I picked at the dish-towel label.
“And the second race?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Amy gets that part first.”
Gloria studied me. “You used me to practice the opening sentence.”
“Yes.”
“Do not make her pay for the fact that the second one is harder.”
“I won’t.”
Gloria dried her hands. “You told me first.”
“I needed to find the first sentence somewhere I could not lose the person hearing it.”
Her eyes filled. “You cannot lose me.”
“I know that now.”
“Do not use knowing it with me to decide Amy cannot handle the choice.”
“I won’t.”
“Thursday?”
“Thursday.”
Gloria watched me long enough for the escape route to appear.
“I want to move it,” I admitted.
“Until after the challenge?”
From the living room came Amy’s laugh. Money. Certification. Public image. Her, fitting here.
“Yes.”
“Cowardice with a calendar.”
“Yes. Keep Thursday.”
I hated her. I loved her. The same feeling often. “I will.”
From the living room, Lola called, “We found a bone!”
Gloria lowered her voice.
“Dani, you have spent years believing one bad moment makes you untrustworthy. Do not create the betrayal you’re afraid of.”
Her warning stayed with me.
After dessert, Lola fell asleep on the sofa with the fossil brush still in her hand. Amy helped Gloria carry her upstairs. I remained in the living room cleaning green excavation dust from the rug. When Amy returned, she sat beside me on the floor.
“Your niece is intense.”
“Genetic.”
