mother was in the kitchen putting the teakettle on to heat. “Sorry, it took longer than I expected.”
Karin shrugged. “It’s not like I need a babysitter or anything. Mellie told me that her brother was going to the meeting. What did Mr. Hollister want?”
“Just some city council business. You’ll probably hear about it in a few days.”
Uh-oh. Now her mom seemed uptight and not very happy, either. Darn it, anyhow. Karin was glad that Mellie had come to Cooperton and she wouldn’t be here if her brother wasn’t here, too, but why did he have to be so awful? The kids at school were always talking about Aaron because their parents worked at the factory and hated him. Jill Vittorino’s dad was the mayor, and she said that her father was worried that Aaron Hollister might even move the company to another place where they didn’t have to pay workers as much.
“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously.
“It’s fine. Did you get your homework done?”
“Define done.”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “Stop imitating that actor on Psych or I’m taking your television away until you’re thirty. You know perfectly well what I meant.”
Karin giggled. “It’s done. Even geometry.”
“Good. Parent–teacher conferences are coming up, and I don’t want to be asked why you aren’t doing your assignments.”
Karin laughed again, but an odd thought occurred to her. “What if I was flunking? What would you do?”
“Are you flunking?”
“No, I just wondered. Kids flunk, you know. Susan Lightoller is real smart, but she’s blowing calculus, and everybody knows that Tiffany Baldwin got an F in English last year.”
“From what you’ve said about Tiffany, I’m surprised she isn’t failing all of her classes. It sounds as if she spends most of her time doing her hair and makeup and flirting with boys.”
The kettle whistled and Karin fidgeted as her mom made a cup of tea. “So what would you do if I was getting F’s? Like...ground me or something?”
“I would try to find out why you were failing. There’s a difference between not trying to do the work, and having trouble with it. If you were having trouble, I’d get a tutor to help.”
“And if I was just goofing off?”
“I’d ground you for life. We don’t do things halfway in this family.”
We don’t do things halfway in this family.
Karin gulped. She hadn’t heard that since her dad had died. It was something he used to say when they were having a special load of fun. He’d say something like, “You want a second ice cream cone, don’t you? We don’t do things halfway in this family.” Hearing it now made her feel both sad and good.
“Okay. I’m going to get ready for bed.”
She practically ran to her bedroom, blinking to keep from crying and making her mom cry, too.
* * *
SKYLAR TRACED THE steaming rim of her mug, thinking about the past. At eighteen she’d been determined to raise Karin alone—scared, but determined. Then Jimmie had asked her to marry him, and she’d loved him so much she had finally agreed. Now she was back to doing it alone, with a grieving teenager to boot.
It was awful not knowing how to help Karin. They’d talked with a grief counselor, yet there were times when it seemed as if her daughter was hurting more now than in the first months after losing her father. Maybe it would get better after the pennant race and World Series was over.
And now Aaron was back in Cooperton, complicating matters.
Perhaps she should have explained to Karin why he’d been at the meeting. Her classmates might start talking about it, and they’d soon know her mother was responsible for deciding whether he did or didn’t get approval.
It still astonished Skylar. She would never have guessed the city council was capable of such creative maneuvering; perhaps they were better politicians than she’d thought. Of course, since they couldn’t know the history she shared with Aaron, they’d likely figured it was the best solution all around. Yet it was going to take a huge amount of work to do the thing right—the zoning question alone bothered her. She hated seeing farmland being covered by roads and buildings.
But Chet and the others were right about one thing—a big chunk of the Nibble Nook’s customers were Cooper Industries employees. She might be able to stay in business if the company shut down, but what would the town do? You couldn’t suddenly throw hundreds of people out of work without having a major impact on everyone. The town might not survive, which meant that no matter what she didn’t like about Aaron’s plans for expansion, she’d probably have to give her approval.
At least she hadn’t been the only one blindsided by the city council. The look on Aaron’s face had been priceless, both when he’d realized she was a member, and then when he learned he would have to deal with her to get what he wanted.
Skylar’s tea had long cooled by the time she followed Karin to bed. She still hadn’t decided how she was going to handle Aaron’s proposal. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was anyone else, but their personal history aside, she didn’t have any faith in his concern for anyone except himself.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Aaron was driving Melanie to school when she cleared her throat.
“Uh...Aaron, Karin and I want to go to the movies tomorrow. There’s a Matt Damon flick playing. The Saturday matinee starts at 12:20 and afterward we thought we’d go for pizza before the baseball game starts. Is that okay?”
Instant refusal hovered on his lips. Aside from Karin Gibson’s mother, he didn’t have anything against the teenager, but Skylar was the problem, along with the general undesirability of his sister hanging out at a place like the Nibble Nook. On the other hand, he didn’t have any reason to think Skylar was still the outrageous troublemaker she used to be.
Aaron thought fast. “Actually, I’d like to spend more time with you and thought we could go to San Francisco tomorrow. It’s close enough for a day trip if we leave early in the morning.”
Melanie’s hopeful smile vanished. “But you’ve been planning to work at the office. You know, I could have gone to the movies without telling you that Karin was going to be there, too. But I asked, just like Mother says I’m supposed to.”
True enough. He ought to be grateful that his sister was being honest. And he was grateful. Taking her for the year had filled him with concern.... What if she got on drugs when she was in his care, or something equally bad, simply because he didn’t know the right thing to say or do? He’d never considered having children, much less how to deal with a teenager, so it was uncharted territory for him.
“Wouldn’t you like to see San Francisco instead?” he urged. “It’s a beautiful place and quite different from other cities you’ve visited like Paris and London. We could eat crab and fresh sourdough bread on Fisherman’s Wharf and get ice cream at Ghirardelli Square. Maybe
