“Is he yours?” “No, my goodness!” said Mrs. Garcia, smiling a big smile now that was totally different from her shiny smile.
“You’ve just made my day. He’s my grandson.” “What a cutie!” said Mom, shaking her head. “How old?”
In that picture he was five months, I think. But he’s big now. Almost eight years old!”
“Wow,” said Mom, nodding and smiling. “Well, he is absolutely beautiful.”
“Thank you!” said Mrs. Garcia, nodding like she was about to say something else about her grandson.
But then all of a sudden her smile got a little smaller. “We’re all going to take very good care of August,” she said to Mom,
and I saw her give Mom’s hand a little squeeze. I looked at Mom’s face, and that’s when I realized she was just as nervous as I was.
I guess I liked Mrs. Garcia—when she wasn’t wearing her shiny smile.
Jack Will, Julian, and Charlotte
We followed Mr. Tushman into a small room across from Mrs. Garcia's desk.
He was talking as he closed the door to his office and sat down behind his big desk, though I wasn't really paying much attention to what he was saying.
I was looking around at all the things on his desk. Cool stuff, like a globe that floated in the air and a Rubik's-type cube made with little mirrors.
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