Chasing Rainbows A Novel - By Long, Kathleen Page 0,17

it can’t be easy, David. She’s forty-one years old. Maybe you could be a little more sympathetic.”

He scowled. I hated it when David scowled. He’d been scowling at me ever since I’d convinced Diane that a few shots of rum the night before senior finals would help her study.

“You think it’s easy on me?” He patted his chest. “I need her here.”

I narrowed my gaze on him. He couldn’t be this selfish. Could he? Didn’t he realize how lucky he was to be expecting another child?

“Do you know what I would...”

I caught myself before I said it. Do you know what I would give to be pregnant?

I’d put on a pretty good front when it came to Diane and David’s pregnancy. I wasn’t about to blow the illusion now--especially not in front of David.

I tried again. “...what I would do?” I gestured grandly toward the rink, empty now that the local hockey league practice had ended. “I’d get some temporary help.”

He scowled again. This was really growing old.

“You think it’s easy to find the right person just like that?” He snapped his fingers. “Plus, that would mean another salary.”

I tapped my chest, knowing I had a solution that could help us both. “I could do it...for free.” I was desperate for direction in my life and, if nothing else, helping at the rink would achieve my first two life goals. Keep busy. Get out of the house.

As far as life goals went, mine might not be up there with say, saving the world, but they were a start.

David’s expression tightened. I hadn’t thought it possible. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I cleared my throat, pulled myself up taller and bolstered my resolve. “I’m taking a sabbatical from work. I could help you out in the afternoons.”

One brow lifted. “I heard you got fired.”

David had always believed the worst of me. I shook my head and decided to rise above the temptation to argue semantics. “I quit.”

“Shouldn’t make big decisions right after a major life change...or two.”

This time I was the one sporting the scowl. “Where’d you learn that? Daytime television?”

“I know things, smart ass.”

“You don’t say?” I rubbed my chin as if I were impressed by David’s enlightenment.

He smirked. “You’re serious about helping?”

I nodded.

“When can you start?”

“Right now.”

“Great. Ashley needs a ride to some bead party thing.”

o0o

We were barely out of the ice rink parking lot when Ashley let loose with a sigh that rattled the car windows.

“Did they tell you they want to sing at my school family night? Sing.”

I winced. On the grand scale of parental embarrassment, that had to rank right at the top.

“I’ll die, Aunt Bernie. Die.” She gasped. “Sorry.”

“No problem, honey. In this case, it’s a well-deserved use of that particular figure of speech.” I chose my words carefully. “Other parents must be performing, right?”

Ashley shook her head. “I don’t care. You’ve got to stop them.” She gestured wildly. “If they sing in front of the whole school, I’ll...I’ll...”

She turned to me dramatically, leaned across the console and spoke slowly and clearly. “I’ll never be able to go back there again. I’ll have to change my identity or something.”

I worked to keep my expression as controlled as my response. “Ashley, it can’t be that bad.”

“Have you ever heard them sing?”

Sadly, yes. “Not since college. They used to sing this old Sonny and Cher song.” I laughed. “Lord, they were awful.”

Ashley blew out another sigh and slumped against the passenger door.

I blinked. “They’re not singing that, are they?”

She nodded. “In costume.”

Okay, so the kid had reason to panic, and suddenly, I couldn’t help torturing her just a bit more.

“Hey, if you want real talent, your mom and I could do our Superfreak dance routine.”

The heat of the kid’s glare singed my cheek. “You’re not helping.”

I bit back my grin. “I’ll talk to them.”

“Thank you.”

The instant relief in her voice made me smile. “So, tell me about this party.”

Ten minutes later I’d gotten a blow-by-blow description of every girl attending the birthday party. Apparently, this was Ashley’s first invitation into an “in” crowd gathering, and she was scared to death.

“What if I blow it?”

I patted her back as we walked toward the entrance to the shop. “You won’t blow it. Relax.”

As soon as we pushed through the door, the sound of teenaged giggles and squeals carried from somewhere out of sight.

“Are you here for the party?” A young woman looked up from a table where she worked, beads and tools strewn in front of her.

Ashley nodded.

“In