Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(27)
“Some would disagree.” Liza gave Emerson a long, thorough examination, her brows furrowing, which looked bizarre since her forehead didn’t move. “Regardless, your sister has a history of creating problems and with the Loveliest Survivalist Campout coming up in just a few weeks, I’m sure the other parents are concerned.”
“Are you implying that my sister’s not welcome at the campout?”
“Heavens no,” Liza said, waving a manicured hand. “I’m implying that perhaps it would be easier if you removed her from the group altogether.”
Violet sucked in a terrified breath and her hand tightened around Emerson’s. “Are they kicking me out? Like for always? Cuz I need to get my survivor badge.”
“Don’t worry, Vi, that isn’t happening,” Emerson said, ruffling her sister’s hair while getting eye to eye with Liza. “She made a mistake, but she wasn’t the only one at fault.”
Brooklyn glared viciously at Emerson. The kid obviously had no protective instincts, because if she had, then she’d put those beady eyes back in her head before someone knocked them out completely.
“I won the Mommy Choice Award for a wonderful post on my Whining, Dining, and Diapers blog titled ‘The Scoop on Acknowledging Shortcomings.’ It addresses the shortcomings of children as well as the parents.” Liza lowered her voice. “I could e-mail you the link.”
“Why don’t you do that,” Emerson said. “And while you’re at it, can you send me the link to that article you did on bullying? Because I’d love to post it on the bulletin board at the Fashion Flower next to the surveillance footage of Violet’s bug buddy bullying her into pulling the alarm.”
Liza made a horrified gasp while clutching at her surgically enhanced chest. “What are you implying?”
Violet tugged on Liza’s pant leg, and when the woman looked down, Violet whispered, “I think she means that Brooklyn’s a little shit.”
Every pint-sized face went round in awe, and Emerson worked really hard not to high-five her. Violet frowned. “What? I was just telling it like it is.”
“The Lady Bugs are about manners and building young role models,” Liza informed the entire surrounding area. “I refuse to allow my daughter to be exposed to this kind of behavior! And I will not be responsible for a Lovely who doesn’t abide by my rules.”
“Your rules suck,” Emerson pointed out, to the glee of the other four girls. “Lady Bugs should be about making friends and ice cream socials and fun.”
Not that Emerson had all that much experience with any of those—she’d been too busy helping out at home. But she wanted different memories for Violet. It was she who’d signed her up for Lady Bugs to begin with. She wanted her sister to experience being a kid, have some fun, and find a space that she fit.
“Not taking field trips to a hospital. I mean, is ‘Whoopee, I’m going to see sick and dying people today!’ something any of you ever say?”
Not a single kid raised her hand. Not even Brooklyn. Then a little girl with a surgical mask scooted closer to Violet and said, “They didn’t even give us suckers.”
“Or let us play with the dolls,” another one with glasses said. “And the dolls were naked.”
“They were first-aid dolls,” Liza defended, but the girls weren’t listening. In fact, it appeared that every one of them was excited to be heard, which told Emerson that Violet wasn’t the only one who was unhappy.
“Last year’s Lovely Leader Carol took us to a doll factory, then got us ice cream,” Glasses was explaining, and for the first time since Emerson had arrived, the girls were actually smiling.
“Ice cream rocks,” Emerson agreed.
“Ice cream and doll factories won’t help win the Loveliest Survivalist,” Liza said, taking Brooklyn by the hand. “Calistoga Lovelies Nine-Eight-Three knows that. It’s why they are seven-time Loveliest Survivalist champions. And they have been begging Brooklyn to join their group since pre-K.”
“Well, then what are you standing here for?” Emerson asked.
Liza looked at the group of misfits who had moved closer to Violet and took Brooklyn by the hand. “I have no idea.”
Emerson watched Liza blast through the parking lot, completely oblivious to the chaos around her, and she wondered how a woman like that had been put in charge of a bunch of impressionable kids, then wondered why all of the remaining bugs were looking expectantly at her. As if she were the queen bug. And suddenly a bad feeling started in her gut.
Glasses stepped from the group and asked, “Are you going to take us to ice cream, Lovely Leader Emerson?”
The next week, Dax went out for a run. The cold wind slapped him around and stole his breath, but it did nothing to settle the unease that had been gnawing at his brain all week.
Staring at the walls of his rental was driving him nuts, and Dax was itching to get back in the action, back to the adrenaline rush of a life that left him too busy and too spent to ponder stuff he shouldn’t be pondering. Which was the only reason he could come up with for why he was running toward town hall, looking for a certain food cart.
Sure, he still had no idea how he was going to get to PT tomorrow. And he’d scrolled through his phone, a lesson in why it was important to keep up with old friends, because the only people in there who weren’t family lived in San Diego or were stationed in another country.