Read Online No Ordinary Life by Suzanne Redfearn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Suzanne Redfearn
Ads: Link
says, tapping Molly on the nose. “You just show up tomorrow and be your cute, adorable self, and they’re going to love you. Okey dokey?”
“Okey dokey, jokey smokey,” Molly says, skipping off to sit beside Tom on the couch where he is playing on Emily’s iPhone.
My mom stands, a slight groan emitted with the effort, making me realize, not for the first time since I’ve returned, that she is older than when I left, and a pang of unexpected concern prickles me.
“You need to be at Fox Studios at ten thirty,” she says. “Monique sent the details in an email. We think it would be best if Molly wears the dress the Gap gave her, the one with the stripes. I went out and bought a pair of Mary Janes that match. Monique also thinks it would be best if she wears her hair in braids, since the show is set on a farm.”
My concern for my mom’s aging evaporates with my annoyance. Monique this, Monique that. My mom flings the name around like she and Monique Braxton are pals. Monique Braxton has never even seen the striped dress the Gap gave Molly.
“I haven’t decided if we’re going,” I say, just to assert my authority and piss her off.
“Well, of course you’re going. You can take my car.”
And though of course we’re going , I refuse to give her the satisfaction of saying so. Instead I shrug and plop myself on the couch beside the kids, flick on the television, and scan through the channels, pretending to look for something interesting to watch, while secretly hoping I’ll land on the Gap commercial so I can watch my little star.
14
T he tickle in the back of my brain has a voice that sounds distinctly like Bo. I try to swat it away, and when that doesn’t work, I turn up the radio to drown it out. Buzz, buzz, buzz.
“Get lost,” I say out loud.
“Who you tawlking to?” Molly asks from her car seat.
“Mr. Bo. He’s in my head, and I want him to leave.”
“You’wre funny.”
Sometimes I am.
Bo quiets, but seconds later, my brain is ambushed again, this time by the flash of the insidious tabloid my mom works for, Star Gazer . This morning, the current issue was on the counter as I poured my coffee, the face of Zeke Aaron splashed on the front page, the latest teen idol to fall from fame into shame. Zeke Aaron Enters Rehab Again!!!
“Mom, tewll me again what I do fowr the audition?” Molly asks.
My eyes move to the rearview mirror to find my baby, her curls sticking up every which way around her saucer eyes.
“Are you nervous?” I ask, sensing more than curiosity in the question.
“A wlittle. I want to do good. Gwrandma says it’s impowrtant.”
I force my own desire from my voice. “Love Bug, this is no more important than picking apricots from the orchard. You’re going to meet some of the people who help put The Foster Band on television and pretend you’re a Foster kid like Caleb. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
Not entirely convinced, she says, “But if they wlike me, I get the job, wright?”
I swallow at the word “job.” “Sweetie, you’re four, you don’t need a job. But yes, if they like you, you would get the part.”
“And I’wll get paid wlots of money?”
“I don’t know how much, but yes, you would get paid.”
“And then we could get a new cawr, and you won’t have to wowrk, and Em can go to hewr soccewr games?”
This morning, I needed to break the news to Emily that, on top of everything else, she would miss her game because of the audition. I needed my mom’s car, so there was no way to get her to the field. It was an ugly scene, replete with screaming and door slamming, and a dozen I-hate-yous.
“Bug, this isn’t about that,” I try to reassure, though I know it’s impossible for Molly to see beyond the tumultuous emotions of the past day. “This is about doing something we’ve never done before and having fun. Tomorrow I’ll get a new job, then we’ll get a new car, and then Emily can go to her games.”
“But Gwrandma says
“Okey dokey, jokey smokey,” Molly says, skipping off to sit beside Tom on the couch where he is playing on Emily’s iPhone.
My mom stands, a slight groan emitted with the effort, making me realize, not for the first time since I’ve returned, that she is older than when I left, and a pang of unexpected concern prickles me.
“You need to be at Fox Studios at ten thirty,” she says. “Monique sent the details in an email. We think it would be best if Molly wears the dress the Gap gave her, the one with the stripes. I went out and bought a pair of Mary Janes that match. Monique also thinks it would be best if she wears her hair in braids, since the show is set on a farm.”
My concern for my mom’s aging evaporates with my annoyance. Monique this, Monique that. My mom flings the name around like she and Monique Braxton are pals. Monique Braxton has never even seen the striped dress the Gap gave Molly.
“I haven’t decided if we’re going,” I say, just to assert my authority and piss her off.
“Well, of course you’re going. You can take my car.”
And though of course we’re going , I refuse to give her the satisfaction of saying so. Instead I shrug and plop myself on the couch beside the kids, flick on the television, and scan through the channels, pretending to look for something interesting to watch, while secretly hoping I’ll land on the Gap commercial so I can watch my little star.
14
T he tickle in the back of my brain has a voice that sounds distinctly like Bo. I try to swat it away, and when that doesn’t work, I turn up the radio to drown it out. Buzz, buzz, buzz.
“Get lost,” I say out loud.
“Who you tawlking to?” Molly asks from her car seat.
“Mr. Bo. He’s in my head, and I want him to leave.”
“You’wre funny.”
Sometimes I am.
Bo quiets, but seconds later, my brain is ambushed again, this time by the flash of the insidious tabloid my mom works for, Star Gazer . This morning, the current issue was on the counter as I poured my coffee, the face of Zeke Aaron splashed on the front page, the latest teen idol to fall from fame into shame. Zeke Aaron Enters Rehab Again!!!
“Mom, tewll me again what I do fowr the audition?” Molly asks.
My eyes move to the rearview mirror to find my baby, her curls sticking up every which way around her saucer eyes.
“Are you nervous?” I ask, sensing more than curiosity in the question.
“A wlittle. I want to do good. Gwrandma says it’s impowrtant.”
I force my own desire from my voice. “Love Bug, this is no more important than picking apricots from the orchard. You’re going to meet some of the people who help put The Foster Band on television and pretend you’re a Foster kid like Caleb. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
Not entirely convinced, she says, “But if they wlike me, I get the job, wright?”
I swallow at the word “job.” “Sweetie, you’re four, you don’t need a job. But yes, if they like you, you would get the part.”
“And I’wll get paid wlots of money?”
“I don’t know how much, but yes, you would get paid.”
“And then we could get a new cawr, and you won’t have to wowrk, and Em can go to hewr soccewr games?”
This morning, I needed to break the news to Emily that, on top of everything else, she would miss her game because of the audition. I needed my mom’s car, so there was no way to get her to the field. It was an ugly scene, replete with screaming and door slamming, and a dozen I-hate-yous.
“Bug, this isn’t about that,” I try to reassure, though I know it’s impossible for Molly to see beyond the tumultuous emotions of the past day. “This is about doing something we’ve never done before and having fun. Tomorrow I’ll get a new job, then we’ll get a new car, and then Emily can go to her games.”
“But Gwrandma says
Similar Books
