Kelsey licked her ice cream. She didn’t seem to get it. But then, she was only nine. Maybe Barbie was expecting too much. And she needed more. Her ice cream was a bother because if she didn’t keep licking, it would drip. And Barbie didn’t want to lick right then.
“If your father fights this, you might be asked some questions,” Barbie said. “And we need to be very careful about what answers you give.”
There were moral issues. Her lawyer had been very specific about them. If she exposed her daughter to drug users in her home, she would not be granted custody of any kind. No one understood that she and Don weren’t really drug users. They were just getting by the best they could, coping with what life handed them.
“’Kay,” Kelsey said, watching as a car pulled up next to them.
Barbie reached for the little girl’s wrist as she raised her cone to her mouth. “This is important, Kelsey, or we won’t get to see each other.”
Kelsey stared at her. “Do I have to lie some more?”
“No!” Barbie hated the confusion of it all. “Lying is bad,” she said. “We just have to be careful not to talk about Don’s lab in the garage.”
“The drugs, you mean.” The child’s voice was harder then Barbie had ever heard it.
“What do you mean? There aren’t any drugs.”
“Kenny told me.”
Damn it! She was going to kill him. She’d told Don they couldn’t trust a kid. But the money was good. And they needed the money. Don had just been accused of stealing from the company he’d been driving for and even though he’d said he hadn’t been, they’d fired him. He’d get loads of work other places, even with another trucking company. He always did. But in the meantime, there were payments to make on his rig, and rent and court costs. And she had to get her hair done and…
“I won’t say anything about the drugs,” Kelsey said. “But you’re going to stop them just as soon as all this gets done, right?”
Ohmygod. Harder and harder. “Right.”
“’Kay, ’cause I really, really hate it.”
Yeah, Barbie did, too.
MEREDITH AND MARK DID discuss the upcoming hearing over a glass of wine while the steaks were cooking. Meredith made sure of it. She felt safer that way. As long as they were working, she didn’t have to worry about being there alone with him. Until Mark dropped his piece of news.
“What does the governing board want with you?” She walked around behind him to the other side of the grill, the light from the porch bathing the darkness that surrounded them. And then strode back. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? If you speak up for me, your job is in jeopardy.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No, I don’t.” She slowed down. Took a sip of wine. “I mean, what can they get you for? There’s nothing in the Due Process Act about dismissal for supporting an employee.”
“No, but there is willful neglect of duty. If they perceive my duty to be supporting the governing board.”
She stopped pacing, stared at the back of his head. “So they are after you because of me.”
“I have no idea what they want,” Mark said. “I just got the summons today, and it said nothing except that they had a matter to discuss with me. I’m meeting with the superintendent next week.”
Before her hearing. Coincidence? Or design?
“I’m cooked if you aren’t there.”
He turned, fork in hand. “I’ll be there.”
His intention meant a lot. Probably more than it should. But she didn’t kid herself into thinking that intention would automatically become action. Particularly if it came down to her job or his.
“Mark, this is serious. I won’t have you losing your job because of me. I’ll quit first. You’re great at what you do.”
He turned, his eyes clear and sure in the dim light. “So are you.”
“The kids need you.”
“And they don’t need you?”