She giggled—giggled!—and dug around the pile, plucking out letters quick as lightning.
I grabbed anE, but I still could not spot theL. I risked a quick glance.
Anna hadB,A,C, andK.
Blast, blast,blast!There should be threeL’s. I pushed the letters around, mind scrambling. I found anOand anR, and briefly considered abandoning ship fororange. But then, at last, the—
“Finished!” Anna called, triumphant. She’d found a waywardL, just as I’d plucked out mine.
“It was a tie,” I argued weakly, settling theLinto place. Blue. Four letters to her five, and still I’d lost.
“Hardly.” She tossed her letters back in, then stole mine, mixing them all up and grinning at my frown. “One to zero, my favor.”
“Next category is animal,” I muttered.Dog, cat, lion.A handful came to mind, but the choice would be determined by which letters caught my eye first.
“And, go,” she said, lifting her hands but letting them hover above the letters, just enough to cloud my view.
“Cheater,” I harumphed, reaching under and sliding a handful closer to me.
“You louse!” She collected her letters, while I finishedcat.
“Done!” she called, a breath before I did.
“Bee?” I pointed at her crooked letters. “That’s an insect. The category was animal.”
“Well, I wantedbear, but you stole myA, so—”
“So,Iwin.Cat.One to one.”
She groaned but conceded.
Next, she spelledvicarfor profession, but I beat her by a half second withcook.I’d forgotten how much I loved to see her cheeks so rosy, eyes aflame and aimed toward me.
For our last round—the longest word we could spell—we did not race. One minute, timed by my mother from her spot in the corner.
We worked silently. At one point, I gave up onpneumoniato try for a longer word and pushed all my letters back into the pile. Then brilliance struck.
“Ten seconds,” Mother called.
“Drat, where is theU,” Anna muttered. Luckily, I was almost done.
“Time.”
“Aha!” I called, triumphant. “Hands up, Anna.”
“Happily,” she smirked, and my good humor vanished at the length of her word.
“Unequivocally.” She crossed her arms and leaned back, capturing my eyes. “Thirteen letters. You?”
“Philosophize.” Our stare held. “Twelve.”
“It would appear we are at a stalemate,” she said with a smirk. “We must create a final category to determine the champion.”
Mother stood, closed her book, and took a seat in a nearby chair between us. Her features were tired, and I felt a surge of guilt. She stayed awake for propriety’s sake, not for lack of exhaustion. “Might I suggest a worthy finale?”
Anna’s smile faded, and I wondered if she, too, could see my mother’s weariness. “Please do,” she said.
Mother looked between us, hands clasped in her lap likea doctor diagnosing his patient. “Your next word shall be an adjective. Chosen to describe your opponent.”
