“Like what? Do you mind this third degree?”
Terri smiled and shook her head. She thought it was a good sign when someone you wanted to be friends with wanted to know all about you. “I do cleaning, and fix suppers—things like that.”
“Is there anything you have to do that you hate? Like cleaning bathrooms?”
“If I really hated it, I think Daddy would say, ‘Okay, do something else.’ He’s not real strict about stuff like that.”
“What is he real strict about?”
“That I let him know where I am and when I’m coming home—”
Shaundra rolled her eyes. “Tough life. Anything else?”
“Taking care of Barkley, things like defleaing him. Daddy says having an animal is like having a child. If you’re not going to take care of it—forget it.”
“You sure talk a lot about your father!”
“Well—my mother’s, ah, dead.” Terri’s face got warm. Talking about her mother always embarrassed her.
Shaundra linked arms with Terri. “That’s sad. I’m sorry. Who’s Nancy? Your sister?”
“No, it’s only me and my father. She’s my father’s girlfriend, and Leif is her little boy.”
“What does she do?”
“Work, you mean? Something part-time with computers, and she’s gone back to college to get her degree.”
“What about your father? Aren’t I nosy?”
“I don’t mind. I like to know about people, too. Sometimes I wish I could look right into every house and see how people live. My father’s a carpenter. What about your father?”
“He’s a policeman, a detective, and my mother is a substitute teacher.”
“A detective?” Terri said. “That’s interesting.” But it made her feel uncomfortable to imagine Shaundra’s father putting handcuffs on someone and leading him away. She had seen a man like that on TV, his head hanging way down.
“I was in Detroit over the weekend visiting my father,” Shaundra said. “He moved there after my parents got divorced. Now he’s remarried. Don’t you think parents are gross? Always thinking of themselves! ‘Oh, Shaundra, you wouldn’t want us to live together and just fight all the time!’ That’s what they said when they told me and my brothers they were splitting. You know what I said, Terri? I said, ‘You can fight as much as you like. I don’t care!’ ‘Well, we care,’ they said. They pretended they were thinking about us, but they did it for themselves. Oh, no, don’t let me get going on that!”
“Did you have a good time visiting?”
“Semi-good. My father spent at least fifty percent of the time complaining about my mother. I told him, ‘She spends fifty percent of her time complaining about you!’ They are so dumb, really. I hate it that they do that. At least my stepmother doesn’t say anything about her old husband.”
“Is she nice?” Terri asked, thinking about Nancy.
“Francine’s all right, at least she leaves me alone. We went to two movies and ate at this restaurant, Captain Noah’s. Francine said it was the best fish place in Detroit. Now how does she know that? There was a swordfish over the entrance, looked like he was going to fall right on you. Inside they had dead stuffed fish on the walls staring at you with their fishy eyes. I told Francine, ‘Gee, what a wonderful way to improve people’s appetites.’”
“When will you see your father again?” Terri asked, laughing.
“Maybe in two weeks.”
“You must miss him!”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing my mother every other week, either. That would be great. She drives me bananas. Well, semi-bananas.”
“Well, here’s my corner,” Terri said. Was it too soon to ask Shaundra to come to her house? She wasn’t sure yet if Shaundra wanted to be friends, or was just being friendly. There was a big difference.
“Okay. See you tomorrow then,” Shaundra said. “Right. See you in gym. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Terri walked away. In a moment she glanced back. Shaundra was looking back, too. “Bye!” they called, almost in unison.
“When’s that bell going to ring?” Shaundra muttered, jumping around and waving her arms in front of Terri.
“Come on, girls, spruce it up,” Karen Trimbley, their gym teacher, yelled. “Shaundra, don’t let Terri get away with that!”
The bell rang. Shaundra linked arms with Terri as they went into the locker room. “Want to come over to my house after school?”
“Okay.” She didn’t let herself sound excited or too glad. Not yet. Not till she was sure.
“Did I tell you my stepmother is going to have a baby?” Shaundra said later, as they turned down Logan Street.
“That’s wonderful.”
“You think so, Terri? We don’t need any more kids in this family. I actually think they’re semi-nuts to do it. My father’s always complaining about supporting me and my brothers. That’s three. And there’s Francine’s kids, my stepbrothers. Makes five. And now another kid?”
“Four brothers,” Terri said. “I’m impressed.”
“Well, don’t be. I didn’t give birth to them.”
“Maybe your stepmother will have a girl—”
“A sister would be nice. Well, semi-nice.”
Terri liked Shaundra’s house a lot. There was a basketball hoop in the driveway and bushes in the yard. Inside, everything looked old and comfortable. In the living room the top of the piano was covered with framed pictures. “Who plays?” Terri asked.
“My mother, a little. She wants me to take lessons, but I have a tin ear.”
“Can I look around?”
“Help yourself, but there’s nothing to see.”
Terri peeked into the bedrooms, noticing the rugs on the floors and spreads on the beds. Not to mention curtains at the windows.
“See that rocker?” Shaundra said, as they looked into her brothers’ room. “That was my grandfather’s. My mother lets my stupid little brothers have it. I can’t believe it. They don’t even care that it was Grandpa Morris’s.”
In the kitchen they made banana shakes, then took them into Shaundra’s room. She had an old-fashioned four poster with fruit carved into each wooden post. “Was the bed your grandmother’s?” Terri asked.
“Don’t I wish! My mother bought it at a garage sale.” Shaundra sat cross-legged on the bed. “All night, I feel like I have the ghosts of all the people who used to sleep in this bed, in bed with me.”
Terri laughed. She felt good being with Shaundra. “Who’s this?” She pointed to one of the pictures tucked into the frame of the mirror.
“My grandparents Smith. My grandmother’s sort of a sweet old boring type, but my grandfather thinks she’s the greatest. Are your grandparents like that?”
“Well. . . no.” This was the worst part of making new friends, having to keep saying it was only her and her father, and nobody else, except Aunt Vivian who they only saw once a year. “Is