Read Fair Coin for Free Online Page B

hated sleeping in his clothes. It always made him feel like he hadn't actually slept, that the day was just a continuation of the day before.
    Oddly, his laundry basket was empty. He'd washed his clothes last week but had never gotten around to putting them away. When he checked his dresser, everything was neatly placed in the drawers, the way his mom used to fold them when she had bothered with housework.
    He pulled on a fresh shirt, tried to smooth his hair, and headed toward the sound of clattering pans.
    Breakfast was on the kitchen table. An actual breakfast. Crispy bacon was piled on a plate, with a paper napkin soaking up the grease. There was a platter of french toast, and a glass of orange juice waited for him at his place.
    “Good morning, sleepyhead.” His mom smiled at him from the stove. “I was about to wake you.”
    “Mom?” Ephraim stepped into the kitchen. The air was smoky, not from cigarettes but from whatever she was frying in the pan. “What are you doing?”
    “I thought you should have a good start to summer vacation. Don't expect this every morning.”
    “But…you don't cook.” Not anymore. He had become accustomed to cold cereals and flavored oatmeal from paper packets, or cold PopTarts from foil packages when he was running late. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen his mother out of bed before eight in the morning, let alone up and dressed and cheerful.
    “Are you all right, hon?” she said.
    When he passed the stove, his mother put a light hand on his shoulder to stop him. She pecked him on the cheek then tousled his already-tousled hair.
    “You were up late again, weren't you?” she said. “I just put some coffee on.”
    There was a squat coffeemaker on the counter. It was shiny, all bright chrome and black plastic. “When did we get that?”
    “Do you have a fever? Let me feel your head.” She reached for his forehead, but he ducked away.
    “I'm not sick!” Ephraim grabbed a mug and poured a half-cup of coffee from the coffeemaker. It smelled better than the instant Folgers coffee his mom favored. It tasted better too. He took it to the table and sat down. “How are you, Mom?”
    “Nice try. I'm worried about you. You don't sound like yourself.”
    She was one to talk. She seemed like a different person, and she looked good, better than usual. Her auburn hair was brushed and tied back in a high ponytail that made her look a few years younger. Her face had a healthy color, and she seemed slimmer, too.
    “What are you doing up so early?” he asked.
    She slid scrambled eggs onto a plate and placed it in front of him. “A little thing called work. You'll learn all about it one day.” As if he hadn't been picking up shifts for her and working summers since he'd started high school.
    “You're on the morning shift today?” Slovsky sometimes had her work doubles to make up for missed hours.
    “Now I'm really worried. Is something wrong, Eph?”
    “Never mind.” Was he still asleep? He wondered if he was dreaming all of this, but if he was, he didn't want to wake up yet. Not until after he'd had some of that bacon.
    “How was your last day of school? Sorry we didn't have a chance to talk last night. I guess I fell asleep on the couch.”
    Because you were drunk again. He shrugged. “I got an award,” he said.
    “Really? For what? Let me see.”
    Ephraim went to his room and brought her the certificate. He sat back down and forked some eggs into his mouth.
    “Perfect attendance.” She chuckled.
    “What?”
    “I'm proud of you.” She almost kept a straight face then laughed again. He snatched it away from her.
    “As well you should be. I value my education.”
    “Sure it isn't just that girl you like? Jena Kim?”
    Ephraim choked. “How did you know about her?”
    “You've only been mooning over Jena since the second grade. What was that school play she was in?”
    He'd never mentioned his crush to his mother, and she had never cared enough about his