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“Whew.”
As I tugged off the half-knitted garment, the long circular needles tangled in my hair. “Ow.” I shook my head as I followed her back into the kitchen.
I dropped the coverup on the table where she was scribbling madly in a notebook with one of my Blackwing pencils. I didn’t even bother taking the pricey sketch pencil back when she shoved it in her bag.
She smiled up at me. “I can’t wait to work on this idea. It’s perfect for the end of summer.” She picked up her knitting, noticing my sketchbook. “Oh, are you drawing again?”
I reached for the notebook, but she was too quick.
“Oh. Oh…” She held it against her chest. “It’s so good.” She went back to flipping pages. Then giggled, turning back a few. “Is she a fox or a cat?”
I took the notebook from her. “Fox.”
She frowned, but then her face cleared. The one nice thing about my mother was that you couldn’t out-rude her. She was fairly oblivious. “Well, I’m glad to see you doodling again. It always made you so happy when you were a kid.”
My eyebrow winged up. “You noticed me drawing?”
“Of course. I kept track of all your hobbies.”
Not my homework though. She couldn’t have cared less about that.
“What do you need the money for, Rainbow?”
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” She huffed out a breath. “I want to spend some time with you. But I also have a booth at the Bear Mountain craft fair. Can’t you get away?”
“I have a life here.”
“I know, but it’s just four days. We can make it a girl trip and camp out like the old days. Make some s’mores. You can help me eat some of the peach jam I made. It didn’t sell like I thought it would.”
“I…”
“Is there something keeping you here?”
Was there?
My phone display glowed bright, PMS’s name flashing with a text.
PMS: Where are you? Do you need help in the shower?
I grabbed my phone and held it on my lap under the table. “No. There’s nothing keeping me here. I mean, I have work but I—”
“Then that’s settled. We’ll pack up and have a road trip!” She came around the table and gave me a hug. “I can’t wait. It’s going to be so fun.”
I patted her arm, then glanced down at my phone under the table. “Yeah. Fun.”
“Okay.” She clapped excitedly. “I’ll get some gas.” She twisted the fabric of her skirt. “You know, if I could borrow some money first? I promise I’ll pay you back as soon as I sell some of my yarn.”
I reached for my purse and handed over my credit card—the one with the lowest limit. I wasn’t stupid. “Pick up whatever else you need, and I’ll finish up with work stuff here.”
“And my laundry?”
“Yes, and your laundry.”
“You’re the best.” She rushed forward and kissed me again. “I’ll be back.”
As with most things involved with Hurricane Rainbow, there was a flutter of insanity in her wake. I pulled my laptop in front of me and cracked my knuckles.
To whom it may concern:
