License to Shop
quite
capable of counting out her change five times “to make sure.” Like
I said, I’ve seen my mother play that game. I don’t know if her
grocery clerks know she always has an emergency hundred dollar
bill, in addition to four twenties for normal expenses. But if they
do, they don’t let on.
    Finally, the clerk was
back with the honey, Granny checked out, and it was my turn. Good.
I checked the time. Anna wouldn’t have to worry that I’d forgotten
to pick her up. I might not be first on the pick-up line, but I
wouldn’t be last, either.
    The cupcake pricetag/seal
caught and ripped right over the bar code. There was no beep and
there never was going to be from that one. I repressed a sigh as
the clerk smoothed out the label and squinted to read the bar code
numbers as he manually entered them as slowly as if he were
entering the code to get into Fort Knox for the gold and if he did
it wrong, he’d not only not get the gold, but get blown
up.
    At last, I was free to go.
The school wasn’t far from the grocery store. I crossed my fingers
that my mother would be waiting by the car, and I wouldn’t have to
go searching for her. She was.
    “ I hope you don’t mind.
That butcher didn’t trim the fat as closely as he should have. I
didn’t want fatty meat to ruin your dinner party.”
    “ Thanks, Mom. We need to
hurry, though. Anna worries if I’m late to pick her up.”
    “ You should plan your
schedule better, Molly. Then she wouldn’t have to
worry.”
    “ The school is close,” I
said, ignoring her criticism.
    Normally, I’m not fond of
the proximity because it is all-to-easy to stop in the morning or
the afternoon to pick up things we’d probably all be better off
without. Why is it that picking up milk always involves a renegade
bag of chocolate chip cookies?
    “ We’ll be home as soon as
we stop by school. The kids will be so glad to see you.”
    “ Children, Molly. You did
not give birth to goats.”
    “ Could have fooled me,” I
said cheerfully.

 
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER TEN
    My Mother the Minor Celebrity
     
    It is an
odd thing to see your mother standing before an adoring crowd. Even
odder when your own children, your friends, PTA compatriots, and
neighbors are there, part of said adoring crowd.
    I realized I didn’t always
give my mom credit where credit was due. Probably more than she
gave me, but still. She was pretty amazing.
    She had set up a stack of
Hands-On Homemaker books in an attractive design, had directed Ryan
and Anna in unpacking the mugs and napkin rings she always brought
with her to sell, or randomly gift to an especially rabid
fan.
    They were her willing
minions, and I tried to figure out exactly how she got them to do
what she told them, after only telling them once.
    I was surprised, but
pleased, to see Deirdre. I had warned her about my hair, so she
didn’t even flicker an eyelid when she looked at me. I supposed a
heart surgeon was used to seeing some gruesome sights, so my hair
was not all that bad in the big scheme of things.
    I was not quite as pleased
when Deirdre was followed in by Henriette Stubbs.
    “ Dr. Stubbs, I didn’t know
you were a fan of Ariadne Dobbs.”
    “ Why should you?” she
asked bluntly. “Dear heaven, what have you done to your
hair.”
    “ A beauty shop mishap,” I
quipped lightly, with as much of a smile as I could manage. “I’ll
be getting it fixed next week.”
    “ I can’t believe they let
you walk out of the shop with it looking like that.”
    I couldn’t resist, “They
didn’t. It was much worse when I walked out of there. But a few
friends helped me make it slightly less awful.”
    “ I see,” she said in a
tone that indicated she clearly did not. “You also read Ariadne
Dobbs?”
    “ She’s my mother.” I said
it as casually as I could while also hoping it would ensure that I
would be hired as the new Admissions Counselor.
    She did look impressed,
but then the library director tapped on the mic and told

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