Chapter Eighteen

Without giving them any reason, Tig somehow managed to convince Robbie and the others to give Kyra more time.

“How much more time?” Robbie had asked.

“A month?” Tig had proposed.

But she’d been able to get only a two-week reprieve. The girls were firm. If only they’d known what was going on, Tig felt sure they wouldn’t have been so resolute. But of course, she’d promised Kyra she wouldn’t tell them, so two weeks it was.

Naturally, in those two weeks, Kyra played worse than ever.

Tig went to her mom for advice. “I never should’ve asked Kyra to be in the band in the first place,” she said. “I knew she wouldn’t stick with it. Kyra never sticks with anything.”

“Mixing family and business is a tough one,” said Mrs. Ripley. “Remember that time I paid my cousin Russell to put in our new kitchen cabinets? Aunt Coila was all, ‘Oh, Russell’s so handy and he’ll do an extra good job for you and he really needs the money.’ So against my better judgment, I hired Russell to do the work, and you see what I got.” She opened a cabinet door and closed it, but it didn’t shut all the way. “But what can you do? Can’t sue him. He’s family.”

“But would you hire him again?” Tig asked.

“Not by a long shot,” said her mom.

“So what am I supposed to do? Let Kyra just keep on making cabinets that don’t shut?”

“Oh, sweetie. I wish Kyra would let the other girls know what’s going on.”

“She won’t, though. And she’s sworn me to secrecy. She’s convinced that Uncle Nick and Aunt Laurie are going to work it out.”

Mrs. Ripley shook her head. “The poor child.”

“And I can’t tell Kyra the other girls want her out of the band, because it will hurt her feelings, and she can’t handle any hurt feelings right now. And besides, then I’d be going behind their backs. It’s a no-win situation.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” said Mrs. Ripley.

Well, her mom had no answers. So Tig decided to turn to the one place that always had all the answers.