Sociopath? Read Free Page B

already.”
    “Six, Mom, she’s six.”
    “Six, then, and starting school. My last
baby. I’ll take her this week.”
    Of course, Magdelene had spared no expense so
Laney had all new jeans and tops and dresses and skirts and
sweaters and blouses and sox and underwear and shoes and a new
winter coat, red with gold buttons!
    Rafe helped her pick out her first school
outfit - a denim jumper embroidered with flowers on the bib with a
knit pink top and her new pink sneakers. She held his hand walking
to the end of their lane and sat beside him on the bus. Once at
school, he took her to her room.
    “Remember, your room is 110 and your teacher
is Miss Prince. You’ll like her. She’s nice. I’ll meet you when
it’s time to go home and make sure you get on the right bus.”
    She loved it, oh, she loved it. It was so
much fun being around all the other kids and Rafe was right, Miss
Prince was so nice. She loved learning things. The only stuff she
knew was what Rafe had ever taught her. Thankfully, he’d made sure
she was able to tie her shoes and write her name and say her
alphabet and count and tell time or she would have been embarrassed
since the teacher tested them to make sure they all knew how to do
those things. She never thought to wonder how he had learned to do
them.
    When the morning was over, he met her like he
said he would and watched her until she was safely on the big bus.
She couldn’t wait until the next day when she’d get to come back
again!
    * *
    She woke him up crying. He looked over at the
clock and saw it was after 1:00 a.m.
    “What’s the matter, Honey?” he asked
drowsily.
    “E-e-everyone is going to h-h-h-hate me,
Rafe,” she sobbed.
    “Why are they going to hate you, Laney?”
    “C-c-cause I’m s’posed to bring c-c-cupcakes
for Refreshment Day but Reba left early. S-s-she was gone when I
got h-h-home and you know it w-w-wouldn’t do any good to ask
M-m-mom.”
    For a moment, they both pondered the thought
of the elegant Magdelene whipping up a batch of cupcakes but
neither could begin to grasp that exotic concept.
    “No,” he finally said, “Mom wouldn’t have
baked them herself but she most likely would have had Bannings
deliver some.”
    “I never t-t-thought of that. It’s just
g-g-going to be so a-a-awful tomorrow,” she wailed.
    He got up and patted her on the back. “Just
go back to sleep, Sweetie. I’ll make sure you have cupcakes in the
morning.”
    “Will you, Rafe, really?”
    “Yes, Lane, go to sleep”, which she did in
complete assurance that Rafe always did what he said he would
do.
    He padded down the stairs barefoot and in his
blue-striped pajama bottoms. Flipping the switch inside the door,
he looked across the enormous kitchen. “Bloody ‘ell, Mate,” he
muttered to himself, “you better be getting some organ-o-za-tion
goin’ or you’ll be here all night.”
    Okay, where to start? First, make a list of
all the stuff he knew he’d need. Number one would probably be a
recipe since he didn’t have a clue how to make freakin’ cupcakes.
Surely, Reba had cookbooks around here somewhere. She couldn’t
simply remember every dish she prepared, could she?
    He went over to the small built-in desk with
the phone above it where he knew there was a pad of paper and a
pen. He started his list.
    *
    Recipe
    Cupcake pans
    Little paper cup thingies
    Spoon
    Big bowl
    Mixer
    Flour, sugar, eggs (what else?)
    *
    That was all he was sure of. But how to find
it all? He had limited experience with this room, mostly only
checking the walk-in cooler for something to drink or to make a
sandwich. He looked around it now. There appeared to be acres of
cherry cupboards and granite countertops and slatey looking ceramic
tile floors and stainless steel appliances. He guessed the best way
was just to start at one end and work his way through every
cupboard, drawer and countertop until he located everything he
needed. He knew most of the food stuff was kept either in the