Anything for Her Children. Darlene Gardner

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       CHAPTER THREE

       M ONDAY MORNING ARRIVED far too soon for Keri, the same way as always. Bryan, true to form, got ready for school in about fifteen minutes flat.

      “I’m leaving, Rose,” she heard him call up the stairs to his younger sister. “Want a ride to school?”

      “Can’t you wait?” Rose yelled back. She could be heard dashing about her room.

      Bryan stuck his head into the kitchen, where Keri was packing a honey-ham-and-Swiss-cheese sandwich into a brown paper bag. Rose didn’t like the school cafeteria food but was running too late to make her own lunch. Keri didn’t mind doing it for her, and she wanted to be sure Rose wouldn’t skip eating altogether.

      “Bye, Keri,” Bryan said.

      “Do you have that paper for Coach Quinlan?” She had little doubt the coach would not be forgiving should Bryan forget it.

      “In my backpack,” Bryan said, already moving toward the door. A few moments later, she heard the engine of his car start and the slide of tires over pavement as he pulled out of the driveway.

      Keri finished packing Rose’s lunch, checked the clock, then yelled, “Rosie, you’ll miss the bus if you don’t hurry.”

      “Can you drive me?” Rose called back.

      The high school was across town in the opposite direction of the newspaper, which meant Keri would get to work a few minutes past the time she preferred to arrive.

      None of her coworkers cared if she came in a few minutes late, but Keri did. To assuage her conscience, she’d either eat a quick lunch at her desk or stay late.

      “Okay,” Keri hollered. “But I still want you to speed it up.”

      Keri didn’t sit down in front of her computer in the advertising department of the Springhill Gazette until fifteen minutes past the hour, not entirely due to Rose.

      A reporter, a security guard and one of the mailroom staff had stopped her on the way to the elevator to complain about Bryan’s suspension.

      “New coach don’t have much sense.” Chester, the security guard, was a big burly man who’d played basketball for Springhill fifteen years ago. “Everybody knows Bryan’s cool.”

      Everybody except Grady Quinlan.

      Keri had swallowed her resentment and formed a diplomatic response. “It was just an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

      “Then Bryan’s playing tomorrow night?” Chester asked.

      “Friday night,” she replied.

      “Damn fool coach.”

      She relegated Chester’s astute comment to the back of her mind and navigated her mouse until her twenty-one-inch flat-screen monitor showed a page from the special advertising section she’d started to lay out last Friday.

       The biggest sale of the year, she typed into a text box. Wasn’t that the way of the world, she thought. Everything cost less after the holiday shopping season.

      “Morning, Keri.” Jill McMann approached from behind her and set a fragrant cup of cappuccino on the desk next to Keri’s computer. Mocha, her favorite flavor.

      Keri breathed in the familiar scent, then smiled at her friend. “You’re too good to me.”

      “Then it’s your turn.” Jill swept a hand down the lime-green sweater dress that looked great with her short black hair and pale skin. “Tell me you still can’t see my baby weight.”

      “What baby weight?”

      “Good answer.” Jill sank into her seat at the computer in the cubicle across from Keri’s.

      Because Jill had filled Maddy’s position after Maddy died, Keri hadn’t been prepared to like her. But Jill had slowly won Keri over with her wry wit. It helped that Jill didn’t like sports and never talked basketball, two things Keri got enough of at home.

      “I’ll deny this if you repeat it, but I’m glad I don’t have to change any more diapers until tonight. I swear Amy’s going for a world record.” Only a year older than Keri’s twenty-five, Jill had packed a lot of living into the past three years. She’d fallen in love, gotten married and had a baby girl who was now five months old. “So now that you’ve heard what I did this weekend, what did you do?”

      “The usual. Laundry. Grocery shopping. Cleaning. Oh, and I helped Rose with a history project. She remembered on Sunday that it was due today.”

      “That’s not what I meant,” Jill said as she logged on to her computer. “Did you do anything for you? ”

      “I saw a movie.”

      “Now we’re getting somewhere.” Jill gave Keri her full attention, her amber-colored eyes sparkling. “Which movie?”

       “Romancing the Stone.”

      Jill groaned. “That movie’s twenty years old. I thought you went out to the movie theater. Possibly with a man.”

      “I don’t have time to date,” Keri said.

      “You don’t make time to date.” Jill swiveled in her seat and crossed one long leg over the other. “Why, even Bryan’s dating. Did I tell you I saw him at Mario’s Pizza double-dating with Becky Harding and her boyfriend?”

      Keri snapped to attention. “When?”

      “Let’s see.” Jill tapped the end of a pen on her desk. “Over Christmas break. The Saturday before last.”

      That didn’t make sense. The Snowball Dance had been before the break. If Becky was upset about not going with Bryan, why would she be hanging out with him? “Are you sure?”

      “Positive. That Saturday was Kevin’s birthday. He got to choose the restaurant. Last year he picked La Fontaine, that fabulous French place about an hour from here.” Jill carried on, unaware she’d temporarily lost Keri’s attention.

      “But this year we had Amy so he settled for Mario’s. Good thing, too, because she started screaming bloody murder when the waiter brought the food. Probably because she doesn’t have teeth yet.”

      “Are you positive it was Becky Harding?”

      Jill seemed taken aback by the question. “Yeah. I know Becky. The Hardings are neighbors of mine.”

      “And Bryan was with her?”

      “Not ‘with her’ with her,” Jill said. “Bryan was with some blonde. Becky was with her boyfriend. Jeremiah something or other.”

      “Jeremiah Bowden,” Keri supplied. She didn’t know the boy personally but had heard Bryan mention his name several times.

      “That’s it. Jeremiah Bowden. I remember Becky’s mom saying СКАЧАТЬ