on me; he snuck out more than I did.
I wished Tig and I could Waffle House tonight. God, bacon sounded good. Hash browns scattered, smothered, and covered with a waxy slice of American cheese. Pancakes, and I could almost feel the thin spread of maple-flavored syrup on my tongue. But I was broke; just this week, after her “big announcement,” Mom’d told me she was going to start putting my allowance directly into my savings account. She’d also emptied out my pig, depositing my saved-up babysitting money. For college, she’d said, though thanks to Nana’s trust my college was covered. More than. We both knew she really did it to stop me buying food.
I grabbed four pears from the ceramic bowl on the counter and threw them into the tote with the Lysol. I checked the pantry. Canned soups, jars of oil and olives, five kinds of cereal that all looked and tasted like the cedar chips in the bottom of my hamster’s cage.
I opened the fridge and found packages of skinless chicken breasts stacked up like a wall of bland, waiting to be baked dry. I fished a plastic envelope of ham, 98 percent fat-free, out of the deli drawer. I divided the slices in half and made two sandwiches on the extra-thin-cut diet bread. There was no cheese or mayo in the house. No ketchup either, because of the sugar. I squirted on some mustard and bagged them up.
These were the best things I had to offer Tig, moon crazy and wanting meat. Tomorrow I’d have better. Our neighbors down the street, the Shipleys, had a new baby that wouldn’t sleep at night. Pretty Mrs. Shipley had asked me to come by right after school and babysit, so she could get a nap. I could tell Mom I’d been at the library and keep the money.
Plus, three-year-old Lolly and I would have snack, screwing the tops off Oreos, eating the filling, then dipping the sides in Mrs. Shipley’s whole milk. We’d get milk mustaches and color pictures of Ariel or Muppets while baby Paul cooed and drooled in the bouncer. Mrs. Shipley never noticed that I snuck extra cookies or her Pringles home in my backpack. She wore peasant blouses that slipped off one delicate shoulder and narrow-cut capri pants; no way she ate junk food. I couldn’t imagine Mrs. Shipley eating anything but leaves.
But Tig was here now. So it was pears and diet bread stuffed with rubbery, fatless ham. In desperation I checked the lower cabinets. Tupperware and pans and kitchen gadgets, nothing good or even edible. Until I looked under the sink.
In the very back, behind the cleaning products and the extra sponges, I saw a large green bottle lurking. Red wine? It had been left there so long that the top was dusty, and the big bottle meant it was cheap. Too cheap to be seen in the living-room bar. I vaguely remembered Dad bringing it home a few months ago. To make sangria. Mom had told him, “I said inexpensive wine, not salad dressing.” That was like Dad, though. He did it wrong so Mom remembered not to trouble him with errands.
I paused. Except for tastes of my mom’s champagne at New Year’s or weddings, I hadn’t really ever had a drink. But I might like it, and Tig for sure would be impressed. Plus, Mom owed me some fun. She’d taken all my money and ruined my summer in one fell Monday swoop. And it’s not like I’d get caught. Mom was blind to cheap stuff, and Dad only noticed the things that were not right there waiting when he wanted them. If I made off with the Blanton’s, he’d bellow, Janine! at my mother right at 7:00 p.m. sharp. But this? It was invisible. If my brother had ever looked in this cabinet, he’d have snootched it long ago.
I had to shift half a dozen cleaning products to get the giant jug out, careful to avoid any kind of clanking. Then I put everything back and hurried away, slipping out the back door and into the night.
Tig waited at the edge of the yard, dressed in his uniform as well, though his pants were frayed at the bottom and his hand-me-down shirt had faded from navy to a muddy royal blue. I lumbered toward him, hampered by my guitar, the heavy jug, the tote bag on my shoulder. As I got close, I saw that the bruise on his cheek had