Father In Training. Сьюзен Мэллери

“Nothing. We finished papering the kitchen cupboards.”

      “Thanks.”

      Sandy took a seat next to her oldest. With Kyle no longer a daily fixture in their lives, Lindsay hadn’t bothered to wear her nicest summer clothing. Today she’d pulled on a torn pair of shorts that had once been light blue but that had faded to a sort of institutional gray. Her T-shirt wasn’t much better. There was a juice stain over the pocket, and one sleeve was coming off at the shoulder. Even her brown hair seemed limp, just lying on her back instead of bouncing with each step.

      As usual, Blake sat off by himself, over in a corner of the porch with his back pressed against the house. Her son was playing with one of his hand-held video games for the first time since they’d moved. As she watched, his fingers moved nimbly over the buttons, destroying electronic bad guys and making his private world safe once again. His glasses slipped down his nose. Absently, he pushed them into place, then took a sip of his drink before returning his attention to his computer game.

      Nichole scooted over to lean against her. “I’m hot, Mommy,” her youngest told her. “Can we go swimming?”

      Sandy shook her head. “We have to wait for the movers, honey. They called and said they would be here later today.”

      “If they don’t break down again,” Lindsay said.

      “You’re grumpy all of a sudden. What’s going on?”

      “I hate this place,” Lindsay told her. “There’s nothing to do. There are no kids my age, or anything. I can’t believe you moved us here.”

      Mutinous brown eyes glared at her. Lindsay had Thomas’s eyes. She had her father’s sense of adventure. Unfortunately, she had her mother’s temper. Sandy recognized a lot of the unfocused adolescent rage from her own youth in her daughter. Her little girl was growing up fast.