Scrooge, his nephews and Webbigail would come by to visit her once a week, usually on Sunday nights. She found pleasure in seeing them, as they seemed to love seeing her. Kayla popped up just after school and usually stayed until five on weeknights. Getting the gossip made Tegwen feel less left out, though she knew Kayla was withholding information . . . She knew there were rumors going around about herself, very bad rumors. Even Kayla's visits, though, didn't make Tegwen as happy as Fenton Crackshell's visits did.

Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, he came by at six in the evening and stayed until ten, just like clockwork. It was the one thing Tegwen felt she could depend on.

Eating had become excessively difficult for Tegwen without the use of her dominant hand, and after a while, she viewed meals as more of a nuisance than a pleasurable experience. She ate only because she would starve, otherwise. At least, that's the way it was before Fenton offered to help her eat.

As Tegwen gazed up at Fenton with wide eyes the first time he helped feed her, she noticed how his manual dexterity deteriorated quite rapidly. Tegwen had a good laugh trying to catch the spoon full of soup as it wobbled along with Fenton's hand. After a while, though, Tegwen got tired of having to chase the spoon around. She grabbed his hand quickly with her good arm and helped him aim for her bill.

"Now, was that so hard?" Tegwen smiled, slowly releasing his hand.

"I . . . think . . . I'm going . . . to sit down . . . now . . ." Fenton sputtered, sitting down quickly in a seat at the dining room table.

Tegwen blushed, glancing down at her cast shyly. Geez, the way he's acting . . . It's like I'm casting a spell over him . . . Hey. that's not a half-bad idea! Not like it'd work. "Well, now, if you could just hold the spoon steady," Tegwen giggled uncomfortably, "feeding me might be easier for the both of us!"

"Maybe we can work on it?" Fenton replied quietly, reaching for the bowl of soup again.

Tegwen nodded. "I'd prefer not to starve, so . . . Yeah. But just don't poke me in the eye with that, okay?" She regarded the spoon warily.

Fenton's hand seemed to be steadier than it was with the first spoonful. "I won't. I promise."