nosiness, and her stupid advice. How do you think I feel?”
“How do you feel?” Francie looked up from the pregnant teapot shape emerging between her hands.
Francie’s fingers looked so competent, so certain. Pippa longed to make those buoyant shapes out of clay. One day during Pippa’s first winter, Francie started to teach her to throw pots, but Pippa had been impossibly clumsy. They laughed so hard during the first lesson and had so much fun that Pippa thought maybe they would become real friends.
“I’m not sure,” she said to the back of Francie’s head. Mostly she still felt numb. “I’m worried about this thing on my ankle, and how I can dance at the solstice. About keeping my baby. And I’m lonely, I guess.”
“Lonely? We’re your family.”
“No one in this so-called family has tried to help me with this house arrest. No one will even talk about Abby.” Pippa wished she felt better, getting that off her chest. Instead, now she felt lonely and scared. She scooped a still-soft cookie off the metal sheet with the spatula, pulling it into two pieces. She held half out to Francie.
Francie opened her mouth for the cookie, then touched Pippa’s hand, leaving two earth-colored fingerprints.
“Thanks,” Francie said. “We make the best cookies in town.” She let the wheel slow, then used the wire with small wooden handles at both ends to separate the teapot from the metal surface.
“And the healthiest. Would you believe that nurse this morning tried to teach me about wholesome eating? She probably scarfs down meat and all sorts of processed crap and calls it a healthy diet.”
“Makes sense they’d send a carnivore. But what do you expect from a nurse working for the cops?” Francie smoothed the rim of the teapot with a wet chamois cloth, then lifted the glistening pot onto the drying shelf.
“She’s not that bad, doesn’t actually work for the cops. She kind of got under my skin.” Pippa grinned. “Like a chigger.” Francie looked blank, started centering a small lump of clay for the teapot spout. Right, they didn’t have chiggers in Massachusetts.
At least Liz grew up in Virginia, and knew about things like chiggers and sweetshrub and copperheads hiding in autumn leaves. They didn’t talk much on Pioneer Street about where they came from. Pippa knew few details about Tian’s old life, except that he and Marshall had been in opposing gangs in Newark until something awful happened, something to do with Tian’s little sister and the bandana Marshall always wore. But occasionally, when it was just her and Liz in the storefront and business was slow, they would trade crazy stories, remembering the good parts of growing up in the south. Or the simple parts, like chiggers.
“The nurse wasn’t too bad,” Pippa said again. “Besides.” She stopped talking and concentrated on transferring the fragile cookies to the bowl.
“Besides what?”
“None of you guys seem interested in helping me get out of this shackle for the solstice.” Pippa placed the spatula carefully on the counter, lining it up next to the cookie bowl, and finally looked right at Francie. “Much as the idea makes me queasy, I think I’m going to need her help.”
“Be careful.” Francie removed her hands and let the clay spin alone. “I didn’t rescue your sorry butt from Lyman Street so you could cozy up to some nurse spy. Don’t you forget it, Pippa. She’s not one of us.”
6 ~ Sam
Sam only half-heard the first beep of the Special Ed bus. He had spent all afternoon trying to breech the cyber-defenses of a university admissions office for a client who suspected racial bias in his law school rejection. Sam was supposed to prove discrimination, but the firewall was tougher than he expected.
When the horn sounded a second time, louder and longer, he scooted his desk chair over the pine floorboards to the second floor window. Most days, Emily zipped out the front door to meet Zoe before Mr. Gonzalez
“How do you feel?” Francie looked up from the pregnant teapot shape emerging between her hands.
Francie’s fingers looked so competent, so certain. Pippa longed to make those buoyant shapes out of clay. One day during Pippa’s first winter, Francie started to teach her to throw pots, but Pippa had been impossibly clumsy. They laughed so hard during the first lesson and had so much fun that Pippa thought maybe they would become real friends.
“I’m not sure,” she said to the back of Francie’s head. Mostly she still felt numb. “I’m worried about this thing on my ankle, and how I can dance at the solstice. About keeping my baby. And I’m lonely, I guess.”
“Lonely? We’re your family.”
“No one in this so-called family has tried to help me with this house arrest. No one will even talk about Abby.” Pippa wished she felt better, getting that off her chest. Instead, now she felt lonely and scared. She scooped a still-soft cookie off the metal sheet with the spatula, pulling it into two pieces. She held half out to Francie.
Francie opened her mouth for the cookie, then touched Pippa’s hand, leaving two earth-colored fingerprints.
“Thanks,” Francie said. “We make the best cookies in town.” She let the wheel slow, then used the wire with small wooden handles at both ends to separate the teapot from the metal surface.
“And the healthiest. Would you believe that nurse this morning tried to teach me about wholesome eating? She probably scarfs down meat and all sorts of processed crap and calls it a healthy diet.”
“Makes sense they’d send a carnivore. But what do you expect from a nurse working for the cops?” Francie smoothed the rim of the teapot with a wet chamois cloth, then lifted the glistening pot onto the drying shelf.
“She’s not that bad, doesn’t actually work for the cops. She kind of got under my skin.” Pippa grinned. “Like a chigger.” Francie looked blank, started centering a small lump of clay for the teapot spout. Right, they didn’t have chiggers in Massachusetts.
At least Liz grew up in Virginia, and knew about things like chiggers and sweetshrub and copperheads hiding in autumn leaves. They didn’t talk much on Pioneer Street about where they came from. Pippa knew few details about Tian’s old life, except that he and Marshall had been in opposing gangs in Newark until something awful happened, something to do with Tian’s little sister and the bandana Marshall always wore. But occasionally, when it was just her and Liz in the storefront and business was slow, they would trade crazy stories, remembering the good parts of growing up in the south. Or the simple parts, like chiggers.
“The nurse wasn’t too bad,” Pippa said again. “Besides.” She stopped talking and concentrated on transferring the fragile cookies to the bowl.
“Besides what?”
“None of you guys seem interested in helping me get out of this shackle for the solstice.” Pippa placed the spatula carefully on the counter, lining it up next to the cookie bowl, and finally looked right at Francie. “Much as the idea makes me queasy, I think I’m going to need her help.”
“Be careful.” Francie removed her hands and let the clay spin alone. “I didn’t rescue your sorry butt from Lyman Street so you could cozy up to some nurse spy. Don’t you forget it, Pippa. She’s not one of us.”
6 ~ Sam
Sam only half-heard the first beep of the Special Ed bus. He had spent all afternoon trying to breech the cyber-defenses of a university admissions office for a client who suspected racial bias in his law school rejection. Sam was supposed to prove discrimination, but the firewall was tougher than he expected.
When the horn sounded a second time, louder and longer, he scooted his desk chair over the pine floorboards to the second floor window. Most days, Emily zipped out the front door to meet Zoe before Mr. Gonzalez
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