A few hours later, I'm sitting at the Washington dinner table, not really talking, just listening.

Mr. Washington is talking about politics with Alex, and John is trying to be interested. Mrs. Washington "call me Martha, dearie" is still in the kitchen, making something that smells delicious. The scent of garlic and butter wafts through the house, leaving my mouth watering.

"You see, because of the financial state of our nation, the one way we can salvage our systems..." Washington is gesticulating, talking to Alex about the state of the treasury.
I'm trying to pay attention, but all of the statistics and figures are making my eyes glaze over.

"So, Kathryn, are you excited to start school?" John seems to catch my look of boredom and swoops to my rescue.
I straighten and blink. "Yes, absolutely! I'm signed up for the advanced dance program, plus three different singing ones and the school musical."
Alex grins. "An overachiever- just like me."
I smile back and tuck my hair behind my ear. "That's me. I'm just so excited!"

Washington smiles. "I'm glad you're settling in well, Kathryn. I actually wanted to ask you..."
Before he can finish his sentence, Martha is twirling into the room, holding a giant pot of something that smells heavenly. I remember skipping dinner last night, and now I'm hungrier than ever.

"Boulliabaisse," Alex says, sitting back in his chair. "Excellent. Martha, you know I think your cooking is wonderful."
"Better than mine?" John pouts.
"Never," Alex promises, giving him a kiss.

I look down at the giant pot. "What the heck is boullia-whatever?"
Mr. Washington laughs. "Martha went to France last summer and fell in love with the food. This is a seafood dish, served with bread."
It smells delicious, even if I still don't know how to say it.

While we eat, Martha tries to keep us talking about interesting things- namely, not politics. The dinner conversation is a little like flipping channels on TV very quickly.
"Kathryn, have you ever been to France? I went to visit your uncle Lafayette last summer-"
"Filled with Liberals, and I said-"
"My best friend is from France, but I've never been-"
"There's no way that Federalism can make a comeback-"

I mostly just eat, occasionally piping in when Martha asks a question or John says something funny. The seafood stuff is delicious, and I'm ravenously hungry.

When we're all full to the point of being sleepy and content, Washington speaks.
"Kathryn, as you know, I'm the president and a very busy man. I'm currently running an agenda to improve the lives of foster children in our country."
"That's awesome!" I smile, taking a forkful of the cake that sits on the table. I'm not hungry anymore, but it just tastes too good to pass up.
"I was wondering...I'm hosting a press conference in a few weeks, to talk about my new plan. I was wondering if you would be willing to come and speak about why it's important to give a good life to foster kids."

I drop my fork. "I would love to! I would absolutely love to!"
Martha chimes in. "You're not the only kid speaking, either. Theodosia, she's Senator Burr's daughter, and Thomas Jefferson has a daughter named Harriet who's going to talk as well. They're about your age."

"Okay," I say, already making plans. "What should I wear? What time do I need to be there? When-"
Alex cuts me off. "Don't worry, Kathie. We've got it taken care of."

I feel a strange new sensation in my gut- my first pang of homesickness. Or maybe I just ate too much cake. Miss Falcon is the only one who ever calls me Kathie. I miss her, I miss the dinner that always gets cooked wrong. I miss sharing the basement with Emmy, eating Oreo Pop·Tarts for breakfast and climbing trees with Martin and Jacob. I even miss reading the classic books with Livv.

I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts that I don't notice when my eyelids begin to droop. I tuck my legs up in my chair and try fruitlessly not to fall asleep.

In the car on the way home, I listen to John and Alex talking softly in the front of the little car. I don't mean to be tired, but I ate lots of food and woke up pretty early this morning. Against the background of their conversations, I fall asleep.

***********************

I wake up not in bed, but on the dark staircase towards my room. I'm being carried by someone, and it feels like Alex. Someone, I assume John, is walking next to him.
"Should we wake her up so she can brush her teeth?" Alex sounds kind of concerned.
"Let her sleep." I can feel the stairs as we move, because it bounces me up and down slightly. John places a hand on my shoulder.

I keep my eyes closed, trying to stay still.
"I don't know how to deal with teenage girls," Alex says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
"Right now, you put them to bed."
We've made the turn into my room now. I feel myself being lowered, and someone pulls the blankets up over me.

I can tell it's Alex who brushes my hair out of my face and adjusts my pillow. I can tell it's John who kisses me on the forehead lightly.

"Good night, Kathryn," he says softly, then gives the blanket one final pat.
"We love you," Alex whispers, then they leave.
I would have told them that I love them, too, but I'm already asleep.