Page 19 of Home Is Where the Bodies Are

“Christie’s here,” I say.

Beth shakes her head and whispers, “No, tell her I’m not here.”

“Be nice,” I whisper back. “Why don’t you go hang out with her for a little bit?”

“No way. She followed me on my run, Mom.”

“She just wants a friend.” I keep my voice low.

Beth is adamant, shaking her head back and forth. “No, then you go be her friend,” she says, slumping in her chair.

I look over at Nicole, hoping she’ll offer to hang out with Christie or encourage her sister to, but her headphones are back over her ears, and she’s writing in her notebook.

I sigh, accepting Beth’s decision and feeling bad for Christie. I make my way back to the kitchen and push open the screen door again to find her waiting, still smiling. “Sorry, Christie. Beth just got back from a run, so she’s going to shower, and we have plans as a family after that. But maybe tomorrow?” I say.

She nods. “Yeah, sure. I’ll come back tomorrow.” Her smile remains but it’s strained now.

“Okay. Have a good night, Christie.”

“You too, Mrs. Thomas,” she says, turning on her foot. Her shoulders slump, and her head hangs forward as she walks up the driveway.

When I reenter the living room, Beth sits up straight in her chair. “Is she gone?”

I nod. “Yeah, but she’ll be back tomorrow. You should be nice to Christie. It costs nothing to be kind.”

Beth groans and flicks her head back dramatically. “Just my reputation.”

Nicole notices her sister’s displeasure and pulls her headphones off. “What’s your problem?”

“Mom’s forcing me to do things I don’t want to do,” Beth chides.

“What else is new?” Nicole rolls her eyes, teasing me.

The screen door slaps against the frame, interrupting the conversation. Shoes hit the wall with a thud as each one is kicked off. All of a sudden, my youngest child’s arms are wrapped around my waist. I lean down, breathing him in. It’s these moments I’ll cherish forever.

“Mikey, how was school?” I ask. He pulls away and takes a couple of steps back, so I can get him in frame. He’s tall for his age and lanky, sporting a bowl haircut his father gave him. I remind myself to take him to a salon next time.

“Da bomb! We had an ice cream party and our class played dodgeball against the eighth graders. Totally beat them too. Bunch of weaklings.” He smiles wide.

“Hey now. No need to be a sore winner,” I say.

“It’s better than being a loser,” Nicole chimes in.

I give her a disapproving look.

“You’d know because you are one,” Beth says to Nicole.

“Mom!” Nicole whines.

I tell them to be nice to one another. Michael plops down next to Nicole on the couch. She ruffles his hair, and he pushes her playfully.

“Since it’s the last day of school, your father and I are going to order in pizza tonight to celebrate.” I smile.

Michael cheers, declaring he wants pepperoni.

“I don’t eat meat,” Nicole says.

“Since when?” Beth asks.

---