“Yes, but arson?” Pat asks, still disbelieving. “Does the punishment really fit the crime in this case?”
I swallow hard.
“Well, it hardly counts as arson,” I prevaricate. “I mean, arson is like setting a whole building on fire or something. This was just a practical joke or an innocent attempt at payback—"
Pat interrupts me.
“Payback? Practical joke? You almost got people killed. That’s no joke.”
“Mom—” I begin, but Pat’s not having it. She shakes her head with disappointment, and my shoulders slump as I’m reduced to being about two inches tall.
“This is starting to become a pattern of behavior, Hadley, and I don’t like it one bit. You know that this isn’t the first time that you’ve gotten into trouble with the law, and I never thought a daughter of mine would stoop so low.”
“Yes, but it’s better this time?” I venture. “I mean, last year they wanted to charge me as an accessory to murder, but this time, it’s just arson, right?” I chirp brightly. Even I can tell that was the wrong thing to say because my mom’s face falls even further.
“Do you hear yourself?” Pat asks in a slow voice, staring at me as if she doesn’t even know who I am. “You’re comparing two very serious crimes, and asking me to acknowledge the lesser of two evils. Unfortunately, I can’t do that.”
“Yes, but the murder thing wasn’t my fault,” I say quickly. “I had no idea they were going to burgle the place, much less kill someone. I was just in the back of the car when things went completely haywire, and—”
Patricia’s had enough.
“Your life is out of control Hadley, and I’m not going to get into it again. Something has to change.”
I stop, the air between us quivering.
“Yes, I know,” I say in a meek voice. “Should I go back to school or something?”
Pat snorts because we both know that school is not an option. I’ve never been academic, and classes would be utterly pointless when it comes to keeping me out of trouble.
“I can’t keep bailing you out, and you can’t stay here anymore,” Pat says in a firm voice.
“You didn’t have to bail me out from anywhere this time,” I say quickly. “I know how to handle the legal process.”
My mom shakes her head, pinching the bridge of her nose like she has a massive headache.
“No, you’re missing the point, Hadley. This life isn’t doing you any good, and Manhattan is too close. The city is full of crime and you’ve clearly fallen in with some loose folks and made some very bad decisions. I think it would be best if you lived in a quiet town without temptation, and where the Holy Spirit reigns supreme. There, you can focus on improving yourself while contemplating the future.”
I stare at her.
“Um, where is this place?” I ask. “Staten Island? Deeper into Jersey?”
Patricia shakes her head.
“No, Hadley. I’m sending you to live with my brother back in Missouri.”
I’m totally confused. I know my mom grew up on a farm in Missouri, but who’s this brother she’s talking about? Neither she nor I have been to Missouri in decades, and this person is a myth as far as I’m concerned. After a few moments of thinking, I tilt my head my head to one side.“
“Who?”
Patricia nods.
“My brother, Frank. The one who runs the family farm back in Missouri.”
“Frank?” I blink. “Really?”
I don’t even know if I blinked the second time because I’m too busy trying to put the pieces together. I remember visiting Missouri once when I was just a child, and now that I think a little harder, I can sort-of remember meeting a man named Frank. But I don’t have a visual. He’s more like a shadow with big shoulders and indistinct features.
“Yes, my adopted brother Frank,” Patricia says, somewhat impatiently now. “We don’t communicate much, but he is my brother and he still operates the family farm. He’s got plenty of space in that big house of his, and you won’t be able to get up to trouble in Parson, Missouri.”
Suddenly, I realize what’s happening and bolt up straight on the couch.
“You can’t do this!” I protest. “I’m a grown woman, Mom. I’m twenty-five years old, for crying out loud, so it’s insane that you’re trying to pack me off to live with some long-lost brother in the middle of nowhere. This is sheer insanity.”
Patricia merely shakes her head.
“It’s not insanity. Hadley, you may be twenty-five but you have the self-control of a ten year old girl. You have no job. You live with your mother, rent-free, and all I’m saying is that the ride is over, and you’re going to Missouri to get a taste of the country life. Hopefully, Frank and some heavy labor will whip you into shape. If not, we’ll have to explore other options,” she states in a firm tone. “I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is.”