at least listen to music or else watch movies on it?”
“The cameras in my room had audio,” Emma answered. “Mother said they were for my own protection since the therapist at the first center was concerned that I might be suicidal.”
“Were you?” Sophie asked.
“Nope, but now that I’m away from there even for a day, I’m wondering why I wasn’t.” Emma pulled up a shopping site and sighed. “What do I order? I’ve never done this. Mother picks out everything for me.”
“Start with underwear. You won’t need a lot since we have a washer and dryer here in the trailer. Then move on to jeans, shorts, and whatever else takes your eye. Just put it in the cart and then we’ll complete the order.”
Emma sat back down in one of the chairs, typed “bras” into the search engine, and picked out a pretty lacy one, but she didn’t know what size she wore. She laid the phone down and hurried inside, checked the one she’d worn the day before, and then went back out. “Crazy, isn’t it? I have no idea what sizes I wear.”
“What did you wear at home?” Sophie asked as she started to do a rough sketch of the mountains.
“Slacks, sweaters, shirts—unless I was going to the beauty shop, and then I had to be dressed up,” Emma answered.
“What do you want to wear?” Sophie asked.
“Don’t laugh at me, but I liked what Filly was wearing last night. Long flowing skirts and sandals. I think I might have been a fortune teller in another life,” Emma replied.
“Then order whatever will make you feel good when you wear it,” Sophie told her.
“What do you like to wear?” Emma asked as she scrolled through the site.
“I have two pair of bibbed overalls I’ve cut off to make shorts that I wear when I paint. I can wear one and wash one, so I only need a couple, and I can use the pockets for my brushes. I have the normal little black dresses for gallery showings, and seasonal things for when Teddy and I go out to eat. From now until then, that will be sundresses and Filly’s jewelry. I always buy at least two or three of her pieces while I’m here.” Sophie sketched as she talked.
Emma’s chest tightened again when she thought of what her mother would say if she saw the virtual cart loaded with lacy bras and bikini underwear and the skirts and tank tops. Victoria would tell her that hookers dressed like that and that her daughter was a dignified woman. She almost deleted everything and went back to start all over with sensible bras and white underpants, but then she heard Sophie’s words—loud and clear in her head—about making her own decisions.
A screen popped up asking for her shipping address.
“What’s the address here?” Emma asked.
“That would be Hummingbird Trailer Park, Hummingbird Lane #13, Terlingua, Texas, 79852,” Sophie answered.
Emma held her breath as she punched in her credit card information next and let it out in a whoosh when she finished.
She pressed the “Submit” button. A screen immediately popped up that said her credit card was invalid. She couldn’t remember the last thing she’d bought with it, so the card company was probably just being super careful. She laid the phone aside, went to her room, and got the actual card from her purse. Using the landline, she called the number on the back and found that her card had been closed as of that morning.
“Mother is really in control of my life,” she groaned.
Sophie poked her head inside the open doors. “Did you say something to me?”
Emma slid down to the floor and put her head into her hands. “Mother has shut down my credit card and probably frozen my bank account.”
“How can she do that?” Sophie asked.
“She insists on being on all my accounts. What money I have comes from what my grandmother left for me. I didn’t get a job while I was at college. The interest goes into my checking account each month and Mother’s name is on the account as well as mine since I’m . . .” Tears spilled down Emma’s cheeks. Her newly found freedom had only been a pipe dream.
Sophie picked up her cell phone, poked a few buttons, and said, “There, I fixed it.”
“How?” Emma asked without raising her head.
“I used my credit card.” Sophie shrugged and went back to work.