“Whatever you want to share.” For such a tiny woman, she was a commanding presence. Her voice, though soft, had authority, and I didn’t feel comfortable saying no to her. Her daughter could take a lesson on communication from her mother.
I sucked in a breath. “Well. My best friend, who may now be my former best friend, decided to date a complete creep who got arrested for grand larceny and decided to take the two of us along for the ride. I named names, I got a five-hundred-dollar fine, a misdemeanor charge, and community service. He’s in jail, and she’s sequestered at boarding school and won’t speak to me.”
Blanche looked me in the eyes the entire time I spoke, and I never saw any judgment pass through them. That was a small relief. Two more points to Blanche. “So. Yeah. Now I’m on house arrest. Oh, and my dad left the country still mad at me. There’s that too.”
She was quiet for a beat, and then nodded once. “And you’ve started a business of some sort to pay the fine?”
“Well, not exclusively, no. That was just good timing, I guess. I make logos, headers, and such for websites, that kind of thing.”
“You must be very talented if people are willing to pay for your work.”
I frowned. “Only one person, so far. But hopefully more. And I don’t know about talented. I’m just good with the software, I guess.” The heartbreak of getting rejected from McIntosh still loomed over my head like a storm cloud threatening to break open and douse me. I knew I was a competent artist, but not making it into the most selective of high schools still hurt more than I wanted to admit.
“Did you make this logo for yourself?” Blanche gestured to the screen and my incomplete order.
“Yep.” I looked at her and saw something I hadn’t seen from my stepfamily recently, or maybe ever. Interest. “What, um, do you think of it?”
“It’s simple, but effective. The wings are a nice touch, I think. Makes it seem like you’d care about your clients.” She nodded again, approvingly. Huh. I just thought I was swiping from a keychain. “Do they mean anything?”
I looked away, not ready to share that much; I’d told her enough for one night.
She understood immediately, perceptive woman, and rose from the bed. “You’d better complete your order. Maybe you can leave some cards at Matilda’s school later this week.”
Tilly had an end-of-the-year extravaganza at McIntosh in a couple days. “I’d have to pay extra to get it here in time.” And I didn’t add that I barely had enough in my savings account to cover the swag.
Blanche held up one finger, as if to tell me to hold on for a second, and disappeared. When she came back moments later, she stepped toward me and slid something onto my desk, next to the laptop. A credit card. I looked up at her astonished, mouth gaping, too confused to speak.
“Put it back on my dresser when you’re done. You can make it up to me later. And don’t worry. I won’t tell her.” She winked and left.
It felt a little like I’d found myself a fairy godmother.
Chapter 4
The last day of school came and went without fanfare. Most of the buzz about me and Ashlyn had died down to a dull roar by then. It was such a wasted day, due to exams being over; most kids used the last few hours to write clichés in each other’s yearbooks about how that person magically changed their lives that year, or how they hoped to see them at the pool. I might have been guilty of the same meaningless words if I’d had someone to say them to. Like Ashlyn. Instead, I just wished my classmates a nice summer and left it at that. I didn’t really have the energy for anything more creative.
Driving home, my phone rang. I let it go to voicemail, and at the next red light quickly put on the Bluetooth and checked the caller. Mrs. Schmidt, my favorite babysitting client. I smiled and immediately called her back.
“Oh, hi, Tatum,” she said brightly in my left ear. “Thanks for calling back so quickly. Did you listen to my message?”
“Hi, Mrs. Schmidt. Nope, I’m driving. I figured calling back was easier.”
“Well, I have some bad news and some good news.” I didn’t think anything she had to tell me could make my life worse.
“All right. Give me the bad news first.”
“The bad news is that, sadly, we won’t be needing your babysitting services this summer.”
My jaw dropped open. I had watched the Schmidt girls, Maya and Kate, for the last three years, while Mrs. Schmidt worked from home. She was a freelance editor for a women’s magazine and always had a hard time staying on schedule when the girls were underfoot.
“Oh. Okay,” I said quietly. Had I done something? Had she heard about my legal mishap?
“My husband’s grandmother passed away, and we inherited her home on the Eastern Shore. We’re all going to spend the summer there, if you can believe it. We haven’t had a family vacation in years, so this is really a gift.” Phew. I was sad for their loss, but selfishly glad their change in plans had nothing to do with me.
“That’s amazing. Congratulations.” They were a hardworking family and definitely deserved the break.
“Thanks, hon. So here’s the good news. We would love to hire you as a pet sitter instead.”
“No vacation for the critters?”
“My sister-in-law and her kids are coming too, and her youngest is allergic to pretty much anything that’s not human, so the pets are staying at home.” Maya had picked out a hamster named Princess Sweetheart on her fifth birthday last year, and Kate had the fourth in a long line of beta fish, Mr. Blue. There was also a very overweight gray cat named Gus. Despite his grumpy demeanor, Gus was an excellent sport, having been subjected to countless hours of dress-up and tea parties with the girls. “So, do you think you can handle taking care of our zoo?”
I laughed. “Sure, I think I can manage.”
She clapped her hands, the sound smacking in my ear. “Excellent. I think a couple times a week will be fine, and you know where the food is. You can work around your schedule, as I’m sure you have a lot of exciting plans. Start next Monday?”
Little did she know, and I wasn’t going to tell her any differently about my so-called exciting plans. “You can count on me. Have a great time. Give the girls a hug for me.”
“I will. Thanks, Tatum, you’re a lifesaver.” She disconnected.
Although pet sitting hadn’t been part of the plan, I thought that maybe it could be for the best. An empty house at my disposal all summer, with no scary Belén checking up on me? That could work out nicely after all.
My first official summer outing under Belén’s reign was pretty much how I would describe torture. McIntosh, being the school for special snowflakes, held a monumental final performance-slash-exhibition-slash-culminating gala-slash-evening of celebration for its students. Which felt like a huge slap in the face by artistic professionals, showing me the kind of work I’d never be capable of matching, since they’d rejected me two years ago. I’d balked when Belén brought it up at the breakfast table, but she’d put her foot down.