“LOOK AT YOU!” RUDY EXCLAIMED AS HARPER CLIMBED OUT OF THE CAR.
Harper reached up and touched her hair self-consciously as her freckled cheeks turned pink. “Do you really like it?”
Rudy nodded. “It looks nice.”
“Thanks,” Harper said, half smiling. “Janelle said I should get my ears pierced, too.”
“You should!”
“Your mom would have to take me.”
Cora reached into the back seat for her pocketbook and the grocery bags. “As I said, one thing at a time. Rudy, please come take these.”
“I can take something,” Harper offered.
“No. Remember, Harper? The doctor says you have to take it easy.”
“I’m not made of glass, you know,” Harper replied glumly.
“Mm-hmm,” Cora said, handing the bags to Rudy. “Where are your brothers?”
“Inside.”
She reached for the dark red chrysanthemum Harper had picked out for Janelle. “Here, you can take this, though.” Harper took the mum from her and cradled it in her arms while Cora reached in back for the milk. She closed the door. “You kids are goin’ through milk like it’s goin’ out of style.”
“I won’t drink any more,” Harper volunteered hopefully. “I’ll just have water and I’ll eat less, too.”
“That’s not the answer, baby,” Cora said softly, eyeing her.
Harper looked away. She would never understand why it couldn’t be the answer.
“Do you wanna see if Janelle’s home right now?” she asked, nodding in the direction of her neighbor’s apartment.
“Sure,” Harper said. Cora watched her walk over and knock on the door, but there was no answer. “She’s not home,” Harper called.
“C’mon then,” Cora called. “You can try again later.” She walked toward the front door, where McMuffin was meowing impatiently. “Did anyone feed this poor cat?” she asked as Harper knelt down to pet her.
Rudy shrugged. “I don’t know—it’s Frank’s job.”
Cora opened the door and the gray tiger scooted in, right past Joe, who was immersed in a video game, and barely looked up. “Have you done your homework, mister?”
“Don’t have any.”
“Ha! I find that hard to believe! You have five more minutes on that game, and then, off.”
“But I need a half hour to finish this level,” Joe protested.
“That’s unfortunate, because you only have five minutes.”
Joe frowned but knew better than to argue.
“Where’s Frank?” she asked. Joe shrugged—he wouldn’t tell her even if he did know.
“Frank, did you feed Muffin?” Cora called. There was no answer, so she plopped the bags and milk jug on the table and headed down the hall. She knocked on his door, but there was still no answer, so she pushed it open. “Frank!” she shouted, and Frank looked up, startled, from his old laptop, pulled an earbud out of his ear, and quickly tapped his browser to a different page.
“What are you watching?” Cora asked, eyeing him.
“Nothin’.”
She frowned. “You better not be somewhere you shouldn’t be.”
“I’m not, Mama,” Frank said, sounding annoyed.
“Did you feed the cat?”
“No, I thought Rudy did.”
“Have you done your homework?”
“I’m working on it—I’m almost done. Now that you’re home, can I go shoot some hoops?”
“When you’ve finished your homework.”
Frank groaned. “It’ll be dark by then.”
“Well, if you weren’t wasting your time on some foolish website, you’d be done and you’d be going right now.”
“I’m not wasting time, and I can finish later.”
“Finish now,” Cora said firmly.
Frank slammed his desk drawer. “I swear, Mama. I never get to go anywhere.”
“Don’t you raise your voice with me, young man, or you won’t go anywhere.”
Frank clenched his jaw. “You know, if I didn’t have to babysit all the time, I could make the team and I could get a scholarship.”
“I’m sorry, Frank, but if I have to pay a babysitter, I won’t be able to pay the rent and we’ll be living on the street.”
“Why can’t they go to an after-school program?”
Cora stepped into his room and closed the door. “Maybe that’s something we can look into,” she said in a low voice, “but, at the moment, I have my hands full. Harper is not well, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with her. I’m sorry all this is happening right now, and I’m sorry that this is falling on you. But it is not my fault.”
Frank shook his head and looked away. “Well, it sucks.”
“I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t use that kind of language.”
“Sucks is not a bad word.”
“Would you like me to use it?”
Frank just rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Get your homework done and you can go.”
“It’ll be too late.”
Cora looked at her son leaning back in his chair. His lanky arms were attached to big strong hands with long angular fingers, and his legs stretched all the way under his desk—he had to be almost six feet. Good Lord! When had he gotten so tall? And he was probably right. If he had the opportunity, he might very well be able to get an athletic scholarship.
“When are tryouts?” Cora asked softly.
“Right after Thanksgiving,” Frank said, perking up.
Cora opened the door. “I will try to figure something out. But I’m not making any promises.”
Frank nodded. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“It’s okay.”
“Leave your door open,” Cora called back as she headed for the kitchen. She passed through the living room and realized Joe was still playing his video game. “Off!” she commanded. “You’ve had more than five minutes!”
“Five more?” Joe pleaded.
“No. Get off now, or you won’t go on again this week.”
Joe turned off the game and slumped dejectedly on the couch. Maybe Frank was on to something, she thought. If Joe and Rudy were in an after-school program, Joe wouldn’t be spending all afternoon playing video games and Rudy wouldn’t be venturing off on her bike without a helmet. She would have to look into it . . . just as soon as she found a foster home for Harper.