Kurt Wagner was waiting for Brenda outside the dining room. "I can't vait to zee her face vhen I tell her!"
Presently she came charging up the hall, looking as though she'd seen a ghost. "Brenda? Are you okay?"
"What? Oh . . . hi, Kurt."
"Vhat's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing," she said.
"I came to tell you good news! I talked to my friend Forge, and he said he could come help you find out who bought zat plane ticket for you." When he got no answer, he said, "Zat's vhat you vanted, isn't it? To find out who sent you here?"
"What? Oh . . . er, good. When?"
"Right after school," Kurt said. "You interested?"
Brenda nodded as the words sank in. Kurt sensed a certain reluctance that he couldn't understand. "Vhat is wrong?"
"I can't help wondering if . . . everything is quite what it seems to be. I'm just so confused about everything. What if I end up being related to someone really horrible? What if they're lovely, but they just don't want me?"
"Ach, Brenda, you vorry too much," Kurt told her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Everyzing vill be all right."
"You WHAT?"
All four Brotherhood boys stared at Mystique in shock. They couldn't believe what she had just told them.
"It's not a big deal," she said. "I just have to go into the hospital for a few days. While I'm gone, I've arranged for someone to stay here and keep an eye on you."
"We don't need a babysitter!" Lance snapped. "We can take care of ourselves!"
"Yeah!" Pietro shouted. It was the first time the two of them had agreed on anything in days.
"No discussion," Mystique said. "He should be here soon. I'll be getting a full report from him on your behavior, so don't disappoint me."
There was the sound of a car horn from outside. "That's my cab. Be good, I'll see you soon." She picked up her suitcase and started for the door.
Toad had been quiet during her little speech, but he was very worried for her. He still remembered the day his mom had gone into the hospital—"just for a few tests"—and had never come home.
Suddenly, impulsively, he ran to catch up with Mystique. He jumped up and threw his arms around her neck. "I love you," he said, burying his face in her shoulder.
"Yes, that's nice," Mystique said, trying to pry him loose, "but I have to go now."
"No! Don't go!"
The others were just standing there staring at him.
"I have to leave!" She tried again to remove Toad from around her neck. "Let go!"
"No, don't leave me! Don't leave me, Mommy!"
Did he just call me Mommy?
Finally Mystique pulled him off and shoved him to the floor. "Stop whining, you little dolt! I'm not dying! And if you ever call me Mommy again, you'll be the one in the hospital!" She rushed out to the cab before it left without her.
Todd ran after her, but couldn't catch up. Shoulders slumped, he trudged back to the house.
He stopped dead in the doorway.
"I called her Mommy?"
"Okay, let's start with the ticket itself and backtrack from there," Scott suggested.
The boy at the keyboard looked up and asked, "What's the flight number?"
"Hang on, I'll check." Brenda ran to her room and came back wth a pair of ticket stubs. "Here we are. British Airways flight 854, seat number 68."
Forge entered the numbers into the computer so fast that his fingers were a blur.
"Wow," Brenda said. "You're really good at that."
"Thanks. I'm working on a direct neural interface for my home unit. Do you think I should go with a headband or a helmet?" His eyes never left the screen as he talked.
"Headband, I think."
"I'll start working on designs when I get home. Ah! Found it. The ticket was bought with a credit card; let me see if I can trace that." He tapped the keys again and found the billing information. "Here we are. Mrs. Martha Ellis, 4 Penny Lane, Ruttletop . . ."
Brenda gasped as she remembered where she'd heard that name. It was her mother's mother, whom she'd never met.
Or had she?
"Is there a photograph?" she asked.
"I can probably find one." Tap tap tappity tap. "I think this is it." A small black-and-white photo popped up on the screen. It was a few years out of date, but Brenda recognized the woman anyway.
No wonder she was looking at me like that, Brenda thought, remembering that day in the book shop. She must have known who I was all along.
"There's an e-mail address here," Forge said. "Want to talk to her?"
"I say go for it," said Scott. "What have you got to lose?"
What, indeed? "All right, I will." Brenda took over in the computer chair.
"If you want, I'll show you how to set up a chat room so you can actually talk to her in real time."
"Wait, wait! One thing at a time!" This all seemed too good to be true. It was coming together like a fairy tale. So now I find my long-lost grandmother and we live happily ever after? It can't be. Things don't happen like this in real life.
"When's our babysitter supposed to show up?" Toad asked. He was sitting by the window, looking out every few seconds or so.
"I dunno," Fred said, "but I hope he brings us dinner."
"Hey, I thought we were having a meeting tonight," Lance said as he checked his watch for the hundredth time.
Pietro was flipping TV channels so fast they were little more than static. "The boss called it off after I told him about Mystique. He wanted to meet with the whole team."
"Sure he did," Lance smirked. "Right after he and Santa Claus have their nails done, right?"
Todd wasn't listening to them. He kept staring out the window, wondering what Brenda was doing now. Funny how he'd only met her a few days ago, and now she was all he could think about.
"What's with you?" asked Pietro.
"Huh?"
"I said, what's with you? You've been acting funny all week. And it's only Tuesday."
"Tuesday," Todd sighed.
"Did you get brain damage or something?" Pietro asked. "From when you were sick?"
"What?"
"I've heard that sometimes viruses can cause brain damage."
"Oh, c'mon, I had a cold!"
"That's what you think," Pietro said, and would say no more.
And he thinks I'm acting weird, Todd thought. He heard the sound of a motor in the driveway. Looking out the window, he saw a huge man on a motorcycle pull up and park in front of the house.
"Jeez, man," Fred said, "that's our sitter?"
"I didn't know Mystique hung out with bikers, yo."
"Just be glad she didn't send some humongous women's prison guard or something," Lance said. "Maybe this guy will get drunk and pass out, and we can sneak out."
The stranger came up the walk, onto the porch, and rang the doorbell.
The boys looked at each other.
"Get the door."
"No, you get it!"
"I'm not getting it! Besides, you're closer!"
"You're closer, dimwit!"
"Fine! I'll get it!" Lance stormed to the door and yanked it open, just as the sitter was removing his helmet.
Boy, that guy's scary-looking. He's supposed to watch us? Who's watching him?
"Is Ms. Darkholme here?"
"Nah, she left already."
"She did? I thought she'd wait till I got here. Did she leave any instructions?"
"Uh . . ." The boys stared at one another.
"Never mind, I see them." There was a folded piece of paper on top of the desk. The big man opened it up and squinted at it. "I can't make heads or tails of this! That woman's handwriting is terrible! I better talk to her before she goes into surgery . . ."
"Wait a minute! What surgery?" Lance demanded.
"She didn't tell you?" The sitter looked almost amused.
"Tell us what?" Toad asked.
"I can't believe she didn't tell you."
"You better tell us!" Fred grabbed the stranger by the front of his coat, but the man twisted out of his grasp.
"Calm down, Junior. She's just having her tonsils out."
All four boys stared at him, their jaws scraping the floor.
The sitter flopped down in the easy chair. "You boys want to order some food, I'll pay for it."
Now that he was recovering from the shock, Todd felt angry at Mystique for lying to them. "Why didn't she tell us?"
"Maybe she was just embarrassed. You can take it up with her when she comes home, day after tomorrow."
"Day after tomorrow?" They'd be stuck with this guy for two days?
"That's what she told me. I don't suppose there's anything to drink around here?"
Brenda kept checking her e-mail for word from her grandmother. She looked through every folder, in case it wound up in the Trash pile by mistake, but it wasn't in any of them.
She was about to send a message to the e-mail help desk to see if there was a problem with her account when she looked up and saw Storm beside her.
"There's a telephone call for you," she said. "I think it's your grandmother."
"Is it?" Brenda could hardly contain her excitement.
"You can take it in my study," said Professor Xavier. "That will give you a little privacy."
"Thank you!" She didn't breathe again till she picked up the phone. Gasping for air, she flopped down in a chair on the far side of the desk. "Yes? Hello?"
"I wondered how long it would take you to suss it out," a warm feminine voice said.