly luxurious, but it's free. You know that."

Something in his tone made Karl's father glance up over the edge of his broadsheet. Arthur Gilmore didn't tolerate any sort of sharp talk, certainly not in the evenings. Karl had lived away for ten years, but he still knew when to smile and keep his mouth shut. He did both.

"Maybe I should move over there," Andy said with a grin.

Karl couldn't stop himself from grinning back.

"Not quite yet, young man," their mother said. Her pursed mouth said more than her words or the brisk shake of her head. "You'll stay here until you have eighteen years, same as all your brothers and sisters."

She picked up her teacup again, noticed it was empty, and refilled everyone's with sweet, mint-and-bergamot-flavored water.

"That reminds me," she said. "I heard from Rethia this morning. She went to the doctor, and the baby is strong and healthy as ever. She was hoping they'd say she could keep working, but she's on leave just like the first time. I told her the Ministry would manage just fine without her. The baby will be a lot healthier for it. I think she's happier when she can fret about something."

Karl glanced at their father to make sure he was buried in his paper again, then winked at Andy. As was almost always the case on these obligatory visits home, his little brother had rescued him from their mother's clutches. Or at least from her questions. Karl's impending niece or nephew, the eighth so far, was much safer territory.

"Arthur," she said, her hand on her husband's arm. "Andy had the highest talent scores in his class last week. He might be at the Ministry before he's sixteen."

She beamed at her youngest son, but her face fell when she turned back to Karl. He tried to keep his own features neutral, and he was usually pretty good at that. No matter what he told himself or saw out in the world, he was terribly self-conscious as a non-Builder in a family loaded to the gills with them.

"Way to go, Andy!" Karl said. "You'll be moving up the ranks before you're twenty." Karl stood, glad to take the excuse his mother's embarrassed silence gave him. "I'd better be on my way. New trainees tomorrow. Have to get an early start."

Klia Gilmore's red cheeks shifted from embarrassment to a flush of pride in an instant. Even if Karl wasn't following in any of the approved family career paths, anyone as high up in the Ministry of Decorum as she was knew bragging rights when she heard them.

"That's wonderful," she said. "How much of the training do you handle now?"

"All of it for these new orderlies," Karl said. "And most for junior nurses. I made head trainer a few weeks ago."

"Oh, why didn't you tell us?" she said, tears in her light brown eyes.

Karl winced at his mother's genuinely stricken expression. He wondered why he waited to drop these good news bombs until he was ready to leave. Some kind of perverse need to run down his own accomplishments? His excuse to himself about not wanting announcements in all the papers didn't make sense when he didn't even live here anymore.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I just forgot. We've had a lot of new recruits lately. Probably could use more days off with so much going on. Lots of great bonus pay, though."

To Karl's surprise, that got his father to look over the edge of his broadsheet again. Mr. Gilmore raised his eyebrows just a tiny bit and nodded, but everyone at the grown-up end of the room saw it. That was the biggest approval Karl or anyone else was likely to get.

Andy and their mother turned to Karl, the admiration plain. Not so much over the pay. Only his father would be impressed by that. Everyone else was impressed at those eyebrows and that nod.

"In any case, I need to get back," he said. "Thank you for brunch, Mother.