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As they headed out of the office, the principal regaled Carly with another warning, and although Anita wanted her daughter to learn her lesson, she also felt irked. As soon as they were outside, she asked, “Was it just you and Samantha?”
“No,” Carly said. “Evie too. She got picked up first. It’s not fair, though.”
“What’s not fair? That Evie got picked up first? Or that you were caught raiding the kitchen?”
“No,” Carly said as they neared the car.
When she hesitated, Anita said, “Out with it. You’re going to be grounded anyway, so you might as well tell me everything.”
Carly ducked her head and reached for the door handle. She had to tug hard to get the car door open.
Anita slid into the driver’s side and set her hands on the wheel. “Explain please.”
What came out was a disjointed story, with Carly saying it was a dare, and it was stupid, and she regretted it. She relied on the sincerity of her daughter’s tone, which ended in a few more tears, and she decided that the girl felt guilty enough and didn’t need to be berated more.
“All right, I understand doing something stupid—but please don’t do anything like that again,” Anita said. “You’ll be grounded from those friends for two weeks, and you need to make the phone calls when we get home to figure out how to get those service hours in.”
Carly gave a nod and wiped at her face.
Anita dug out a tissue packet from her purse and handed it over. While Carly dried her tears, she released the brake, then put the car into neutral and turned the key in the ignition. The engine turned over once, then died.
“Great,” she muttered. “Of all places.” She blew out a breath, then tried to start the car again. Nothing. “We need to jump it.”
Carly groaned, but opened her door. She climbed out, then braced her hands, preparing to help push.
Anita climbed out as well. Together, they pushed clear of other cars, then jumped back in when they reached the slope that led to the main road. She popped the clutch, and the car started. “Yes!” she yelled, and both of them smacked the roof of the car.
It was for good luck—but how long would that luck last?
“I think we’re going to be buying a new battery this weekend,” Anita said. “I hope that’s all it is.”
Carly’s tears were gone, and they weren’t stuck in the school parking lot. Anita decided to be grateful for the small things.
AN HOUR LATER, CARLY CAME into the backyard, where Anita had set up a utility table next to the herbal garden. Her latest creation was a commissioned piece from an older lady who’d wanted her late husband’s likeness created out of plant material and leaves. He’d been an avid outdoorsman before his death, and the widow had mailed photos of him, along with his favorite flannel shirt.
“Is that from the dead guy?” Carly asked, recognizing the project.
“Be respectful,” Anita said.
Carly puffed out a breath. “Well, he’s dead, right? What else should I say?”
Was her daughter really going to start with the attitude an hour after her suspension? “His name was Roger Barton, so you can refer to him as Mr. Barton.” Anita set down the bit of rosemary she’d been using to create the effect of hair. She folded her arms. “Well?”
Carly shifted from one foot to the other. She’d combed her hair into a ponytail, and it looked like all the curl had fallen out. Like Anita, she had no natural curl, and it could only be achieved by wearing curlers all night or using their old curling iron that didn’t get very hot anymore. Her daughter usually opted for the curlers.
“I called all of the places,” Carly said, her tone sounding uncertain. “And...”
Anita waited, wanting her to take ownership in this process.
“And...the assisted living place said I could come and play games or read with the old people.”
Anita winced. “Old people? You mean the residents?”
“Whatever.”
She tried not to bristle. “All right. That’s a good idea. When are you going?”
Carly’s eyes widened. “Uh, tomorrow, I guess. But I don’t want to go alone.”
