Read Online Untethered by Julie Lawson Timmer - Free Book Online

daughter on the cheek as she walked past. “I almost stuck to you!” she said. “Maybe Allie can give you a damp washcloth and you can run it over your face and neck.” Morgan nodded, and Sarah called her good-byes and left.
    Allie stood and carried a handful of glass to the garbage under the kitchen sink. “Crisis averted. Come on, Morgan. Let’s go get you a washcloth, and then find something to do upstairs.” She extended a hand for Morgan to take.
    But Morgan remained frozen in place. “My hair’s all sticky,” she said. “And my clothes are ruined.”
    â€œNo problem,” Char said. “You can rinse off in Allie’s bathroom. She can lend you something to wear home. We’ll put your clothes in a plastic bag, and your mom can wash them later. Wine stains will come right out. You’ll see.”
    â€œYeah,” Allie said, pointing to the staircase, on whose bottom step Sydney now sat. “You know where my room is, right? And my bathroom? You go clean up, and Sydney and I will look in the basement for some old clothes of mine. I’ll bring you a plastic bag, too.”
    When they were gone, Char took the cleaning supplies into the kitchen, washed her hands, and stood for a moment gazing at the space where Morgan had stood. She reached into the cupboard for a new wineglass, filled it, and handed it to Lindy. She found her own glass, still sitting on the counter, and Colleen’s, which she slid to her friend.
    â€œI’ll hang on to this one more tightly,” Lindy said.
    Colleen, pointing to the almost-empty bottle, said, “I hope you’ve got more, for when Sarah comes back. If ever a person needed a drink, it’s that woman. That was a lot of mood managing. I’m exhausted from the effort, and she’s not my daughter.”
    Char walked into the family room with her wineglass and a new bottle of merlot, and motioned for the others to follow. “I have a feeling the Crews don’t drink.”
    â€œShe deserves to make an exception for today,” Colleen said, sitting heavily. “I forgot how much work young kids are. And they have that younger one, too.”
    â€œStevie,” Char said, sitting beside Colleen on the couch to leave one armchair for Lindy, the other for Sarah. “Very sweet boy,” she said, and here she lowered her voice, leaning forward so they could both hear. “He’s got some pretty significant speech and motor issues. They just found out in the fall, and it’s been a real strain. They’ve been told that with intensive work, he might be able to catch up by kindergarten.
    â€œSo, they take him to all kinds of therapy and do all this work with him at home. That’s the exhausting thing, if you ask me. Notonly the work itself, but the constant calendar-watching: is he progressing fast enough, or will he have to be in special classes? Morgan’s a piece of cake compared to that, if you ask me. Anyone can spill food and make too big a deal of it.”
    She realized then that she hadn’t heard the teenagers come upstairs from the basement. Nor had she thought to ask Allie if there were clean towels and washcloths in her bathroom. “Let me go check on things,” she told the others.
    She found them in the basement, doubled over with laughter, each holding up an old outfit.
    â€œI can’t believe how much pink you wore!” Sydney shrieked. “And the frills!”
    â€œRight,” Allie said. “Like you didn’t have the exact same dress, Fashion Police.”
    Char reminded them of the girl on the second floor who needed something to wear, fast, and they stifled their laughter and got back to work. “We have to find her something that’s not completely embarrassing,” Sydney said. “It might take a while.”
    Upstairs, Char grabbed a towel from the linen closet and walked into Allie’s room, hoping Morgan