Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Tuesday, December 10th, 9:00 a.m.

 

A lot of the snow had melted off in the past two days, but we still had a foot of the white stuff in most of Marysville. However, school was back in session with a two-hour late start. When I walked into the Commons, I spotted Robin at our usual table. I went and joined her, taking my peppermint latte from her. “That was majorly fun yesterday.”

“I didn’t know your mom could be so nice.” Robin reached down for her backpack. “Now I feel awful about what my parents did.”

“What did they do?” I asked.

“My dad printed off a list of the rules for our house so you’d know what you have to contend with if you decide to come live with us.”

“That was decent of him.” I took the pages she held out and stuffed them in my bag. “I can discuss them with Ingrid at our meeting today.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Everybody has rules. My mom’s would probably make you nuts.”

“Good point.” Robin smiled when a petite blonde came over to join us. “Hey, Dani. How was your weekend? We missed you at the horsy poop-fest on Sunday.”

“Yeah, well it took us forever to get home from one of my dad’s business trips,” Dani said. “We flew out before the storm and then when we got back yesterday, I think we spent three hours driving back from Seattle. How’s Lady?”

“She’s fine,” Robin said. “I groomed her and fed her tons of carrots when I took care of Prince Charming. He wasn’t happy about sharing the treats, but I told him to get over himself.”

Dani laughed and pulled up a chair. “I heard I missed your sleepover, Vicky. Do I get to come to the next one?”

“Definitely,” I said. “And we won’t wait for a snow event either.”

Robin pulled out her phone and brought up pictures. “Wait until you see the awesome Christmas tree that Vicky’s mom designed. It’s totally eco-friendly. We got to take cookies off it.”

“That’s amazing.” Dani told me. “Now, I really need an invite. So, did your mom rent the downstairs apartment yet?”

“No. Darby was supposed to have a friend take it, but when she saw how many kids live in the house, she freaked and said she’d find somewhere else.” I lowered my voice, even though it was just the three of us. “Mom was upset. She got laid off at the casino, and she was really counting on the rent to help make ends meet.”

“Like I told you before, my au-pair always has friends looking for decent places to live,” Dani said. “They’re studying to be elementary teachers, so there’s not much that your brothers and sisters could do to send them packing.”

“Hey, the kids were really good. Kevin even called a cease-fire on the snowball wars when she arrived, and nobody hit her car with a single shot. Since you’re talking a bunch of five to ten-year-olds, I was happy.”

“So was Darby,” Robin said. “She actually told the woman to get over herself and grow a brain when she freaked about us making popcorn balls.”

“Yeah, can you imagine how crazy it would have been if I’d actually had the eight girls my mom said I could invite? That would have been a major meltdown.”

“Eight girls?” Dani looked impressed. “Plus your brothers and sisters. Your mom must be trying out to be a hero.”

“No, she’s just taking over the house and changing things since she doesn’t have to do what my stepdad says anymore.” The first bell rang. I swallowed the last of my latte and got up, grabbing my backpack. “So, will you tell your au-pair to pass out the word about the apartment? It’s six hundred a month without babysitting and four hundred if the person wants to work out part of the rent.”

“That’s too cheap.” Dani walked beside us toward the English wing. “Let’s say it’s six and eight. You’re talking a one bedroom apartment and covered parking under the carport, right?”

“Right,” I said. “My mom will be checking references too.”

“No worries. To even be considered for a spot in the graduate program at the college, the students have to pass all the requirements that regular teachers do,” Dani said. “This is going to work out great, and it will get my au-pair off my back. She’s been nagging me to ask you.”

“Well, you did, and we’re all going to be happy ever after,” Robin told us.

I laughed at them. We may have been happy, but Adam didn’t look like he was. He and Mrs. Weaver stood up by her desk having a serious chat. Whatever she was telling him made his scowl deeper. When she paused for breath, he turned and stomped out of the classroom.

She sighed and then came over to me. “How are things at home, Vicky?”

“Getting better,” I said. “Why?”

“Because it’s your turn to be featured in the school paper,” Mrs. Weaver told me. “It’s a puff piece. Whoever interviews you will ask about hobbies, college plans and sports.”

“Why Vicky?” Robin asked. “Why now?”

“It’s her turn,” Mrs. Weaver repeated. “We’ve done most of the student council and now we’re onto the Lincoln High class presidents. Do you have pictures of the horse that you’re training for your core project, Vicky?”

“Several. I’ll bring you the best shots tomorrow,” I said. “Is Adam concerned about the feature?”

“He may be editor this year, but I’m the advisor so he’ll do it the way I say,” Mrs. Weaver said. “It’s my way or the highway. Now, let’s get onto today’s write.”

I glanced at the blank whiteboard and then said, “Is it a free-write? Do we get to pick what we want to say?”

Faint red crept into the teacher’s face and then she nodded. “Yes. That’s what I had in mind. You’d better go write it down for me, Vicky, in case other people decide it’s a holiday.”

“All right!” I put my backpack by my desk and headed up front to sort through the various dry-erase markers, so I could design the board just the way I liked.

* * * *

Tuesday, December 10th, 4:00 p.m.

 

Latte in hand, I curled up in my favorite chair, ready to share my week with Ingrid. It didn’t take long to tell her about the days at home, the sleepover and how peaceful it was without Mom griping about Rick. “I learned stuff I didn’t know.”

“Like what?” Ingrid asked. “I’m sure she shared that she was a foster kid.”

“Well, sure. But, she never told me that she always felt like she had to please him to make him love her. Or how scared she was of being abandoned. Or getting kicked out. He totally used that stuff against her.”

“Didn’t he use it against you too?” Ingrid asked. “How does learning about the shortcomings in your mother make you feel?”

I sighed and stirred my coffee with the straws. “Well, on the one hand I do feel sorry for her. But, then I also want to yell at her and remind her that I’m a kid. I shouldn’t have to help raise her and make the world right. She ought to be doing that for me.”

“Do you think it’s likely to happen?”

“Not overnight,” I said, “but she’s trying harder to be a better mom. She told me that she’s not going to call and remind Rick to pick up the kids anymore. I didn’t know that she was. What’s up with the guy? How can he reject his own children like that?”

“Think about what you said earlier. What if he wants your mom to do certain things? If he just avoids your brothers and sisters, what is her pattern? Didn’t he reject you?”

“Yeah. He said it was for the money, but I don’t actually believe that anymore.” I sucked up some of my latte. “Am I paranoid if I figure he’s still trying to get at Mom?”

“Not to me,” Ingrid said. “It sounds pretty smart.”

“Well, that’s me then.”

“And with that settled, let’s move on.” Ingrid picked up a file folder. “I have a list of household rules from John and Maura Gibson. Shall we discuss those?”

“I got them too.” I put my cup on the table beside my chair and dug out the five pages that Robin gave me this morning. “They’re a fun pair, but I’m not taking up running cross-country to find time to breathe.”

“How would you have time?” Ingrid asked. “You’re already cheerleading and involved in student government, the honor roll, and horseback riding. They do want you to take karate and they’re willing to pay for classes.”

“Why would I do that?”

“They seem to think that all girls need to know how to defend themselves.”

“Robin doesn’t do karate,” I said.

“Not now, but I understand that she and her sister both took it for three years when they were in middle school. Both of them have their black belts.”

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Oh my Gawd! I hate it when you’re right. I’d forgotten all about that. Okay, let’s get started.”

I scanned the first page. It basically laid out all our names, the address of the Gibson house, phone numbers, and the date. After that, the contract detailed responsibilities in the house. Most had to do with the chores that everyone else did. If I moved in, I was supposed to help with the supper dishes two nights a week, cook one meal a week, take out the garbage, and help feed the dogs every night. If I helped with the livestock down in the barns, I’d have to split the chore money with Jack and Robin.

“Whoa, did you see this, Ingrid? They pay for grades. I can clean up since I’m already on the Headmaster’s List. Fifty bucks for each A, plus there are bonuses for extracurricular activities.”

“What do you think about the allowance?” Ingrid asked.

“Well, it explains how Robin always brings me a latte every day,” I said. “She has some major opportunities to make money.”

Ingrid laughed, and I went onto the next page. It detailed other things I had to do, such as keeping my bedroom and the bathroom clean. I had to do my own laundry. Robin would change the sheets on my bed once a week, but if I wanted it done more often, that was my responsibility. No sleepovers during the week, unless it was a school break. No dates on weeknights, and Sundays counted as those. Fridays and Saturdays, I had to be home no later than midnight. John and Maura had to approve of whoever I dated. And Jack’s room was definitely off-limits!

“No drugs, alcohol, or wild parties,” Ingrid read, arching a brow. “What do you think?”

“That you’d have to be crazy to even try that crap,” I said. “John and Maura are total helicopter parents. One of them is always around, so how could you arrange a party?”

“What would your mother say about these rules?”

I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t think she would even include them in her repertoire. First off, the household chores are all mine. If I only did the dishes twice a week, I’d have to buy a truckload of paper plates and plastic silverware. And if I only cooked one day, everyone would starve.”

“What about the garbage?”

“Oh, I make Kevin take that out. Cathy always snivels when she has to help him, so she gets to do all the recycling. The twins have gotten pretty good at unloading the dishwasher.”

“What else do you notice?”

“They must buy the groceries,” I said. “That’s not included anywhere in the rules.”

“What about the bills? Does it say anything about money management or their finances?”

I went back through the five pages, reading it line by line. She was right. It didn’t say a thing about the mortgage or turning off all the lights in empty rooms to save electricity or not calling long distance on the landline. “Wow, more stuff that kids don’t need to worry their little heads about, huh?”

“How do you feel about not being in charge of all the details, Vicky?”

I had to think about it. Okay, so my mom did drop a lot on my shoulders, but being out of the loop bothered me too. “Can’t there be a happy medium, Ingrid? I like knowing what’s going on around the house and having my mom talk to me like I’m an equal. She let me have a pretty big sleepover on Sunday night. Five other girls and she said I could build up to eight guests. It was a blast.”

“Who cleaned up afterwards?”

“I did, of course. It was my party.” I went back and read the fine print in the rules. “Well, no wonder Maura limits the number of guests to four. She does the clean-up afterwards. That sucks. Next time I stay over, I’ve got to do more. It’s only fair.”

We talked our way through all the rules. Ingrid didn’t say that I actually had a pretty good deal at my mom’s. Okay, it had its downside, but it also had some major points too. Maybe I didn’t have any pets, but we were rid of Rick and things would continue to change for the better. I knew it.

Tom drove me home after the group meeting. I’d shared the story of my sleepover, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when he brought it up. I still was. “So, what’s the big deal about a slumber party?”

“I don’t care about that.” He shrugged one shoulder, keeping most of his attention on the road. “Next time you’re sending up a crew to Shamrock Stable, call me. I’ll go.”

“I didn’t think you knew anything about horses or even liked them.”

“I don’t know if I like them or not,” Tom said. “I haven’t been formally introduced, but I can still shovel out stalls if it means Sierra gets a break.”

“Really?” I eyed him when he parked his car in front of my house. “She couldn’t make it to group tonight because her mom hates driving downhill in the snow. I think you better come ride with me on Sunday.”

“And how is Jack going to feel about that?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “I’ll tell him tomorrow. If you want Sierra to notice you, then you’ve got to learn to ride. And you can’t do it on Jack’s horse. Nitro only has two speeds, fast and faster.”

“I thought if you pulled back on the reins, the horse stopped.”

“Not Nitro. He’s a former racehorse. If you go for contact, he adds on the speed. No, you want a horse with a brain, so I’ll teach you to ride. Bring lots of long, skinny carrots on Sunday.”