At the words “new friend” Kendra had felt a swift kick of relief. She’d worried about Megan starting over again in a school where most eight-year olds would already have their own special buddies; it seemed she’d had no need to fret. But then at the words “she was late...and her Dad gave her too much,” her nerves prickled a warning.
“So,” she said casually, “what’s your friend’s name?”
“Jodi. She’s my age and she’s got black curly hair...”
But Kendra was no longer listening. She didn’t have to. She knew the rest.
Of all the luck, Megan had to link up with Brodie Spencer’s daughter! If she was anything like her father, she’d be bad news, and likely to lead Megan into all sorts of trouble—
Oh, she was being ridiculous! This was only Megan’s first day at school. She would meet other girls, become friendly with other girls. More suitable girls. Water always found its own level.
“I’ll give you money for her tomorrow,” she said.
“But Mom—”
“You know I don’t like you to borrow. But it was kind of this Jodi to help you out. However, you’ll pay her back in the morning and that’ll be the end of it. All right?”
Megan shrugged. “OK.” She concentrated on eating her muffin. “But I hope I don’t hurt her feelings,” she mumbled. “She’s really nice. And she’s already asked me to come to her house on Saturday afternoon to play.”
“You know you’re not allowed to make that kind of arrangement without discussing it with me first!”
Her tone must have been unusually sharp because Megan’s head shot up, her brown eyes wide with astonishment. “I didn’t! But she’s got a brother and a sister and a dog and a swimming pool and her house seems like it’s just the funnest place to be!”
Kendra sat down at the table.
“Honey,” she said carefully, “don’t be in too much of a hurry to make a special friend. It’s a mistake lots of people make. Take your time, get to know everybody first. And then make up your mind who you like.”
“When you were my age,” Megan challenged, “did your mother pick and choose your friends?”
“I lost my parents when I was six. I’ve told you many times, sweetie, that my grandfather Westmore brought me up. And though he didn’t pick and choose my friends, he did try to make sure that my choices were...the right ones.”
“Well, why don’t we have Jodi over here on Saturday? Then you can see for yourself if she’s a right choice!”
Trapped. She felt trapped. Yet wasn’t what Megan was suggesting a sensible plan? How could she get out of it, without seeming totally unreasonable!
“It’s just Monday,” she said. “Why don’t we wait till the end of the week, see how it goes? Perhaps you’ll meet someone else you’d rather invite here on Saturday.”
“Sure.” Megan reached for the bottle of orange juice. “Let’s wait till Friday.”
Kendra heaved a sigh of relief.
But it was short-lived.
“I can tell you now, though,” Megan said as she popped off the lid and stuck a straw into the bottle, “that I won’t be meeting anybody I’ll like better than Jodi Spencer!”
The wall phone rang before Kendra could come up with a response. Pushing back her chair, she reached for the receiver. “Westmore residence.”
“Good afternoon, Ms. Westmore. This is Mitzi, at Lakeview Construction. Someone will be coming out tomorrow morning to talk with you about your new kitchen. Will eight-thirty be too early?”
“No, eight-thirty will be fine. Thanks.”
She hung up.
“Finished your snack?” she asked Megan.
“Yes, I’m done.”
“Let’s get our bikes then and cycle down to the school. I want to be sure we have your route all mapped out because I won’t be able to drive you in the morning. I have to be here, to talk to the workman from Lakeview Construction.”
“Full fat!” The hem of Hayley Spencer’s shortie robe fluttered around her sun-browned thighs as she swirled around from the fridge, half-gallon milk jug held aloft. Rolling her eyes, she set the jug on the breakfast table. “I’m trying to lose weight and the man buys me full fat milk!”
She lowered herself into her chair and pouring bran flakes into a blue-rimmed bowl, called after Brodie, who was headed for the door, “I told Ditsy Mitzi fat-free! Why don’t you fire the woman and hire somebody who can take a simple message!”
Brodie paused in the doorway and looked round with an apologetic grin. “Mitzi did mention it... and you know damned well she’s not ditsy—she just looks ditsy! The fault is mine. I guess I had other things on my mind yesterday.” Like the Westmore woman! “It won’t happen again—”
He stepped aside smartly as Jodi and her brother bowled by in tandem, Jodi in pretty pink dungarees and a candy-striped blouse, Jack in a grungy gray T-shirt and baggy shorts. The boy had combed his black hair in a middle part and plastered it to his skull with foul-smelling gunk. Brodie’s nostrils quivered, but he bit back a dry comment. He knew only too well how much Jack loathed his unruly curls. He had, too, when he’d been that age—too young to know that when he became a teenager, girls would find his hair irresistible! His lips twitched at the memory...
“Morning, kids,” he said.
“Morning, Dad.” Jodi threw him a cheery smile.
“Yo.” Jack had already thrown himself onto a chair and was grabbing his favorite cereal packet.
“How come you’re dressed so fine?” Jodi’s gaze flicked over him even as she reached for a bowl. “Aren’t you going in to the yard this morning?”
“He’s going to the Westmore place.” Hayley’s lovely cornflower blue eyes had the same inquisitive glint as Jodi’s, but added to that was a speculative gleam as she looked at his emerald polo shirt and neatly pressed chinos.
“If you’re going out there,” Jodi said, “will you do me a favor, Dad?”
Brodie glanced at his watch. “Look, I’ve gotta run—”
“There’s a new girl in my class. I forgot to tell you last night She’s Megan Westmore. She’s got no brothers or sisters so I asked her to come over on Saturday afternoon. She said she’d ask her mom. But you can ask her today!”
Hayley frowned. “Jodi, you know Saturday afternoon is a family time for us.”
“If you’ve already asked her,” Brodie said, “we’ll have to follow up on it.”
Hayley’s slender shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Yes, I suppose...”
But Brodie could feel her disapproval emanating from across the kitchen. He glanced at his watch. He should really be out of here!
He strode to the table and leaning over Hayley, planted a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “Don’t worry, Hayle, her mother probably won’t let her come.”
As he left, he caught himself glancing around the kitchen—assessingly; something he hadn’t done in a very long time. The big square room was bright and cheerful and airy...and shabby. He’d always liked it that way...but this was undoubtedly a house where things were neglected.
From the beginning, he’d wanted to hire a housekeeper, but Hayley wouldn’t