right?”
“Yes, but I’m going to have to find a new carrier to cover
me for the drive home.” Kate sighed. “I picked a hell of a time to quit my job.”
Someone clapped twice, and the light flickered on.
Kate shielded her eyes.
“What do you mean you quit your job?” Deborah’s voice squeaked
like pieces of Styrofoam rubbing together.
Kate winced and slid down her pillow. Damn it. She’d been so
focused on reliving the day’s events that she hadn’t heard the sound of the
bedroom door opening.
Deborah marched over to the couch, hands planted on her
hips, and glared down at Kate. “Quitting is not part of the ten-year plan we
put together.”
“You mean the plan you put together,” Claire said dryly.
“Don’t you start with me.” Deborah pointed a well-manicured
fingernail at Claire. “You’re still in the dog house.”
“What did I do?” Claire rose from her seat on the table.
“It’s not what you did, but what you haven’t done yet.”
“Huh?”
“Neither of you realize how important it is to be able to
take care of yourself.”
Sitting up, Kate frowned up at her mom. “What are you
talking about? We’ve been taking care of ourselves for years.”
Deborah sneered down at her. “You call jumping from man to
man or job to job taking care of yourself?”
Kate pressed back into the cushions as her mom loomed over
her. “Maybe.” She shot a help-me glance at Claire.
“Well, it’s not. Each of you needs to find a nice man with a
good-sized house, a hefty bank account, and a retirement plan that doesn’t
involve winning the lotto.”
Claire closed the distance between them. “Mom—”
“You’ve both had plenty of time to get your act together and
line up your ducks.” Deborah’s nostrils were flared, her cheeks rosy. All she
needed was a pulpit. “But neither of you have paid attention to one word of
advice I’ve given. I can see now that the only way you two are going to have secure
futures is with my guidance.”
With a groan, Kate buried her face in a couch cushion. The
last time she’d seen that determined glint in her mother’s eyes, Kate had ended
up in grad school chasing a degree she wasn’t sure she wanted.
“Listen, Moth—” Claire started again, her tone strong.
“And I’m going to start with you.” Deborah whirled on
Claire. “First, we need to find you a nice dress, a pretty sunhat, and a decent
pair of sandals. Then we’ll get to work on doing something with that hair of
yours.”
* * *
Saturday, August 14th
“Morning, darlin’,” Ruby said to Mac as he sat down at the
kitchen table. She stood barefoot at the stove in a yellow checkered blouse and
faded blue jeans, a spatula in one hand and an oven mitt on the other, her
smile welcoming. Eggs spit and sputtered in the frying pan in front of her.
“You hungry?” she asked.
“Definitely.” The smell of freshly cooked bacon filled the
house. He’d woken up chewing on his pillow.
The dinner plate-sized thermometer nailed to one of the
clothesline posts outside the window showed eighty-seven degrees already—a good
day to play around in a big wormhole in the ground. Ruby’s new air conditioner
chugged away in the next room, keeping this part of the house cool.
“Thanks,” Mac said as Ruby handed him a plate of fried eggs,
buttered toast, and crispy bacon. Taking the chair opposite him, she plunked
down two mugs of coffee.
“Where are Harley and Jess?” He splashed some Tabasco sauce
on his eggs. Besides the rattling of dishes in the sink, he hadn’t heard a peep
in the house this morning.
“Harley drove Chester to Yuccaville for parts to fix Chester’s
generator.” Ruby paused to sip her coffee. “Jess is still sleeping; at least
she was when I looked in on her a bit ago. She didn’t get home from babysittin’
last night until two.”
Good, both were out of the picture. Mac had spent half the
night missing Claire’s soft curves and sleepy murmurs, even though he was
“Yes, but I’m going to have to find a new carrier to cover
me for the drive home.” Kate sighed. “I picked a hell of a time to quit my job.”
Someone clapped twice, and the light flickered on.
Kate shielded her eyes.
“What do you mean you quit your job?” Deborah’s voice squeaked
like pieces of Styrofoam rubbing together.
Kate winced and slid down her pillow. Damn it. She’d been so
focused on reliving the day’s events that she hadn’t heard the sound of the
bedroom door opening.
Deborah marched over to the couch, hands planted on her
hips, and glared down at Kate. “Quitting is not part of the ten-year plan we
put together.”
“You mean the plan you put together,” Claire said dryly.
“Don’t you start with me.” Deborah pointed a well-manicured
fingernail at Claire. “You’re still in the dog house.”
“What did I do?” Claire rose from her seat on the table.
“It’s not what you did, but what you haven’t done yet.”
“Huh?”
“Neither of you realize how important it is to be able to
take care of yourself.”
Sitting up, Kate frowned up at her mom. “What are you
talking about? We’ve been taking care of ourselves for years.”
Deborah sneered down at her. “You call jumping from man to
man or job to job taking care of yourself?”
Kate pressed back into the cushions as her mom loomed over
her. “Maybe.” She shot a help-me glance at Claire.
“Well, it’s not. Each of you needs to find a nice man with a
good-sized house, a hefty bank account, and a retirement plan that doesn’t
involve winning the lotto.”
Claire closed the distance between them. “Mom—”
“You’ve both had plenty of time to get your act together and
line up your ducks.” Deborah’s nostrils were flared, her cheeks rosy. All she
needed was a pulpit. “But neither of you have paid attention to one word of
advice I’ve given. I can see now that the only way you two are going to have secure
futures is with my guidance.”
With a groan, Kate buried her face in a couch cushion. The
last time she’d seen that determined glint in her mother’s eyes, Kate had ended
up in grad school chasing a degree she wasn’t sure she wanted.
“Listen, Moth—” Claire started again, her tone strong.
“And I’m going to start with you.” Deborah whirled on
Claire. “First, we need to find you a nice dress, a pretty sunhat, and a decent
pair of sandals. Then we’ll get to work on doing something with that hair of
yours.”
* * *
Saturday, August 14th
“Morning, darlin’,” Ruby said to Mac as he sat down at the
kitchen table. She stood barefoot at the stove in a yellow checkered blouse and
faded blue jeans, a spatula in one hand and an oven mitt on the other, her
smile welcoming. Eggs spit and sputtered in the frying pan in front of her.
“You hungry?” she asked.
“Definitely.” The smell of freshly cooked bacon filled the
house. He’d woken up chewing on his pillow.
The dinner plate-sized thermometer nailed to one of the
clothesline posts outside the window showed eighty-seven degrees already—a good
day to play around in a big wormhole in the ground. Ruby’s new air conditioner
chugged away in the next room, keeping this part of the house cool.
“Thanks,” Mac said as Ruby handed him a plate of fried eggs,
buttered toast, and crispy bacon. Taking the chair opposite him, she plunked
down two mugs of coffee.
“Where are Harley and Jess?” He splashed some Tabasco sauce
on his eggs. Besides the rattling of dishes in the sink, he hadn’t heard a peep
in the house this morning.
“Harley drove Chester to Yuccaville for parts to fix Chester’s
generator.” Ruby paused to sip her coffee. “Jess is still sleeping; at least
she was when I looked in on her a bit ago. She didn’t get home from babysittin’
last night until two.”
Good, both were out of the picture. Mac had spent half the
night missing Claire’s soft curves and sleepy murmurs, even though he was
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