It would have been nice, a good thing, if the church services, the preaching and the music had calmed my spirit. But, I was still riled up from the morning's

fracas with Adam, and I drifted into my own thoughts mostly, instead of paying attention. I was actually busily writing, albeit in my mind, on the

next article I was going to do for the school newspaper.

I nearly fell asleep on the ride back home, riding again in Clare's car. The sun was so warm coming in the window, and it felt so so good to close

my eyes. When the car came to a stop, I was sort of awake, but still not moving.

"Peach," Brian said, and I opened my eyes to see the car door open, and him leaning in slightly. "We're home."

"Okay," I said, and sighed, getting out.

"You look pale," he said, after I was out and standing beside him.

"It's sunny out," I said. "How can you tell if I look pale? Do I look like a vampire?"

Brian didn't answer that. He just kept looking at me. That's when I thought he was going to say something else. Like lecture me for

the evening or for the morning. This was it. I knew it.

Instead he shook his head, and tugged one of my curls gently, and then went on into the house.

7

Lunch had been simmering in the crockpot while we were at church. It was roast beef, with carrots and potatoes, and rolls that Hannah had pulled

out of the freezer and warmed up. It was good and I ate my meal and drank a glass of milk, beginning to start feeling better. It was while we were still eating

that there was a knocking on the front door.

"I'll get it," Guthrie said. He got up and headed towards the door.

I realized that it was likely Kenny arriving. I got up to take my plate to the sink. "I think it's Kenny," I said, innocently enough, in a general

way and not to anybody in particular.

As I would have headed to the living room, Adam reached out and caught my hand.

"Harlie, you have things to do," he said. I got his meaning right off. Homework.

"I'll get everything done," I said. I wanted to get into the living room before Kenny appeared in the kitchen. It would be so embarrassing and I

didn't want Kenny to get uncomfortable or feel unwelcome if he walked in and overheard something.

Adam did not look convinced. He looked stern. "An hour. And then Kenny needs to head home," he said.

"We were going for a ride," I began to protest.

Adam still had hold of my hand, and he stood up. "Kenny goes home in an hour, and then you and I are going to have a talk. Understand?"

I nodded, feeling my face get hot. Again. For the second time that day.

As soon as he let loose of my hand, I went to the living room, nearly running into Guthrie and Kenny.

"Hey," Kenny said.

"Let's go outside," I said, and took his hand, pulling him towards the door.

Once were outside, I kept walking, until we were near the barns.

"What's wrong?" Kenny asked me, when we finally paused walking.

I didn't want to tell Kenny that Adam had basically said he needed to be gone soon. I shook my head, blinking back tears.

"It's Adam," I managed to say.

"Oh. He mad cause we were late gettin' home last night?" Kenny guessed.

"A little."

"Cause if that's it, I'll go talk to him," Kenny offered.

"No," I said, catching at his hand again. "It's not just that-he's just being-" I hesitated. "He's being harsher than normal."

"Oh," Kenny said, again. He looked worried.

"He says I've got to do all my stuff, so we don't have time to even go for a ride."

"That's okay," Kenny said. "Let's just walk, then." He seemed so sweet right then. I nodded and we went walking into the pasture.

I wasn't sure what time we headed out for our walk, and I didn't tell Kenny to keep an eye on his watch, so I wasn't sure if we'd been

gone for less than an hour, exactly an hour, or maybe a little more than an hour.

When we walked back up towards the house, Adam and Hannah were sitting on the front porch in the swing. They both had glasses of iced tea in

their hands, and there was a pitcher setting on the porch table beside the swing.

When we came walking up to stand at the base of the porch stairs, both Hannah and Adam said hello to Kenny, and Adam asked

about Kenny's dad, and they spoke about the new stop sign that had been put on the corner of Taylor and 4th street in Murphys.

"I wanted to explain about last night," Kenny said, and even though I squeezed his hand in protest, he kept talking. "There was a train

sittin' on the tracks, and I thought it'd take more time to go the long way around, than just to sit there and wait. Sorry about gettin' Harlie

home late and all."

I couldn't help focusing on Adam to see what his reaction was going to be to Kenny's statement. Kenny was being respectful and humble, so I thought

surely Adam would be nice about it.

"Harlie told me about the train," Adam said. "That crossing's known for that."

Kenny nodded, and I could tell he was relieved by Adam's response.

"Well," Kenny said, "I'd better be gettin' home."

"Tell your parents hello," Hannah said.

"I will." Kenny looked at me, and squeezed my hand that he was still holding. "I'll see you tomorrow," he told me.

I nodded, and he gave me an understanding look. As he was driving down the driveway, I walked up a couple of the porch steps, and then leaned

against a porch railing, sort of looking at Adam.

"There's some tea left there," Hannah told me, pointing to the pitcher on the table.

"No, thanks," I said.

Hannah patted Adam's knee, and stood up. "It's about time for Isaac to wake up from his nap. I better get his lunch ready." Usually after we get home

from church, Isaac takes a bottle and goes right down for a nap cause he's so tired by then. When he gets up is when he usually eats his lunch. I knew, too, though,

that Hannah was clearing the way so Adam could talk to me.

When she'd gone inside, Adam patted the space beside him on the swing. "Come on and sit down down over here," he said.

I went on up, and took the spot beside him, feeling reluctant and nervous.

Adam wasted no time in beginning. "I feel as though you're gettin' off the track a little bit, sugar," he said.

I felt a bit better that he was addressing me with his pet name for me. Sugar. That meant that he wasn't really angry.

"The school work track?" I asked. "Because that's one test, like I told Crane-"

"That, too," he said. "Although that's not what I really want to talk to you about."

I bit my lip, looking at him.

"You're gettin' real busy lately-and that's a good thing. We want you to have fun, and enjoy your time with your friends. With Kenny. But when you

pack every minute of the weekend full, then you don't have the time to just take it easy. Or to do the things that need to be done."

"I'm young. I'm not supposed to have to take it easy all the time," I said, in faint protest.

"I didn't say it had to be all the time. You do have a busy schedule, though. And, whether you want to hear it or not, having diabetes

causes you to have precautions that other kids your age don't have," he said.

Ah. Here it was. The dreaded diabetes reference.

"Yeah," I said, with sarcasm. "It's so great to be 'special' like that."

When I met his eyes again, he was silent. Just looking at me. Disapproval on his face.

I pressed on, wanting to get him off the topic of my diabetes.

"This weekend was extra busy," I said. "Probably they won't all be like this one."

"Well, I know that for a fact," he said. "Going out on both Friday and Saturday nights for one thing. You need to plan your weekend

and pick one or the other."

"I didn't go out both Friday and Saturday this weekend," I felt compelled to remind.

"Kenny was over Friday night. You went out Saturday night," Adam said, doing his own reminding.

I gave him a shocked look. "You mean if I'm going out on Saturday night, that Kenny can't come over the night before?" I asked.

"How about we say, as long as your grades hold up, that you can go out on either Friday or Saturday night. Kenny can come over either the opposite

night or on Sunday afternoon for a while. However it works out so you get your school work and your chores done, and have some time to

just relax."

"So I have to choose either Friday night or Sunday afternoon for him to come over?" I asked, upset at the thought of not being flexible to do

whatever struck my fancy.

"I don't think that's unreasonable, Harlie," Adam said. Even though he said it nicely enough, I could tell that he wasn't going to budge or give even an inch. He'd

had his mind made up when he had me sit down.

And-it wasn't really unreasonable, I thought, if I would admit it.

"Okay," I said, reluctantly.

"You've got responsibilities around here that are yours and yours alone," he said. "Those are important, too. It should not-will not-be others

doing what's set out for you to do."

I knew he was talking about Ford doing my chores the day before, when I'd wanted to get ready to go shopping and out for the night.

"I don't do that often," I defended myself. The often being shuffling my chores onto someone else.

"If it's because you're sick, or have something really important to do, then that's different, and you know it," Adam said. "But, just because

you want to have more time for fun isn't a good reason."

"Okay," I said, again.

"Alright," he said. He stood up, and picked up the pitcher of iced tea and his glass. "You better get crackin' on that homework."

I nodded in response, staying silent.

Adam paused, looking at me. "I want you to have fun, Sugar, just like I said. I'm just tryin' to rein you in a little bit."

Ranchers. Using an analogy of a horse as an example.

I met his eyes, and nodded. He'd been kind about it, thru his talk with me. I mean-I wished maybe that he wouldn't be so strict, or

that maybe he wouldn't put the limits on Kenny coming over, and all that-but, still, he'd been nice. He hadn't lost his temper or

grounded me for missing curfew or passing off my chores or anything.

I stood up, too, stepping up closer to him. "Thanks for talking to me. I mean-not yelling at me or anything. About being late last night and stuff."

"I understand about the train on the crossing," he said. "And I don't want to have to yell at you. I don't like havin' to correct you, Harlie. It's just

part of the deal."

I nodded again. "I know."

7

I got myself a glass of milk, and spent a few minutes talking to Ford, who was playing a game of checkers with Crane. I didn't really talk to

him, so as not to break his concentration or anything, but I sat on the arm of the couch beside where he was sitting. Crane was sitting in one of the

chairs, and scooted up close to the coffee table where the checker board was set up.

I watched their game for several minutes, drinking my milk, and then, when the big grandfather clock struck two, Ford said, sounding

reluctant, "I've got to get heading back soon."

"Alright, then, because I think I have you beat," Crane said, and made the winning jump over several of Ford's red checkers.

"Man," Ford said, shaking his head. "I didn't see that coming."

Crane laughed and began to pick up the checkers and the board, putting them away in the box.

Ford stood up, stretching. I stood up, too, next to him.

"I'm sorry I didn't get anything baked for you," I told him.

"Yeah, no time for your favorite brother," Ford said. I knew Ford was joking. Obviously. Still-since I was so tired, and not in the best

of moods, it still stung.

"Sorry," I said, really softly, feeling suddenly weepy.

Ford got a look of startled shock on his face, and said, "Har-" and then paused. He sort of looked around, and then said, "Let's go

upstairs."

He gave me a push towards the stairs, and I went, with him behind me. Upstairs, to my room. I went to my bed and sat down on the edge,

and he came and sat beside me.

"I didn't mean anything. I was just teasing you," he said.

"I know."

"What's wrong, then? You still ticked off at Adam?" he asked.

"No. Not really. I just-" I leaned into his shoulder. "I haven't even got to spend any time with you this weekend at all."

Ford didn't point out the obvious. That I was the one who had not been available to hang out with him. Or to bake him any lemon bars.

He could have pointed that out to me. But, he didn't.

"Do you think I could come up to see you some weekend?" I asked him. "Like we talked about last month?"

"Sure. We can plan something," Ford said.

"Okay," I said, and the thought of that, visiting Ford at college, made me feel better. Lighter.

Instead of going downstairs to say goodbye to Ford when he left, I gave him a hug while he was in my room, and said goodbye there.

By now it was after three, and I began on my homework. I sat on the floor, leaning against my bed, and muddled thru anatomy and the psychology

worksheet I had. Guthrie came in, asking what I thought on a couple of his English grammar questions. He stayed and finished it in my room,

and we worked until supper time. Nancy and Evan had come for supper, and it was Nancy who came upstairs to tell the two of us

to come to the supper table.

Guthrie and I went down, and the table was already set, and everybody was taking their places. Clare was setting a large platter of fried

chicken in the center of the table.

"I wish Ford could have waited a while longer to leave," Hannah was saying. "He's going to miss out on a good meal."

"He'll be thinking about your fried chicken when he's eatin' that dorm food tonight," Brian said.

Hannah smiled at Brian for the compliment, then said, "It looked like he's lost weight. Did you all think so?"

"He's fine, Hannah," Adam said.

"I don't think he's lost that much weight," Crane was saying.

"I thought he looked thinner, too," Clare said.

They talked about Ford for a few more minutes, until Adam said, from his end of the table.

"You two get your school work finished?"

He was saying it to both Guthrie and I, but I somehow felt that it was meant more for me.

Guthrie nodded his head in answer, forking another piece of chicken from the platter. "Yep," he said. "Didn't have anything much besides

English to do."

Lucky you, I thought to myself. Why was I overloaded with work when Guthrie barely had any? In reality, I knew why, most likely. Guthrie had probably

done his science already, before today. That's his favorite subject and it's easy for him to do. So, if all he'd had left was English, then of course he

was finished. I ignored the voice of my conscience in my head that told me it was my own fault that I was so far behind.

I was taking a drink of milk, and hadn't answered Adam, and he said, pointedly, "Harlie? How about you?"

"I'm finished with anatomy, and my psychology," I said.

He was looking at me, obviously waiting, I knew, for a complete answer.

"I still have trig to do," I said. Just the thought of it made me want to smash something.

"Worksheet or quiz coming up?" Crane asked.

"Both," I said, reluctantly.

"Come down if you need help," he said.

I nodded, and said, "Okay."

I finished eating and put my plate beside the sink. The only thing I had to be glad about right at that moment was that I wasn't on the

dishwashing list for tonight.

I went upstairs, and got out my trigonometry homework, slowly working several of the problems. I shoved the book away, frustrated.

I gathered up the book, and the worksheet, and my pencil, and went downstairs. Crane was sitting on the couch, talking to Brian. Nobody else was

in the living room. I could hear voices outside on the front porch, and laughter.

I paused beside the end of the couch, waiting until they took a break in their conversation, both of them looking at me.

"Can you help?" I asked Crane, coming right to the point.

"You haven't been up there even fifteen minutes yet, Harlie," Crane said. "Did you try?"

"It has to be longer than that," I protested. "Yes, I tried."

"Well," Brian said, standing up, "I'm no good at trig, so I'll leave you two to do it." He went out, letting the porch door shut with a clack.

"Sit down," Crane said, gesturing to the spot beside him.

I sat down, all my stuff on my lap.

"Let's see what you've got," Crane said, tapping my math book with his fingers.

I sighed, and took out the worksheet, handing it to him, and then opening my book.

Crane looked over the ones that I'd finished, and said, "Which one are you having trouble with?"

"All of them," I said, immediately.

"Harlie."

I gave him a glum look. "It's true."

"Is it because you're tired that you're feeling like this?" he asked.

I didn't want Crane to get on the 'you're tired because you're doing too much' train that Adam was on with me. So I shrugged, and

said, "Some of it's hard to understand."

"You knew it was going to be a tough class," he reminded me.

"Yeah. I know."

Crane looked at the worksheet again, and then handed it back over to me. "Do these two again," he told me.

"Which two?" I asked, irritated.

"These," he said, pointing to the first two problems on the page.

"Ugh," I said, with a huff.

"You can do it," he said, in encouragement.

"Obviously not," I countered. "If I could, then they'd be right, and I wouldn't have to ask you for help all the time."

Crane reached out and took the worksheet from me, and also the open book I held, and even took the pencil out of my hand.

"Go on and take a break," he said.

I turned to give him a surprised look. "Seriously?"

"Yes. Seriously. Thirty minutes. Then we're back at this."

"Okay," I said, and scrambled up and headed towards the back door before he changed his mind.

7