The rest of the weekend passed in sort of a haze for me. On Sunday I had every intention of begging off of going to church. I

just didn't think I could manage to sit still, and appear to be listening to Pastor Curry's sermon, when I had so many thoughts

running thru my head. Besides, I needed to do something important. When I went downstairs to breakfast, dressed

in tattered jeans and sweatshirt, Hannah stopped pouring orange juice in glasses to turn and give me her full attention.

"You're not dressed," she said. "Hurry up. We're running late today."

"I'm dressed," I said, casually, picking up my filled glass, and taking a drink of juice.

"Now, Harlie," Hannah said, giving me her 'mom eye'.

"I've got homework."

"Which you can do later today," Hannah pointed out.

"I wouldn't be able to keep my mind on anything Pastor Curry says," I pointed out.

"You can try," Hannah said. She had her stubborn look on.

"Please, Hannah? I have stuff to do," I said.

"Not riding, Harlie," Hannah said, sounding distressed as the thought occurred to her. "If you're thinking of horseback riding, with that cast on,

you can think again, because that is not an option. Especially with no one at home. If you were to fall-"

Adam, who'd been standing there listening to the two of us, poured a cup of coffee, and then took a drink.

"Besides homework, what did you have in mind to do if you stayed home?" he asked me casually.

I considered playing dumb, or simply avoiding the question, but I straightened my shoulders, and met his look eye to eye.

"You already know," I said.

"Then say it straight-out," he challenged me.

"I'm going to call and leave Karissa a message. I've been thinking since yesterday what I want to say to her, and I want to do it while

the house is quiet," I said, with determination.

"I don't think you should do that," Hannah protested. "Do you think she should?" she asked, looking at Adam.

"I don't think it's a real good idea, no," Adam said, and took another drink of his coffee.

Into the moment of silence, I said, "I think if I say the right thing to her, she'll drop this whole idea."

"I think you're wrong, Harlie," Hannah said. "I don't think she has any plans to drop it, no matter what you would say. She's-"

Hannah hesitated, and I was horrified to see her eyes fill with tears. "She's not a rational woman!" She turned her head, and

busied herself pulling toast out of the toaster, and putting more slices of bread in.

I went immediately to Hannah's side, putting my arm around her waist. "Don't cry, Hannah! Please."

Hannah took a deep breath, and I could tell she was trying to get control of her emotions.

"This whole thing is just-" she waved her hands, searching for the right words, "just unfathomable!"

Now I felt like crying, too. And apparently, Adam could tell that. Like most men, he didn't want two emotional females on his

hands. He stepped closer, and set his cup of coffee on the table. He wrapped one arm around Hannah, and the other arm around

me.

"There's no point in getting all worked up like this," he said. "Once we talk with a lawyer, I think we'll all feel better."

Hannah nodded, wiping at her eyes. "You're right."

She looked at me. "Please get changed and come to church, Harlie."

"Okay," I agreed, reluctantly. I didn't want to go, but I couldn't deny Hannah when she looked so upset.

"I need to get Isaac dressed," Hannah said. "Will you finish pouring the juice, hon?"

"I can manage that, I think," Adam said wryly.

Hannah went up the back stairs. Adam still had his arm around my shoulders, and as I sighed, saying, "Guess I'll go get

dressed, then," he hooked both arms around the back of my neck, turning me so that I was facing him, standing close.

"I don't want you to call Karissa, Harlie," he said, looking serious.

"I'll just leave her a message. I won't actually talk to her," I explained.

"I don't want you to do that, either."

"But, why?" I protested.

"At this point, the less said to her, the better."

"What does that mean?" I asked, impatiently.

"Anything you say from here on out to her, well, that's like fueling the fire. It could make things worse. I don't want that to happen."

"I don't want to make things worse," I said, to the center of his chest.

"Look at me," he ordered, and I did, meeting his eye.

"Hear what I'm saying. Trust me on this. I'm old, and I know a thing or two," Adam said.

I shook my head at his teasing. "You're not so old," I said.

"Thank you," he said, with a faint smile.

For a moment we regarded each other in silence.

I wanted to argue that I knew Karissa better than he did. That I could talk to her. Convince her that this whole thing was

lunacy. But before I could put any of that into words, Adam said, "I can almost see the wheels in your mind turnin'."

I could hear brothers heading towards the kitchen, making lots of noise. I attempted to dislodge myself from

Adam's hold, but he wouldn't let go. I looked back at him again.

"I do not want you to call her. Got it?" he restated.

His tone was firm. Unchangeable. His mind was made up.

"I guess," I sighed, unhappily.

As Evan and Guthrie charged into the kitchen, followed by Crane, Adam said, "Try again," to me.

I met his eye, and said, more respectfully, "Yes, Adam."

He turned me loose, and smacked the seat of my jeans.

"Much better," he said.

7

On Monday morning at the breakfast table, I was hit by another dose of reality that had not yet occurred to me.

That being, that lawyers cost money. Lots of money.

It started when Crane was giving Guthrie and I money for school lunches for the week. After that, in the flurry of everybody

eating, and talking over one another, the subject of the water bill came up.

More specifically, who it was that was using too much water in the house.

"You kids seriously need to watch how long of a shower you're taking," Crane was saying. "The water bill is thru the roof ridiculous."

"It's not me," Guthrie protested, around his bite of waffle.

"It's sure as heck not me," Evan said. "There's never enough hot water, no matter when I try to take one."

As accusing eyes came to rest on me, I shook my head. "Not me, either. I'm in and out, seven minutes tops."

"Seven minutes!" Evan hooted, as if that was the most outrageous thing he'd ever heard. "It would take seven minutes or longer just for

you to get that mass of hair wet. Not to mention all the time it takes to shampoo it, and then rinse it."

I gave him a haughty glare across the table. "You sure seem knowledgeable about hair care. Maybe you could pick up some

work at Frieda's Hair Shack."

Instead of getting mad, Evan just laughed, and went back to eating his waffles.

"Everybody just needs to make an effort to shorten up shower time," Crane went on.

"While we're on the subject of wasting money," Brian interjected, "what's up with leavin' on all the downstairs lights? We came down this mornin'

and every light was on. Somebody had a midnight snack, and forgot to turn the lights off."

"That was NOT me," Guthrie said.

"Me, either," I added.

"That might actually have been me," Clare spoke up. "I came down to get some milk. I might have left some lights on."

Guthrie snickered. "Now you're in trouble, Clare," he said, with a grin.

"I'm sorry," Clare said, looking properly contrite.

"All I'm doing is suggesting that we all try to watch it, as far as the utilities go," Crane said.

Adam, who'd been silent up until now, spoke up. "We can all do that. Right, kids?" he asked Guthrie and I.

"Yep," Guthrie said.

"Okay," I agreed.

Adam turned his gaze onto Clare, and said teasingly, "You too, Clare. Right?" He grinned at Clare.

"Yes, big brother," Clare told him, and smiled back at him.

It was light-hearted, and fine, and not really a lecture about wasting money. That was, until they began to talk about names of

lawyers, and who was going to call, and how much the initial consultation might cost.

"I've heard about John Tetwiler," Brian was saying. "He's supposed to be real good."

"I thought he specialized mostly in divorce cases," Crane offered up.

"Family law, I'm pretty sure," Brian told him.

"He's high-priced, I've heard," Adam put in.

That's when I started feeling a knot again in my stomach. I put my fork down, and pushed my plate away, still half-unfinished.

"What's wrong?" Hannah asked me.

"Nothing. I've got to gather up my stuff for school," I said, and left the table. I went into the living room, and started shoving my books

that were on Crane's desk into my backpack. My eyes were caught, and rested on the open phone book, turned to attorneys in the

Modesto area. A couple of the ads had been circled.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder, and went out onto the front porch, where I sat down on the top step, gathering Clarence up into

my arms. As fat as he is, Clarence groaned as I hoisted him up.

I heard the screen door squeak behind me. Hoping it was Guthrie, so we could get going, I turned to look. It wasn't.

I turned back, and went back to petting Clarence.

Adam sat down beside me. He reached over to scratch Clarence behind his ear.

"You didn't eat much," he said.

I shrugged, not answering.

"You alright?" he asked me.

"Just dandy," I said, and pressed my face into Clarence's fur.

"I know that's not the truth," Adam observed dryly.

I shrugged again.

"The breakfast table isn't the place for us to be discussing things like lawyers, and such," Adam said. "We weren't thinkin', I guess."

"It has to be talked about. At breakfast is just as good a time as any," I said, feeling the worry inside, and trying to sound casual and

brave.

"No," Adam said, in disagreement, and I turned to look at him.

"We'll keep those conversations to ourselves from now on," he said.

"That's not right, though," I objected. "It affects me. I should know what's going on. Who the lawyer is, and all of that."

"You'll know the lawyer, once we decide on one. But there may be some things that you don't need to know," Adam said.

Guthrie chose that moment to come charging out of the house, letting the door slam shut behind him.

"Ready, Har?" he demanded, as he took a bite of a muffin.

"I've been ready," I said, and put Clarence down, and stood up.

I was readjusting my backpack onto my shoulder, as Adam got to his feet, too.

"Hey, now," he said, catching at my arm. "We're gonna get thru this."

"I don't know," I said, doubtfully, feeling as though I wanted to cry.

"Harlie," he said, sounding sad at my doubt.

"I mean it. Karissa is used to getting what she's wants. Even in the journal, Mama wrote about how-" I searched for the right

words. "How hard she was. She decides on something, and she gets it!"

"We have a little bit of stubbornness around here, too, you know," Adam said. "Remember?"

"Yes, I know," I said. "But-"

Guthrie, who'd been hanging back, listening to Adam and I talk, now said, "Look, sorry, but we need to get goin'."

"I'm ready," I told him.

"Have a good day," Adam said.

"I'll try," I managed.

7