Page 65 of A Whim and a Prayer

“But it is picked up!” Winnie cried, “it’s neat as a pin!”

“It is, Mama!” Julia confirmed.

Charity paused, a ridge lining her brow. “It is? You actually cleaned it up?”

A gulp wobbled in Winnie’s throat. “It’s clean, I promise.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed a hair as she pinned Julia with a probing look. “Julia Marie—did you clean up Winnie’s room?”

Julia bit her lip. “You told me to clean up, Mama.”

“Your room, young lady, not Winnie’s!”

“But my room was already clean,” Julia explained with an owl blink of eyes, “and Winnie’s wasn’t, so I just wanted to help.”

“That was sweet of you, darling, but I’ve already warned you about doing Winnie’s chores, haven’t I?”

“Only her homework, dishes, and laundry, Mama—you never said anything about not cleaning up her room.”

Charity’s eyelids dropped as she pinched the bridge of her nose while Mitch chuckled. “She’s got you there, sweetheart.”

“Well, then, let me be perfectly clear, Julia Marie. You are to do your own chores only, not Winnie’s, be that homework, dishes, laundry, or any other household work including cleaning your sister’s room, understood?”

“Yes, Mama,” Julia said with a solemn bow of her head.

“And you, Winifred Marie”—she turned to Winnie with a tight smile—“will return the favor to your sister by doing dishes tonight.”

Winnie groaned as she picked up her plate, slipping her sister a stiff smile. “Thanks anyway, Jewels, you’re the best.”

“You are too, Pooh—messy room notwithstanding,” her father said with a wink.

“Thanks, Daddy.” She started stacking plates as she sent her mother a tight smile. “Sorry, Mama, for the mess. I’ll try to keep on top of it.”

“I appreciate that, sweetheart.”

Beck jumped up and started collecting dirty dishes. “I’ll help.”

“No!” Winnie’s eyes expanded. “I mean, you’re company, Beck, so I can handle it.”

“I’m family, Winnie, and I ate, so I insist.”

“No, really—”

Piling dishes, Beck ignored her as he toted them into the kitchen with a crooked smile, thinking that contrary to Winnie’s claim of her mom being a “busybody” and “yenta,” Charity was actually a genius. Because although he hated dishes as much as Winnie did? When it came to his friendship with her, there was no better time to wipe the slate—or plate—clean.

Chapter Forty-Three

“You wash, I’ll dry.” Beck nabbed a dish towel from a hook by the sink, lips compacted in a smile meant for battle as he cocked a hip to the counter.

Winnie’s blue eyes thinned. “You’ve gotten awfully bossy since I’ve seen you last.” She plugged the sink and slapped the faucet on before pelting Ivory flakes into the water and swishing hard.

“And you’ve gotten awfully quiet and if possible, even more stubborn than before.” He watched as she scraped food from the plates into a bowl—although assaulted might be a better word—then dropped them into the dishwater with lips gummed tight.

He vented with a long-winded sigh, no patience for pussyfooting around. “Look, Winnie, you’ve been avoiding me for almost two weeks now, so if you want to end this friendship, just say—”

“No!” She whirled around, eyes expanded in fear and—he paused with a squint—was that a touch of pain? “I don’t want to end our friendship, Beck—I’m just trying to protect it.”

He arched a brow. “By avoiding me?”