“You getting religious all of a sudden?”
That is Denise’s question
the next morning while I’m prying
the third burned English muffin
out of the toaster. I have no idea what English
muffins have to do with religion.

I hold the fork with the black disk on it
up to Denise’s face
so she can see how really bad we need
to talk to Dad about home improvements.
“You’d think with the three of us working all the time,
we could afford a new toaster,” I say,
still ignoring her question.

“Suzi saw you hangin’ out at the A.M.E. Church
last night,” she says. “And I know why.”

OK. Now Denise has my complete attention.
I force my own face to read
blank. I turn quick
back to the toaster and pretend to be fishing out
more pieces of muffin.
My palms get sweaty. I wonder
if I will electrocute myself right here in the kitchen.

I unplug the machine and turn it upside
down so a thousand toasted bread crumbs spill onto the counter.
My mind goes into overdrive.
That was Suzi in the red Chevy.
But she couldn’t know about the treasure, could she?
Think, Lyza, think.
I didn’t go back to the woods last night….
But could Suzi—or Denise—have seen us back there
some other time when we thought we were alone?

“Oh, really?” I ask her over my shoulder
easy and casual, like I don’t even care.
“Why is that?”

Denise saunters over to me, hands on her hips,
clearly enjoying whatever it is she’s
found out about me, which is something
I can’t prevent now. I suck in my breath.
She pokes my left shoulder with her index finger.

“Admit it, Lyza … you still have a crush
on Johnny Fetterline,” she announces triumphantly.
I take a few seconds
to let that misinformation sink in.
I look down at my feet so she
can’t see my relief.
It’s scary to think that at one time
Denise had plans to go to medical school.