Francesca's Kitchen. Peter Pezzelli

friend Jenna let me borrow it. We’re the same size.”

      “I don’t care. Give it back, because you’re not wearing it to school.”

      “But why not?”

      “Well, for starters, you’re too young to dress like that, young lady.”

      “But this is the way all the girls are dressing today,” Penny insisted.

      “I don’t care. And besides, it’s the middle of winter. At least put a sweater on. You look ridiculous.”

      “Tell me about it,” chimed in Will, always willing to add fuel to the fire.

      “Shut up, game boy,” sneered his sister. “Try minding your own business.”

      “Whatever.”

      As it usually did on a school day morning, the decibel level continued to increase as the time to depart for school drew nearer. By the time Loretta managed to get herself dressed, collect her own things for work, and bustle with them out the door, she was in full throat, leading the chorus of bickering and mutual recrimination. She glanced inside just once and gave a dismayed sigh at the untidy state of things in the living room and kitchen. There was nothing to be done about it now, so she slammed the door shut and hurried them all off to the car. With barely a look in the rearview mirror, she backed the car out of the driveway, and tore off down the road.

      “Now remember,” she told her two children a short while later, when she pulled the car up to the school’s front door, “you’ll have someone new staying with you today until I come home. Please try to be nice to her. Be polite. Especially you, Penny. Got it?”

      “Yeah, sure,” said Penny, stepping out of the car.

      “And that goes for you too, mister.”

      “You know me, Mom,” said Will, dragging his backpack behind him as he slid out the door.

      “Hey,” Loretta called after them as they began to walk away. “Don’t I get a kiss from either of you anymore?”

      “When you get home, Mom,” Will called back, waving over his shoulder.

      Loretta watched until the two of them were safe inside before tearing off again down the road. With any luck, she would be only fifteen or twenty minutes late for work.