Sometimes I wish my mom wasn’t a cop. I don’t know why I try to sneak stuff by her. It never works.
“My backpack? I don’t know what — ”
“There’s my family! I was getting worried.” Thankfully, Dad interrupted me just as I was getting ready to really stretch the truth and probably get grounded. He was rolling a suitcase in from the garage.
“Arizona tomorrow — you ready, Riley?”
“What do I have to do to get ready?” All I could think to do was pack . . . I guess.
“What time does your flight leave tomorrow?” Mom was already in the kitchen getting things out to make dinner.
“As soon as we can get to the airport after school.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Don’t you guys have airline tickets with a departure time listed?”
Something wasn’t right here.
“I have to work, honey, and Brady has science camp. But you’ll have Dad and Flip and Fawn.”
“You’re going to love the private jet,” Dad said.
“A private jet?” Mom looked surprised. “Why didn’t I know about that?”
Dad patted me on the shoulder. “Pretty nice way to travel, huh?”
Mom’s eyes narrowed again.
“Swiftriver has a private jet? That’s extravagant. Didn’t you say they’re a fairly new company?”
“About three years old. Lots of companies have jets.”
“I know, but not new little companies. Swiftriver seems to have quite a bit of capital too.”
“What’s capital?” I asked. They were leaving me out of the conversation again.
“Stuff. They have a lot of stuff for a company just getting started. Don’t you think that’s unusual, Bart?”
“I think you’re just naturally suspicious. Not everyone needs to be investigated.”
“Well, I think it sounds fun to have a whole jet to ourselves,” I said. The only other time I’d been on a plane was when we went to visit my aunt and uncle in New York. We were squished in a back row by the bathroom, and we couldn’t even recline our seats.
Mom just kept looking at my dad. “Just how long have you known Bob Hansen?”
“Three years. Relax. You’re off work right now.” Dad went over and rubbed my mom’s shoulders. When she gets like that only he can calm her down.
“Riley, you need to go up and pack a day’s worth of clothes. The weather report says it’s going to be hot. Make sure you take all your shoes since you don’t know which ones they’ll want you to wear.”
“Okay, Mom.”
I started to head up the stairs when I heard Mom say to Dad, “Maybe I should go with you. I could cancel one of my meetings and Brady could . . .”
Dad interrupted. “Everything’s going to be fine. It’s a shoe company, Lynda. Quit trying to make something out of nothing.”
“Bart, you know I never do that. Ever.”