Bassy had joined me at the table after mom left. The two of us are a study in contrasts -- we literally have nothing in common except our last name and the names of our parents. I stole a glance at him. Goodness, I can't believe he's gotten so tall and handsome now. If we weren't related.... just kidding.
"Vanna," he began, clearing his throat. I knew it was coming. When he wants to tell me something he starts humming and hawing and he has these long pauses in between words.
"What is it, Bassy?" I looked up from the ratatouille to see his blue eyes boring into me. When he wants to get serious, he lets me know about it.
"This adoption business -- if I'm gonna be uncle to these children, I'd like to go to Egypt with you and meet them."
My mouth flew open. "You -- go to Egypt?"
"Is there anything wrong with me going?" he asked me. "I mean, I'm old enough to go now."
"Bassy!" I tried to remind him that he was still in school.
But he had already backed me into a corner. "From what you say on the blog, they sound pretty cool."
I let out a smile. "They're awesome, really."
"Who knows, maybe I could go inside a tomb or two."
There's something more than a little bit unsettling about tagging my kid brother along on tomb raids. What have I done to this poor little boy?
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