Demons are Forever: Confessions of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom by Julie Kenner Read Free Book Online Page B

you. I need to chat with Father Ben for a few minutes.”
    From the depth of her sigh, you would have thought I’d told her she had to repeat junior high.
    “It’s just for a few minutes, Allie. Have you got anything better to do?”
    One shoulder lifted, and she scuffed her toe in the gravel. “Dunno. Why can’t I go with you?”
    My heart did that pitter-patter number as I wondered just how much of my secret life Allie suspected. After all, wasn’t it pretty much genetically encoded for teenagers to completely discount everything their parents tell them? If she thought I was still in the demon-hunting biz, then it would make sense that I’d have a priest as a contact.
    And even though I was experiencing a certain amount of guilt over the lie I’d told her, I still didn’t come clean with my daughter. I wasn’t ready, and I suppose I was still clinging to the hope that she was simply being your average whiny teenager, desperately seeking an excuse to avoid babysitting her toddler brother.
    “I’m only talking to him about the archives,” I said. “Nothing interesting at all. And Timmy would be bored out of his mind,” I added, giving him another push on the swing in response to his ear-splitting scream for attention.
    “Just archives?”
    “That’s it,” I said. “And I seriously doubt you want to give up cheerleader practice to help me sort through and inventory bug-infested boxes of records. But if you do ...”
    I let the offer hang out there, reasonably sure she would run far and fast. If I was wrong, of course, I’d have to amend my agenda for today’s discussion with Ben. The upside, though, would be that I’d have a helper for my deathly dull committee duty.
    I’d signed on before the summer, and even though the project was supposed to have been finished by autumn, it was still dragging on—the universal nature of volunteer work. You would have thought that after years in the PTA I would have expected it.
    She held on to the chains that supported the swing, then bent backwards, letting out a low, suffering groan as she did. Her long hair brushed the gravel, and I saw her chest rise and fall as she sighed. Honestly, I couldn’t tell if she was frustrated or practicing to join a contortionist group. I also couldn’t tell what she was thinking. As hard as it was for me to admit, I could no longer look at her face and see what was going on in her head. As life skills go, I suppose she’d learned from the best. I am, after all, a master at lying to my family.
    “Allie?”
    She lifted herself back up into a sitting position, then hopped off the swing. “Okay. Fine. I’ll stay here with Timmy.” She held out her hands. “Keys?”
    I hesitated, and she noticed.
    “In case I need to change Timmy,” she said. “I mean, come on. You think I’m going to take the van and go joyriding or something?”
    I didn’t, but I also had never expected her to sneak out of the house after I’d told her in no uncertain terms that she couldn’t go out. But she had. And the consequences had been bad, bad, bad.
    She rolled her eyes, apparently able to read my thoughts. “I got it, Mom. Lesson learned.”
    “Good kid. And since I know it’s a huge pain to watch your brother, why don’t we swing by the mall before we go home?”
    “Are you buying?” she asked, perking up. “Cuz I’ve totally blown my allowance.”
    “I was thinking we’d stay in the parking lot,” I admitted. “You can apply for your learner’s permit soon. If you want to practice a little, I’ll sit quietly in the passenger seat and try not to freak out.”
    “Yeah?” she asked, eyes bright.
    “Why not?”
    “Thanks, Mom,” she said, rewarding me with a rare hug. “And it’s not that much of a pain to watch him,” she admitted, scooting over to swing-pushing position. “As brother’s go, he’s pretty okay.”
    As kids go, both of mine are more than okay, and I felt a nice little tug of mommy pride as I left them in