Chapter 9

Jan opened one of the green double doors and entered the Brady residence on the following afternoon. She closed the door behind her and walked down the brick steps and across the living room. Once in the kitchen, she walked past Carol and Alice and greeted them without even looking in their direction. Jan got a glass, opened the green refrigerator, and got some milk. What she hadn't noticed while she was pouring herself a drink was that Carol and Alice had been staring at her – shock plastered on their faces.

"Jan, you're making a mess!" cried Carol – pointing at the milk dripping down the sides of her glass and making a puddle on the table.

"What?" Jan replied. She stopped pouring the milk and stared at her glass for a few seconds before leaning closer to it. Her eyes then popped open in shock. "You're right! I'm sorry – I don't know what's wrong with me."

Alice handed Jan a towel, and the thirteen-year-old wiped up the milk. Carol looked with concern at Jan. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Jan held out the rag, and Alice grabbed it. "I've been having trouble seeing today," Jan explained. "I can't read anything on chalkboards, and I can't read books without looking real closely at them."

"It sounds like you need new contact lenses," Alice said.

Jan nodded. "That sounds about right."

"Here, let me pour your milk," offered Carol. She then filled Jan's glass with the beverage. "There you go, honey," Carol said as she took the milk back to the refrigerator.

"Thanks, Mom," Jan said. She then reached for the milk – only to knock it off the table and cause it to loudly shatter on the floor. There was now a big puddle of milk on the floor, and the counter and table were covered with little white drops.

Carol and Alice jerked their heads in the direction of the sound. They both ran over and saw what had happened before looking at Jan in shock.

Tears started forming in Jan's eyes. "Mom! Alice! I'm so sorry!"

"Oh, there, there, honey, it's okay!" Carol said soothingly – pulling Jan in for a hug and gently rubbing her head. "No need to cry over spilt milk. Why don't you go upstairs and take a nap for now?" Carol suggested as Alice retrieved a mop.

Jan groaned. "Well, that would be a good idea – except…"

Carol frowned. "What is it, Jan?"

The middle child sighed. "Ever since yesterday, Marcia won't stop talking about those stupid Westdale Boosters, and Cindy keeps trying on different dresses and looking at herself in the mirror! It's getting on my nerves! I'm again starting to want to be an only child!"

Carol put a hand on Jan's left shoulder. "Jan, you've been through this before. You know that, deep down, you still love your brothers and sisters and enjoy spending time with them."

"Mom, please!" begged Jan. "Can I at least just have my own room? Greg and Marcia don't want the attic, and we don't have anything up there anymore, so maybe I could have it."

Carol looked at Alice. The housekeeper shrugged as she mopped up the spilt milk. Carol turned her attention back to Jan and said, "I guess that will be okay, but I don't want you moving up there until we get you some new contact lenses."

Immediately, Jan grinned. "Thanks, Mom!" she cried – squeezing her mother before running toward the living room.

"Jan, look out!" cried Alice. Before Jan could react, her body slammed into the red, brick wall that separated the kitchen and the living room. Her face seared in pain as she backed away from the wall.

Alice and Carol ran over to Jan and guided her out of the kitchen. "Are you okay?" Carol asked.

Jan nodded. "I will be."

"Come on, let's get you upstairs," her mother said as Alice and she guided Jan toward the stairs.

About an hour later, Alice and Carol were again in the kitchen – getting ready to prepare meatloaf for dinner. They both then heard the screeching of sliding glass doors and looked in their direction. Walking into the kitchen was Sam with something in white wrapping in his hands.

"Sam?" Alice gasped with a smile. "This is a pleasant surprise!" She walked over to the butcher and kissed him on the lips.

"I'm delivering your pork chops myself," Sam said – handing the meat to the housekeeper. He then made eye contact with Carol and smiled. "How are you, Mrs. Brady?" The housewife smiled and gave a nod.

"Thanks, Sam," Alice said – putting the meat in the refrigerator as Bobby walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, everybody," Bobby greeted as he walked toward the rear kitchen counter.

"Hey, how you doing, sh – uh, pal?" Sam greeted – stopping himself before he called Bobby "shrimpo." Although Bobby had seemingly accepted being short, the Bradys, Alice, and Sam had decided that it was still better to avoid calling attention to his stature.

"I'm good," Bobby said as he grabbed a red apple, which crunched as he took a big bite. The twelve-year-old then walked into the family room, turned on the TV, and sat in one of the chairs by the table.

Sam leaned toward Alice and Carol. "I almost called Bobby there 'shrimpo,'" the butcher said. "That was a close call."

"Yeah," Alice said.

Carol walked over to the counter shared by the family room and the kitchen. She had hugged Bobby earlier in the day – thinking she was crazy when she thought that Bobby's height no longer reached her chin. However, now that Sam had referenced Bobby's short stature, given that Marcia seemed to look younger, she couldn't help but think that Bobby might have gotten shorter.

"Hey, Mom, have you seen my science book?" a voice cut through her head. Carol turned around and saw Jan looking at her from behind her old eyeglasses.

Carol blinked and smiled slightly in confusion. "Jan, you're wearing your glasses again! Do they help any?"

Jan nodded. "They do, actually. I can read just fine now. I'll just wear these until I can get some new contact lenses."

Carol shrugged. "That's fine with me," she said. "And I think that your book's in the family room."

The housewife stared at Bobby in the living room as Jan retrieved her book and walked through the kitchen again. If she hadn't known better, Carol would have swore that Bobby was shorter. Then, a strange realization came to her. She didn't know better. After all, it had been a few months since Bobby was last measured.

Carol kept staring into the family room as she tried to figure out what to do. Any sane, rational person would tell her that Bobby wasn't getting shorter – and that Marcia wasn't looking younger. It all had to be in her imagination. She had to prove that she wasn't crazy, but what was she going to do? Was she just going to walk up to her son and ask to check his height? She didn't want to risk making Bobby feel insecure again.

"Mrs. Brady? Is everything okay?" another female voice cut through Carol's head.

Carol turned around and saw that Alice and Sam were staring with concern at her. The housewife nodded. "I was just looking at Bobby – trying to see if I need to make any alterations on his clothes." Then, a light bulb appeared over her head. Perhaps that was a good enough reason to check Bobby's height.

The housewife retrieved some measuring tape and approached her youngest son, who was grinning at the TV in the family room. Carol glanced at the TV and frowned. "Oh, Bobby, you're not watching that Jesse James movie again, are you?" Bobby formed a sheepish grin. "Hey, can you stand up for a minute? I want to see if we need to make any alterations on your clothes."

Bobby stood up. "Sure, I guess, but my clothes fit fine," he said. "But maybe they are a little baggy now that you mention it."

Carol had Bobby hold down one end of the tape with his foot. She then held the tape taut as she measured her son's height. When she got her measurement, her eyes popped out of her head. Bobby was two inches shorter!