to fix dinner for my dad.”
Grace stood up too. “Hey . . . why do you—?” She took a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t started to ask Skylar the question that popped into her brain whenever Skylar was around.
“What?” Skylar’s voice was matter-of-fact. “If you want to ask me something, just ask.”
“Why—why do you dress like that, all goth and everything?”
Skylar grinned. “To keep girls like you away from me.” Then she lunged at Grace. “Boo!”
Grace jumped, but then she laughed.
“Too easy,” Skylar said as she laughed too. Then she shook her head and walked out the door.
Grace sat down on the bed again and leaned back on her hands. Maybe getting paired with Skylar for the science project wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.
Chapter Six
On Friday, Darlene was feeling a bit down. She didn’t think she’d made much headway with Cara this week. But she was looking forward to tomorrow evening, Grace’s sixteenth birthday dinner. Surprisingly, Grace had invited only one friend for the celebration—her science partner, Skylar. Skylar had been to the house the past couple of nights, and she and Grace had stayed upstairs working on their science project until fairly late. It seemed an unlikely friendship, but Grace said Skylar didn’t have many friends, so she wanted to invite her. Darlene had asked Layla to join them. And Chad’s new friend, Cindy, would be there. She couldn’t wait to give Grace her present at the party. She’d certainly earned it.
Darlene looked on as Cara worked through a math problem. Cara hadn’t argued about doing the work this week, but every time Darlene had tried to talk to her—about anything—Cara held up her fingers and tapped them to her thumb, signaling yap, yap, yap. Their afternoons had turned into mundane tasks, and Darlene suspected she’d been overzealous in her hopes to somehow make a difference in Cara’s life.
And every afternoon, Cara’s father had shown up at exactly five o’clock, asking about Cara’s day. Always bad, she would tell her father. He would scowl a bit, then instruct Cara to say good-bye.
Darlene looked at her watch. Fifteen more minutes. She had a splitting headache. Her purse was on the chair beside her, so she reached into it and dug around for a bottle of Tylenol, hoping she didn’t distract Cara too much. Her flip book of family photos fell out, along with the bottle. She popped open the top, poured two pills into her hand, and tossed them in her mouth, wishing she had a glass of water. As she reached for the flip book, Cara’s hand slammed down on hers. Darlene looked at the girl, but Cara only stared at the book as she eased it from underneath Darlene’s hand.
“That’s my family,” Darlene said as Cara ran her finger across the top photo. “That’s my husband, Brad, and that’s Chad, Ansley, and Grace.”
Cara turned to the next photo and gave it the same amount of time, still rubbing her finger across the front. Darlene pointed to Ansley.
“That’s my daughter Ansley. She’s the same age as you are.”
Cara looked up at Darlene, her green eyes glowing, a smile on her face. “You are a mother.”
Darlene smiled, surprised at how clearly and slowly Cara had said the words. “Yes, I’m a mother. And those are my children.”
“Ansley?” Cara touched Ansley’s face in the photo with the tip of her finger.
“Yes, Ansley. She’s twelve years old.” Darlene paused as she watched Cara’s animated expression, her eyes wide. “And you know what? Ansley is raising chickens.”
Cara turned to face Darlene, and she giggled. “Chickens? Ansley’s chickens?”
Darlene laughed, thrilled to be actually talking with Cara. “Yep. They are definitely Ansley’s chickens. Every afternoon after school, Ansley goes and collects the eggs. Do you like eggs?”
“I like Ansley’s eggs.” Cara said it so fast that Darlene could barely understand her. Then she said something else Darlene couldn’t understand.
“Cara, I can’t understand you when you talk so fast. Can you say it nice and slow?”
Cara clamped her eyes closed for a few moments, and Darlene wasn’t sure if she was mad or concentrating.
“Take your time, Cara.”
“I like Ansley’s eggs.” Cara pronounced each syllable slowly and clearly.
“Good.” Darlene smiled, hoping to encourage her to continue, which she did.
“Eggs are from chickens.”
“Yes, they are. And you should see how many eggs we have in our refrigerator. Dozens. Ansley doesn’t want us to eat the eggs.”
Cara started laughing loudly. Darlene had no idea if Cara understood what Darlene was saying, but the sound of Cara’s laughter