When I got to my room, I was relieved to find the journal sitting on my desk next to my schoolbooks. I hoped Dad had found it, not Mom, but there was no changing it either way. At least I had it. I placed it carefully in my bottom desk drawer. I put on jeans and a t-shirt and left my room, closing the door tight behind me. By the time I got to the kitchen, Mom had already put dinner on the table.
“Did you get them all?” Dad asked.
“I hope so.” I sat in my usual chair and scooped au gratin potatoes onto my plate. Mom scowled as I picked up a crusty chicken breast with my hands the way I always did. I held up my hands.
“They’re clean. I just took a bath, remember?”
“You’re old enough to use a fork.”
“It’s fried chicken, Mom. Finger-lickin’ good.”
Mom just shook her head. I could see Dad grinning as he picked up a drumstick and took a bite.
“You two,” Mom sighed.
“Peas in a pod,” Dad said.
Mom rubbed her hand across the slight bulge just below her narrow waist. “Don’t listen to them, Providence. We don’t want you learning their bad manners.”
“Providence?” I asked.
“I know. It’s a little old fashioned, but your father picked it out.” Mom put her hand over Dad’s.
I looked over at Dad.
He nodded and grinned. “Nothing wrong with being old fashioned.”
“What if it’s a boy?” I asked.
Dad shrugged. “Then I guess we’ll change the name to Chance.”
“Or Fortune,” Mom said. “Because very few people in this world are fortunate enough to have a second child.”
“Fortune Bard?” I asked. “Think of the poor child’s future.”
Dad laughed. “You have a point, Mandy girl. Good thing we have some time to try out names.”
Saturday, March 28, 2009
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