In her next life, Evie was going to think things through just a little bit more carefully. Think about things like good old cause and effect.
Brrrinnnggg! Bring, breeng! Bringgg!
Case in point. How come she hadnât considered just how terrible the shrill ring of a fake cell phone would sound in her baby daughterâs hands when she was in Grab-A-Lot Dollar Store two days ago? Thinking ahead would have done her a lot of good.
Briinnggg!
âMomma, make Missy stop! Her stupid cell phone is drivinâ me crazy!â
Leave it to Jenna to tell it like it was.
âMissy, stop,â Evie said, more to please her seven-year-old than to bring about any change in her toddler.
Jenna had never been one to suffer fools, or to suffer her baby sisterâs needs and wishes. Actually, from the moment her little redheaded darling had been born, she hadnât been in the mood to put up with much of anything, which was really too bad, since Evie could have used some support at the moment.
Briiinnnngggg!
âMomma! Sheâs not stopping.â
A better mother would be more patient and kind. But Jenna had come about her personality rightfullyâ¦which meant a lot of the time Evie didnât have much patience, either. âThanks for the update.â
âCanât you do something?â
âNo, and you canât, either. Donât touch that phone,â she added, when she heard Jenna shifting closer to the baby, which could only mean the toy was about to be snatched.
It didnât take a genius to know what would happen then. Missy screamingâloud, clear and unrelenting.
âBut Mommaââ
âDonât touch it.â
Breeeinnngggg! Bring! Ding!
âI hate that phone! Can I at least say that?â
âYou may.â Evie drummed her fingers on her steering wheel and hoped she was going to make it to her parentsâ without going crazy or wondering yet again why sheâd decided to make the drive from Texas to Floridaâs panhandle in two days.
After all, the girls were acting just like all the parenting books said they were supposed to. Jenna was all of seven and trying so hard to be helpful, even if she was only helping to benefit herself. Missy was just a baby.
As the toy rang and whistled and Jenna sighed dramatically, Evie glanced up to meet her eldestâs glare in the rearview mirror. âWhy donât you color or something?â
Out went the lip. âIâm sick of coloring. And I canât do anything with Missy going nuts with that phone.â
âItâs keeping her happy. Look on the bright side. Sheâs not crying.â
âWell, Iâm not happy.â
Evie wasnât, either, but since no one had cared about that during the last year, she didnât bother to bring it up now. âYouâre just going to have to be patient.â
âHow much longer until we get to Bishopâs Gate?â
Recalling that theyâd just passed the sign for I-85, Evie guesstimated they were close. âOne hour. Maybe less.â Bishopâs Gate was a sleepy little beachside town on the west coast of Florida. As the resort billboards on the side of the road advertised, nonstop fun was just minutes away.
Jenna groaned like that was an eternity. âMomma, weâve been in here forever.â
âOnly nine hours.â
âI donât see why we had to vacation in Florida, anyway.â
âI told you why. Weâre going to Bishopâs Gate because itâs where I vacationed every summer when I was a little girl.â
âNow Missy and me get to go.â
It was truly amazing just how sarcastic a seven-year-old could be. âYep.â And they were going to have a fun time.
âDaddy said Gulf Shores was closer.â
âDaddyâs not here.â Evie winced as she heard her sharp tone. Because she promised herself never to talk bad about John in the girlsâ presence, Evie added, âDonât forget, Grandma and Grandpa will be at the house when we get there. Weâre going to grill hot dogs tonight, then all go to the beach tomorrow.â
As Missy pressed another three buttons on the phone and squealed with laughter, Jenna folded her arms across her chest, a true imitation of her father. âDaddyâs going to be all alone while weâre in Florida for one whole month.â
Evie seriously doubted that. Ever since their divorce, John had spent very little time home alone. In fact, heâd spent very little time âfinding himself,â which was what heâd said he needed to do the night heâd said their marriage was over.
But that wasnât something good mothers told their daughters. âWeâll call Daddy tomorrow. You can tell him all about the trip. Youâre going to send him pictures, too, remember?â