Emily, you’ve got to stop staying up so late when you have school the next morning.” Barbara slid the cereal box across the counter at her bleary-eyed daughter.
“I can’t help it,” Emily said in a hoarse, groggy voice. “I can’t get to sleep any earlier.”
“It’s her nature, Mom,” Lance said, chomping on his Cheerios. “She’s a party girl to the bone.”
“Shut up,” Emily muttered. “I wasn’t partying.”
Barbara dug into her purse for lunch money for Lance and laid it on the counter. “I’m just saying, Emily, that you have to fight addictive behaviors like staying up all night when you have school. You have to learn to think ahead, not just do what feels right in the moment.”
“It’s not an addictive behavior, Mom. Everybody I know stays up late. It’s a college thing.”
“And that’s why half the student body drops out before they get a degree.” Barbara glanced at Lance, her sixteen-year-old. “Lance, promise me you’ll eat lunch today.”
He didn’t answer, just pretended to be engrossed in the writing on the cereal box.
“Lance, did you hear me?”
“Yes. But I hate lunch.”
“You hate lunch?” Emily asked. “That’s stupid. You hate gym or math or science. Nobody hates lunch.”
“They do if they have to sit by themselves.”
“I thought your girlfriend sat with you,” Emily said.
“April’s not my girlfriend. At least, not yet.” He brought his milk to his mouth, eyes grinning as he drank. He set the glass down too hard. “She doesn’t always sit with me. Sometimes she skips lunch. Why can’t I just be homeschooled?”
They’d been all through this. “Lance, you’ll make friends,” Barbara said. “Just hang in there.”
“I had plenty of friends in Jeff City.”
They’d moved here in January, after selling their house in Missouri. Lance had been recovering from a serious injury to his lung at the time, and he’d had a hard time fitting in after changing schools midyear. Since he hadn’t bonded with anyone by the time school was out for the summer, he’d had a long, lonely three months. Baseball used to be his pastime during those hot months, and it was a way to make friends, but since his lung capacity wasn’t back to a hundred percent and he didn’t know anyone well, he hadn’t signed up. Barbara regretted not talking him into it. “You were a popular guy back home, and you will be again. And you’ll be stronger for it. You’re learning new skills. Compassion for lonely people, for one. Good things can come of this. Moving here was right for the family.”
“No, it was right for you, so you could be closer to Kent. I get that, and I like him and all. But I miss my friends. I never hated going to school before this. Those jocks treat me like the biggest dork in Georgia. I thought this fall might be better, but nothing has changed since school started back.”
Emily seemed to be coming awake now as she nursed her coffee. “They’re just jealous. Some cute new guy comes in and invades their territory, and the girls take notice.”
“April’s the only girl taking notice, and she treats me like a brother. Trust me, they all think I’m a dork, too. I came to school skinny and sick, and that’s how they’ll keep seeing me.”
“You’re not a dork.” Barbara leaned across the counter, touched Lance’s chin. “Look at me, son.”
He met her eyes.
“You’re a hero. A life-saver. You know who you are. Don’t let them convince you that you’re anything else.”
“Yeah, well, they think I made it all up.”
“It doesn’t matter what they think,” Emily said. “We know what happened.”
Barbara looked down at her son’s chest. His breathing was still more labored than it used to be. She worried about him. Sometimes she considered moving back to Missouri just to make his life easier.
But she could barely make a living in Jefferson City, and Emily had way too many drug triggers there. And yes, she liked living near Kent. They’d grown closer since she’d moved here, and it looked like they might have a future together.
She’d been adrift since her husband died six years ago. Kent had brought joy to her life and a new outlook. He’d also helped her land a job here working as an interior designer for an architectural firm. It was a dream come true — and she was good at it. She was making even more money than she’d made during the best years of having her own business. She had so much debt from Emily’s drug days and the decline in her business, that the extra income was much needed. Her head was above water for the first time in years.
“Can you at least give me a ride to school this morning?” Lance asked Emily. “I hate riding the stupid bus.”
“Can’t,” Emily said. “I’m running late. I have to leave in a few minutes and I won’t have time to take you. Test today.”
“If I had a car my life wouldn’t be so miserable.”
Barbara smiled. “It won’t be that much longer.” He’d worked all summer mowing lawns to earn as much as he could, and she had agreed to match whatever he raised. But that still wouldn’t be enough to pay for a reliable vehicle.
Thankfully, Lance didn’t ask Barbara to take him to school. She had to go in early, too — to get her ducks in a row before her big presentation today. They were bidding on a new sanctuary for Three Roads Baptist Church, one of the largest Baptist churches in Atlanta. The architects depended on her to sell the deacon leadership and church’s senior staff on her colors, finishes, stained glass, and ideas for the architectural details that would make it a glorious place to worship.
In spite of her fatigue from last night, she was ready. If nothing went wrong, they would surely get this account.