did in front of her friends or her friends’ parents appeared to embarrass her.
“I just wanted to come in and let you know that it’s my fault Emma’s late in getting home tonight.”
Tully continued to watch Emma out of the corner of his eyes. The girl was an expert manipulator, just like her mother. Had she put Mrs. Edmund up to this? Finally, he crossed his arms over his chest and gave his full attention to the petite blonde, an older mirror image of her own daughter. If she had hoped to cover for Emma without providing an explanation, she was mistaken.
He waited. Mrs. Edmund fidgeted with her purse strap and pushed back an unruly strand of hair. Usually people didn’t act nervous unless they were guilty of something. Tully didn’t bother to fill the discomforting silence, despite seeing Emma squirm. He smiled at Mrs. Edmund and waited.
“They wanted to go to a rally at one of the monuments instead of going to a movie. I thought it would be okay. But afterward, traffic was just nuts. I hate driving in the District. I got lost a couple of times. It was just a mess.” She stopped and looked up at him as if checking to see if that was sufficient. She continued, “Then I couldn’t find them. We crossed wires as to the exact place I’d pick them up. Thank God, it didn’t rain. And all that traffic—”
Tully held up a hand to stop her. “I’m just grateful you’re all safe and sound. Thanks again, Mrs. Edmund.”
“Oh, please, you must start calling me Cynthia.”
He could see Emma roll her eyes.
“I’ll try to remember that. Thanks so much, Cynthia.” He escorted her out the front door, waiting on the steps until she made it safely into her car. Alesha waved at him and her mother joined in, the distraction almost causing the woman to back into his mailbox.
When he stepped back inside, Emma was in his spot, a leg over the recliner arm and channel surfing. He snagged the remote, shut the TV off and stood in front of her.
“You made Mrs. Edmund drive all the way into the District? What happened to going to a movie?”
“We met some kids during our field trip. They invited us to this rally. It sounded fun. Besides, we didn’t make Mrs. Edmund drive us. She said it was okay.”
“That’s almost an hour’s drive. And what kind of a rally was this? Were drugs and alcohol being passed around?”
“Dad, chill out. It was some religious revival thing. Lots of singing and clapping.”
“Why in the world would you and Alesha even want to go to something like that?”
She sat up and started taking off her shoes, as if suddenly dead tired and in need of getting to bed.
“Like I said, we met some cool kids on our field trip, and they told us we should come. It was sort of a yawner, though. We ended up walking around the monuments and talking to some kids we met.”
“Kids? Or boys?”
“Well, there were boys and girls.”
“Emma, walking around the monuments at that time of night could be dangerous.”
“There were like tons of other people, Dad. Busloads. They have tour groups. Real sight-seeing fanatics, rubbing their little pieces of paper on the wall and taking umpteen pictures with their cheap disposables.”
Tully did remember that there were several night tours of the monuments. She was probably right. They were probably just as safe as in the daylight. Besides, didn’t the monuments have twenty-four-hour security?
“You were really funny with Mrs. Edmund.” She smiled up at him.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought for a minute there you were gonna ground her.” She giggled and Tully couldn’t help but smile.
The two of them ended up laughing, eating the rest of the corn chips and staying up to watch the last half of Hitchcock’s Rear Window on American Movie Classics. Yes, his daughter was a chip off her mother’s block, already knowing what buttons to push. And Tully wondered, once again, if he’d ever get this parenting thing right.
CHAPTER 18
Justin pretended to sleep. The converted Greyhound bus was finally quiet, the rumble of the engine and tires a welcome lullaby. Thank God! No more fucking “Kumbaya” songs. Getting through that wacky “praise the Lord” and “Yahweh rules” at the too-long prayer rally had been bad enough. But Justin knew his head would surely explode if he had to listen to that crap for the three-hour bus ride home.