CLARA

#Chapter34 CLARA 20 years ago… I eye the line I’ve tried to read again and again for the past fifteen minutes. If anyone would pay slight attention to me, they would know I’m not concentrating on my homework. All my attention is focused on Samuel, who is perched on the other end of the kitchen counter and I’m having a very hard time trying to keep my eyes off of him. Normally, he wouldn’t be here, in the kitchen of the pack house, but it’s an important day. Today’s the day my mom makes her favorite cranberry pies and Samuel is addicted to them. He needs to have a piece of them fresh out of the oven and the very last piece to know how the pie reacts to being stored with time. I call bullshit because the whole pack knows that the one thing, he is crazy about are, are those pies and I don’t blame him. My mom’s pies are the very best. This is my routine; every day I come back from school, sit at the kitchen island, watch my mom make the best available on the planet, and do my homewor