A Time To Come Home. Darlene Gardner

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      “Diana, are you listening to me?”

      Her head snapped up. “Sorry. What did you say?”

      “I asked if you figured out the filing system and familiarized yourself with the types of programs the center offers?”

      “I did,” she said.

      He lightly rapped the desk. “Great. Let me know if you need anything else, including the number of the Realtor who’s renting that place I told you about.”

      He’d mentioned the apartment enough times that she’d devised a tactful reply about being careful not to act in haste and repent in leisure. But that was before she’d learned the story her mother had invented about her pregnancy. Before she realized nobody would gossip about Jaye after her daughter moved in with her.

      “Actually,” she said, “I would like that number.”

      He grinned, reached into his wallet, pulled out a business card decorated with a Realtor’s logo and slapped it on the counter. “Hot damn. That’s good news. It means my newest hire is here to stay.”

      She smiled at his enthusiasm. “How do you figure that?”

      “You wouldn’t consider living in Bentonsville if you didn’t think things would work out here.”

      She rested her hands on her hips. “I’ll have to get out that tin-foil hat after all.”

      His good-natured laughter lingered in her ears even after he was gone. The sound traveled through her and stirred up the hope bubbling inside her.

      Mere days ago, the thought of returning to Bentonsville had terrified her. Now with a little luck she’d be able to move out of the lonely hotel room in the next few days. Then she’d have the fast-approaching weekend to fix her new place up to her liking. She could spend part of it decorating the second bedroom in shades of pink, Jaye’s favorite color.

      She still had some major hurdles to overcome before she could get Jaye back—including dealing with her mother—but the biggest obstacle no longer seemed so high.

      To think that for all these years she’d harbored an unfounded grudge against Tyler for not at least trying to find out whether he was Jaye’s father.

      The hope that everything would work out rose in her like the helium in a balloon. She picked up the colorful stone from the surface of the desk, tossed it into the air and caught it.

      For the first time since she’d set foot in Bentonsville again, she truly believed the town where her daughter’s father lived represented the perfect place to start over.

      TO MOLLY JACOBY, anywhere was better than home. Even the community center, with the funny old ladies playing cards and the little kids squealing on the playground.

      Besides, she’d catch hell if she got home before school let out. If there was anybody home to catch her. Her dad had moved in with his girlfriend after the divorce and still lived in Virginia, which Molly liked better than this nothing little town. Her mom was a nurse who was always around except when she needed her.

      Not that Molly had needed her in a very long time. Not like her younger brothers and sister did. Jeremy and Jason, the twins, were second-graders. Little Rosie had just started kindergarten.

      Molly was sixteen, as her mom constantly reminded her. Old enough to chip in now that her dad was gone. So how come Molly didn’t help around the house more, babysit the kids and make better grades while she was at it?

      Nag, nag, nag.

      It had gotten so bad Molly invented lies so she didn’t have to come home. Her mom actually believed she was on the technical crew for the school play. As if Molly would have anything to do with a production as lame as Peter Pan.

      Although the center was one of her daytime hangouts, she seldom showed up after dark. The past couple nights, she’d hung with the crowd that snuck into the county park after closing. She’d made few friends since moving to town a month ago so she’d jumped when Bobby Martinelli told her she should come. She’d almost died on the spot that a boy as good looking as Bobby had noticed her at all.

      He and his friends mostly drank beer at one of the picnic shelters. It tasted gross, so Molly didn’t take more than a swallow or two even though Bobby urged her to drink more. Bobby had been pushing her to do a lot of other things, too, but so far she hadn’t let him past second base.

      Her mom would throw a fit if she knew where Molly had been spending her nights. And who she’d been spending them with. But her mom was so busy with the little kids and so bitter about the divorce, she didn’t have the energy to keep tabs on Molly.

      She sure could muster the strength to yell at her, though.

      The teen study lounge was deserted, pretty much its usual state. Molly had lurked outside the center until Valerie, the usual receptionist, had left her post, then slipped inside, minimizing the chance that anybody would give her the third degree.

      Molly dropped her backpack beside an armchair, then dug around for her CD player. Most of the other kids had iPods, but not Molly. Her mom claimed they were an “unnecessary extravagance.”

      She put in a CD by a loud rock band, plugged in her earphones and curled up on the chair with a book she’d lifted from the school library just to see if she could.

      She tucked her legs up under her and soon lost herself in a Terry Pratchett book set in a make-believe land with trolls and elves and lots of other cool stuff. Just when she was getting to the epic battle, a shadow fell over her.

      A woman she’d never seen before wearing a name tag that identified herself as a center employee stood over her. Younger than most of the people at the center, she was still a good ten years older than Molly. An adult. Rolling her eyes, Molly took out her earphones, cutting off a heavy metal riff.

      “You surprised me, too,” the woman said. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

      Molly said nothing, hoping the woman would take the hint and go away. She looked nervous enough. Instead, the woman asked, “Good book?”

      Molly shrugged. “It’s okay.”

      The woman angled her head, reading the author’s name on the back cover. “Oh, I love Terry Pratchett. Have you read the one where the Grim Reaper takes an apprentice? That’s my favorite.”

      Molly loved that book most, too, but she only grunted.

      The woman’s smile faltered, but she stuck out a hand. “I’m Diana Smith. I started working here a couple days ago.”

      Molly ignored her hand, but enough manners had been drilled into her that she grudgingly said, “I’m Molly.”

      “So, Molly,” she said, her voice wavering a little, “what brings you here at this time of day?”

      So that was what this was all about. Goody Two-shoes obviously knew school was still in session. Molly went on the defensive. “They don’t care if you leave early if you have study hall last period.”

      Diana squirmed, as though talking to Molly made her uncomfortable. СКАЧАТЬ