CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Fee

Monday

 

Late Monday afternoon, Fee woke disoriented and sat with a tug to her shoulders. After serving breakfast, she’d collapsed onto her bed still wearing the same clothes the Monroe twins had squirted ketchup on the day before. Her phone alerted her to three new messages from Cass. They hadn’t communicated since Fee had texted her from the emergency room with news of Booboo’s fall—before the words brain tumor had dropped from the sky like bug-eyed aliens.

Booboo’s fall. Booboo’s tumor. Symptoms going unnoticed. Fee remembered the phone conversation with Marjory’s mom. How conveniently Fee had accepted Booboo’s confusion with complicity—a deal of sorts. What if Fee had told someone Booboo was acting funny? Would those few days have made a difference? The doctor said the tumor was fast growing.

Two of Cass’s texts had the same “Howz Booboo” message. The third, “The A-team baby,” lifted the corners of Fee’s mouth, though only briefly. So the roster had been posted on the club’s Web site. With everything going on, Fee had completely forgotten about tryouts and even all the business with Marjory. Nothing like stepping on a land mine to take your mind off the pebble in your shoe.

Fee’s thumbs quickly typed a reply to Cass. “Booboo not good. Momz at hospital. Good newz about team.”

Fee walked down the hall, taking note of Aunt Jocelyn’s closed bedroom door. Must be nice, she thought, to have a get-out-of-jail-free card on all the morning’s work—especially following an all-nighter at the hospital. And for someone who boasted an ability to read people’s emotional auras, Jocelyn sure missed the maintenance-required light that Ruby had been flashing. The dead-lady party had practically buzzed with gossip. Shouldn’t Jocelyn have picked that up like some barcode scanner? Furthermore, what was the story with Jocelyn and Keith? Why wouldn’t she talk about it at the hospital? What about their special relationship? The way Jocelyn confided things in Fee that she didn’t in anyone else, like grumbling about not getting her patch of suburban grass. No way would anyone share that kind of regret with the kid they gave up. Still, the whole thing was whacked. And Fee really wished someone would make like a piñata and spill already.