Read Online Heart on a Chain by Cindy C Bennett - Free Book Online Page B

blouse with a wraparound skirt, which I help her tie. She sits while I use the blow dryer to dry her hair. She wants me to put hot rollers in for her, but the close contact with her makes me a nervous wreck, and I keep dropping them. Finally she swats my hands away.
    “ You’re useless,” she tells me. “Go…clean the kitchen or something. Try to make yourself useful.”
    I don’t wait to see if she’s going to change her mind, having been handed this reprieve. I go to do what she commands, cleaning quickly but thoroughly so that she won’t be able to find immediate fault.
    When my dad pulls into the driveway, my stomach begins convulsing again. He hasn’t been home this early for as long as I can remember. For the most part, it feels as if no one lives here but my mother and me.
    He comes in, glancing at me but ignoring me as completely as if I were invisible. I hear the shower come on again and a few minutes later they both emerge from their room, looking for all the world like any other married couple going out to dinner. I’m sure my mouth is hanging open.
    “ Finish up your chores, then go to bed,” is all the instruction or information I get as they walk out the front door. I walk into the living room, watching them through the window as they climb into dad’s beat up old car and pull out of the driveway. It’s not until they pull away that I realize what this means for me.
    I’m going to a football game.
     
    I finish my chores in record time. There isn’t much I can do about myself besides run a brush through my hair, and pull the least trashed shirt that I have out of the five that I do own. Afraid they’ll come back early and stop me, I run down the street and around the corner—and nearly barrel Henry over.
    He catches me by the arms, taking the weight of us both against a telephone pole, managing to keep us from sprawling on the sidewalk. Embarrassment floods me as he sets me back from him.
    “ In a hurry?” he asks with a grin.
    “ Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be here yet.”
    Confusion flits across his features.
    “ Then why the hurry? Were you trying to come and go before I arrived?”
    Surprised at the way his mind works, that he would think I would be trying to avoid him , I shake my head.
    “ Of course not. It would have been nice to be the first one here, though. No matter how early I leave my house, you always beat me here.” Not a lie, just a different truth.
    He laughs. “Sorry. It must seem like I’m some weird stalker or something, just sitting here waiting for you to happen by.”
    I shrug. “I don’t mind. It’s kind of nice to have someone waiting for me. ”
    He cocks his head, dark eyes intense.
    “ Well, those who aren’t waiting for you don’t know what they’re missing.”
    My breath catches in my throat. It almost sounds like he’s flirting. I shake my head and give a (nearly) silent guffaw; that’s foolish. He’s just being his usual gentlemanly self as his mother taught him, the same as when he carries my books or tray, pulls out my chair at lunch, opens my car door. His steady gaze hasn’t softened, watching me as if expecting something, a response or reaction. I have none because I don’t know how to respond to this kind of teasing.
    “ So,” I say, sweeping my hand toward the car, averting my eyes from his, “are you going to open my door or do I have to do it myself and tell your mom on you?”
    He chuckles, the spell broken, striding over to the car. He opens the door, bows with a flourish and sweeps his hand toward the car. I smile shyly as I pass him.
    We arrive at the high school well before the game starts, but the parking lot is already crawling with students. There are students here not only from our school but also from Jefferson. There’s a lot of good natured taunting going on, but the police officers walking around give the impression that it could turn into more. Henry comes around and opens my door, of course, calling greetings to