words—doing my best to avoid Jude’s gaze. “Sure. The animals were all there, too. Some of them were pretty freaked out by the storm. We even lost power.”
“Wow. Sounds traumatic.”
Traumatic isn’t the word I would use to describe it. Should I tell Jude what happened? I mean, normally I tell him everything, but … there’s never really been boy stuff to talk about before, and suddenly I feel weird about it. He might be one of my best friends, but he’s still my brother. Plus, he knows Quint. He witnessed our mutual dislike of each other firsthand. How am I supposed to explain how quickly and completely things have changed?
“It was an adventure,” I say.
I’m saved from giving further details when Mom comes into the kitchen with a cardboard box tucked against her hip. “You kids don’t have any interest in golf, do you?”
We both look at her.
“Golf?” I say, not sure I heard correctly.
Jude, equally dumbfounded, adds, “As in, the sport?”
“I’ll take that as a no. We have those old golf clubs that were your grandfather’s, but … I think I’m going to get rid of them. Your dad and I are trying to clean house a little bit, so if you guys have anything else you’re not using anymore…” She pats the side of the box, smiles at us, then walks back out.
I gulp, remembering the receipt for our belongings at the pawnshop. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Jude, abandoning my half-finished sandwich on the counter.
The envelope of money is still tucked into my backpack, which I’d haphazardly thrown onto the entryway bench when I came. Seeing it reminds me of my visit to the pawnshop and everything that preceded it. The lost earring, the beachcomber, the missing money from the donation jar.
I clutch the envelope in both hands and go in search of Mom. She’s in the garage, using a damp towel to dust off a bag of old golf clubs.
“Hey, Mom? This is yours.”
She glances up, surprised. “What is it?” she asks, taking the envelope. Her eyes widen when she sees the money inside.
“I stopped by the pawnshop yesterday morning, looking for something, for a friend … but Clark thought I’d come in to pick up your money. So he gave me this. There’s the receipt, too, so you know what sold and for how much…” I hesitate, before adding, “The silverware hasn’t sold yet, but someone did buy the keyboard.”
She closes the envelope and looks at me, concerned for a moment, before her face softens. “It’s all just old stuff that we’re not using. Stuff we don’t need anymore. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. I know.” I tighten the belt on my robe. “But we also need the money, don’t we?”
She sighs and drapes the rag over one of the clubs. “We’re not desperate, if that’s what you’re wondering. Business has started to pick up at the store, thank heavens for tourist season. We can pay our bills. We’re fine.”
“But?”
She presses her lips together. “You know, things sure do get harder to hide from you kids when you guys get older.”
“Mom.”
She nods, wiping her palms on her jeans. “Lucy wants to sign up for soccer and basketball again this year, but she’ll need new jerseys, new shoes. Penny’s bike isn’t going to last another summer, and of course, there are still music lessons to consider. And Ellie’s preschool teachers mentioned a science-based summer camp coming up next month that she’s of course dying to do…” She looks away. “Your dad and I have always wanted to give you kids every opportunity, every experience we could. But life is expensive. Families are expensive. And as much as we love the store … it is never going to make us rich.”
I bite my lower lip. I know I shouldn’t ask, but … “Mom. Do you ever wish…” I can’t bring myself to say it.
“What?” she asks. “That we didn’t have you kids?”
“That you didn’t have so many of us.”
She laughs. “Easy for the oldest to say, isn’t it?” She tucks the envelope of money into her back pocket, then takes my face into her hands. “Never, Prudence. You and Jude and your sisters bring us more joy than any amount of money ever could. And…” She releases me and glances at the golf clubs. “If I can trade some of our old junk in order to make your childhoods a little brighter, I will in a heartbeat. This is just stuff. But you only get to live