Chapter Nineteen

 

Thursday, December 5th, 6:00 a.m.

 

The second round of the food drive started at school today with a morning assembly. I showered and dressed in my cheer uniform, the short skirt, and sweater. I braided my hair, winding blue and gold ribbons through the long coil that confined my waist-length mane. Make-up and I was ready to go. I still had fifteen minutes before Jack arrived. Time for a quick cup of coffee and a muffin. I found Mom in the kitchen. “Thanks for putting the kids to bed last night. I was wiped.”

She heaved a sigh, all martyr in her flowered blue bathrobe. “I’m not a dragon, Vicky.”

“I never said you were.”

“Your boyfriend really thinks I am. I thought you two were calling it quits.”

“We talked about it last May when you and Rick started in on us. I can’t see why we should break up when we’re happy together.” I poured a half cup of caffeine. I opened the fridge and took a muffin out of the package in the veggie drawer where I kept them hidden from the kids. “The only people who aren’t thrilled with us being a couple are you and Rick. And it’s not because you think Jack is bad for me. It’s because he interferes with my Cinderella duties, and he’s too honest to suit either one of you. When he sees something wrong, he says so.”

Another long-suffering sigh. “I didn’t know you were afraid to be home by yourself.”

“And you don’t really care.” I wrapped a paper towel around my blueberry muffin, put it on the counter, and went after my backpack in the family room. “You’re just pissed because Jack stayed with me. You’re right. I should have had him take me to Tom’s. I could have hung out there for a few hours until everyone got home, and Tom would have brought me here.”

“Who is Tom?”

“Student body prez.” I unzipped the top of my back-pack and pulled out the grant application. “He can drive. None of my friends have their licenses yet. They’re doing Drivers’ Ed this semester, all except me and Robin. We’re signing up for it in the spring.”

“How do you plan to pay for it?” Mom poured her own coffee. “I told you that we don’t have money for extras.”

“By then, I’ll have earned enough at Shamrock Stable,” I said. “Rocky’s paying me for my hours now that I’m caught up on my internship, plus I get a bonus for each horse I train.”

“I won’t have you hurt.”

I nearly told her that I knew she wasn’t worried about anything but losing the nanny, housekeeper, and cook. She didn’t actually care about me. She’d stopped loving me years ago. Did she think I was stupid? I’d figured it out when we stopped celebrating my birthday and when there never were presents under the Christmas tree for me except for the ones from my friends. I kept my teenage snarky mouth shut. I just flipped through the pages to the one that needed signatures and handed her the application. “I need you to sign this so I can get a grant to stay at Lincoln High.”

“I already told you that there isn’t any money for tuition. We can’t pay back a loan.”

“It’s not a loan. It’s a grant. The school arranges for someone to pay for me to stay enrolled.”

“Why would they do that? There’s a catch, Vicky. There’s bound to be.”

“They like me. They want me around.”

“Of course they do.” Sarcasm dripped from the words. Mom read the last paragraph. “Are you trying to embarrass me? This says you need a grant because we can’t afford the school. They want copies of my income tax. I’m not providing that information.”

“For once, could you just think about what’s best for me?” I planted my fists on my hips. “It’s Lincoln High. When I graduate, I’ll be ready for college, and they have a hundred percent acceptance rate. All of the seniors are admitted to the universities they want to attend.”

“Who says you’re going to college?” Mom tore the application in half then ripped the papers into quarters. She tossed the pieces in the garbage can under the sink. “If I can’t pay tuition now, how do you expect me to pay for college?”

I backed a step, stunned. It was as if she’d thrown me in the trash along with my dreams. “You hate me. You really do.”

“Oh, Vicky, get over yourself. This may come as a surprise, but the world doesn’t turn around you and your whims. Save the teen angst for somebody else.”

A tear streaked down my cheek. I blinked hard, determined not to cry in front of her. I went into the pantry and snagged the last two cans of beets. I returned to the kitchen and grabbed my backpack. “I am so out of here.”

“Don’t you want this muffin?” Mom called after me.

“No,” I yelled back. “You can eat it, shove it, or toss it.”

I slammed the door behind me, hoping it’d wake up the kids and ruin her day. Probably not. The five of them could sleep through an earthquake, and they’d barely make school today. Did I care? No!

Jack pulled up just as I reached the end of the driveway. Slinging my backpack onto the floor, I followed it inside the cab. I slid across the bench seat and into his arms.

He hugged me tight. “What’s wrong? What did she do to you?”

I buried my face against his shirt and cried. “She hates me. She really does.”

“Only when you inconvenience her, baby. If she really hated you, she wouldn’t trust you with her kids or the house.”

“She trashed my grant app. She wants me out of Lincoln High.”

“That’s no surprise. She’s been trying to get you out since school started. Now, how are you going to deal with it?”

A good question, I thought. He held me for a few more minutes and then I slipped away. “I’m okay now. When I get to school, I’ll go see Mr. Baxter. I’ll get another copy of the application and do it again.”

“I’ll bet he has it on his hard drive. Have him email it to you and then you can save it in your computer file in the lab. It won’t matter how many copies she throws away.”

“Wow, you’re smart.”

“That’s why you love me.” Jack winked at me. “One more suggestion. You should contact your counselor and see if she can have one of the parents pick up the kids. The forecaster was talking snow when I left this morning.”

* * * *

Thursday, December 5th, 3:00 p.m.

 

We’d just finished rehearsing a dance routine when Ms. Walker waved to me. “Vicky, don’t you have to go pick up the kids today? Aren’t you seeing your…?”

She stopped, and I knew she didn’t want to embarrass me in front of the squad. “Hey, guys. I see a therapist every week.”

“We know that,” Evie said, obviously impatient with what she considered inconsequential matters. “It’s part of the divorce crap everybody goes through. We need to nail this sequence. Now, are we rehearsing for Saturday or not?”

I grinned at her. “Rehearsing. I contacted Ingrid and explained that it wasn’t good for me to walk the kids through the freezing rain. They’ll catch cold, and I can’t miss school to take care of them.”

“A doctor’s note,” Ms. Walker said. “From now on, I want a doctor’s note from you, Vicky, if you tell me that you’re ill. Part of being a parent is taking care of your kids when they’re sick, and yours should realize it.”

“They’ll just leave them home alone like they did me when I was that age,” I said. “It’s not happening.” I met her stern gaze. “I’m not doing that to the brat squad, Coach.”

“I should have known you wouldn’t.” She patted my shoulder. “You’re a good person, Vicky. All right, ladies. Break’s over. Let’s get back to work. We want to win this Saturday.”

An hour later when practice ended, I headed for the parking lot to meet Jack. The steel gray sky looked ominous. It wasn’t raining anymore. Tiny white flakes swirled around me as I walked toward the pickup. Oh, crap. Here came Jack’s snow. And it was the kind that stuck to everything. If we got an inch or more, this side of Washington State would totally shut down.

“I have a life here.” I yelled at the sky. “Will you just knock it off? Pick on someone else for a while.”

I heard laughter, and when I turned toward the entry, Adam waved at me. “Let me know if that works, Vicky. You may have to teach all of us how to do an ‘end the snow’ dance.”

“Bite me!”

“Just let me know when and where!”

Laughing, I climbed into the pickup and leaned over to kiss Jack. “You can stop this stuff anytime, you know. How am I going to get everything done if it keeps snowing?”

“I have no idea.” He hugged me for an instant. “Guess I could try to borrow my mom’s car. It has four-wheel drive.”

“Let’s wait and see.” I snuggled next to him. “It could stop.”

“Okay. If it does, do you want to take the kids and go get a tree Sunday night?”

“Definitely!”

Ten minutes later, I found the kids having a snack, five little blond stair-steps in the waiting room when I walked into Ingrid’s office. Chrissy waved at me from her stroller, crackers spread out on the plastic tray. “Hi there.” I smiled at the older ones. “How was your day?”

“Daddy’s mad at you,” Cathy said. “He says getting us is your job. Don’t you love us anymore, Vicky?”

“Sweetie, of course I love you.” I went to the table and snitched one of her animal crackers. I wouldn’t tell the kid what I honestly thought of her jerk father. “That’s why I wanted Ingrid to send someone with a car for you. I love you too much to let you get cold and wet.”

“Told you.” Lance grinned at me, then went back and sucked more juice from the box in his hand. “Mama Vicky will always love us.”

“Are we okay, Cathy?” I gently tugged one of her pigtails, then took a gold ribbon from my braid and tied it around her hair. “Love you lots. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Okay.” She beamed at me, all right in her nine-year-old world. “Will you do the other one too, Vicky?”

“Yes, but you have to give the ribbons back when we get home. I need them for Saturday’s competition.”

“I wish we could come watch you cheer.” Linda’s lower lip drooped. “Daddy won’t bring us. He says it’s too much hassle.”

“I’ll try and work it out before the season ends.” I dropped to my knees between her and Cathy. I helped myself to another cracker. Then, I worked more ribbons into the girls’ hair.

When they finished their snacks, Kevin went for the photocopied pictures and cups of crayons that waited on the counter. He made a face when he came back. “Only princesses and unicorns this week.”

“Fun,” I said. “No letting your unicorn lead an army into war, bro.”

He brightened, mischief filling his face and blue eyes. “I never thought of unicorns fighting.”

“How do you think they use those horns?” I asked.

“For stabbing bad guys.” Lance grabbed the red crayon. “Mine just got back from a fight. It’s why his horn is all bloody.”

“You’re gross,” Linda told him, but her twin just grinned.

Kevin and I were fighting over the crayons when the phone buzzed a few minutes later. The receptionist interrupted the war between black and purple on his picture. “Vicky, you need to go back to the conference room. Ingrid wants to talk to you.”

“Okay, but don’t think this is over,” I told Kevin. “That unicorn is going to be pink and purple, not evil black and red.”

“Yeah, right.” He tried to snicker and sounded more little boy than demonic. “If you’re not here, he’s a zombie unicorn, and he kicks butt.”

“Not for long,” I said, grabbing my backpack. “When I get back, he’s picking flowers for the girl unicorns in his herd.”

“Oooh, gross.” Lance moved over by Kevin. “Here, I’ll help you. These are tough unicorns, not wussy ones. Let’s make a couple of camo ones.”

“Thanks,” the receptionist whispered when I went by her desk. “I didn’t know I was out of truck and motorcycle pictures.”

“It’s all in the presentation,” I said, just as softly.