Rocky Road by Rose Kent Read Free Book Online Page A

whatchacallit, leg prosthesis. Jordan got to pull it apart and snap it together like he was assembling a real live robot.”
    Ma stuffed the empty grocery bags in a drawer and looked at me. “Tell me about
your
day.”
    I gave her a thumbs-down since my mouth was still full.
    “Did you make any friends?”
    “No, but I might’ve earned myself a new enemy,” I said as Pete’s face flashed in my mind.
    “What happened?”
    “Nothing important.”
    If Ma heard about my visit to Mr. Godfrey’s office, she’d start in how I had to resist that type of feisty behavior that was in my genes thanks to Pop. How I had to count to ten more and not let others get under my skin. Maybe Pop shouldn’t have slammed doors and punched holes in the walls after a few beers, but that wasn’t me, and I didn’t like her always bringing it up.
    Ma started massaging my shoulders. “I heard on
Oprah
that it takes a whole year to get your life back after a move, honey. Give Schenectady a chance.”
    Ma’s fingers felt nice rubbing my tired muscles. All those years slicing meat behind the deli counter had left her with strong hands.
    “I’m trying to give this place a chance,” I said. “But I think you should give Jordan and me a
choice
the next time you drag us cross-country.”
    “Leaving San Antonio made a lot of sense, Tess. I’m not about to wrap all my yesterdays in a fluffy blanket, and neither should you.” Ma sighed and rubbed her eyes. “How about a cold drink while we wait for the potpies? I’ll tell you all about the ice cream shop I’m fixing to buy. It’s got the cutest banana-split sign you ever did see, blinking in the window. And anold-fashioned counter with one of those shiny chrome shake machines!”
    We didn’t have enough money to get the car heater fixed. Or to live in a normal apartment building with other people below age seventy. Buying this ice cream shop felt all wrong. Why hadn’t Ma learned her lesson from the past business flops, never mind the evictions from our house and the two apartments?
    Well, I wasn’t up for her pie-in-the-sky plans and talk tonight. Not after the day Ottawa Creek Middle School dished out.
    I grabbed two more cookies. “Sorry, Ma. I’m skipping dinner,” I said as I left the kitchen.
    No wonder the apartment felt calm. Jordan had dozed off on the futon with his head resting on his stuffed turtle. I unlaced his sneakers and covered him with a throw blanket I’d knitted years ago.
    In the bedroom I pulled out my bag of lanyard and started braiding a two-tone belt, light blue and dark blue. All blue, like how I felt. Here I was in a new state, a new apartment, and a new school, but déjà vu feelings kept running from my heart to my head like a ticker tape. Nothing had changed, except the weather, and that had taken a nosedive. I tried to imagine how it might feel to be stretched out on a tropical beach with a warm breeze blowing, surrounded by friendly kids sipping refreshing smoothies and talking to me.
    Without Ma’s latest business scheme. Without money worries, and far away from the slippery snow in Schenectady.

    Two hours later I awoke, surprised that Ma hadn’t come knocking on the bedroom door insisting I eat dinner. My stomach was rumbling, so I walked into the kitchen. Maybe I’d nibble at the chicken-potpie crust.
    Ma was sitting on a stool, slumped over with her face resting on her forearms on the counter. The three potpies sat on plates, untouched. She was out cold and snoring.
    I should’ve seen it coming: Shooting Stars. That’s the only time Ma snores.
    With my arms hooked under her armpits, I dragged her out of the kitchen—past Jordan, who was still asleep on the futon—and into the bedroom. I tried my best to be gentle, but I knocked a small lamp over in the living room as I passed. I lifted her up onto the bed, took off her shoes and socks, and covered her with the blanket.
    I left my backpack by the nightstand, grabbed a blanket and pillow