“I got a new job,” Lily said. “Starting Monday, I’ll be working at Sally’s shop.”

“Congratulations,” Mack said.

“Why would you do this to me?” Holly raised her voice and covered her face with both hands. “I’ve got this history paper and you said you had an idea and now you’re going to be gone all day and I guess I’m supposed to babysit Braden after school and on Saturdays and”—she removed her hands and sucked in more air—“and I bet you’ll even expect to load me up with chores.”

“The world does not revolve around you,” Lily said in her best no-nonsense tone. “If you like food and electricity, then I have to work, but it won’t affect you all that much. I’ll leave when you kids get on the bus and be home just before you are in the evenings.”

“But that means no matter how good me and Braden are, we will never get to go home to Austin, doesn’t it?” Holly persisted.

Lily cut two more pieces of cake and handed them off to Braden and Mack. She’d expected more whining from Braden than Holly. “If things work out with this job, we probably will give up our apartment in Austin when the lease runs out.”

“Then why should I be good?” Holly asked. “I’m doomed to live here until I graduate, with no closet, sharing a bathroom with a boy, and—”

“That closet thing can be remedied over spring break,” Mack said. “If your mama says it’s okay, I can build a closet in your room.”

“And what do I have to do to get that? Kiss your feet, Mama?” Holly snapped.

“You have to watch your attitude and your tone,” Lily told her.

“I’m not sure a closet is worth all that,” Holly smarted off.

“It’s your choice, but if you continue to be disrespectful, then you can do the supper dishes for a whole week,” Lily said.

“I don’t care if you work for Sally,” Braden said. “I like it that you’ll be home when we get here, Mama, because I don’t want Holly to ever be my boss. Will we still have cookies for an after-school snack?”

“Yes, but they probably won’t be fresh out of the oven every day.” She sliced off a fourth piece of cake for herself.

“I can dip them in hot chocolate or even coffee,” Braden said.

Holly shot a mean look his way. “Don’t you want to go home to Austin?”

“Not really,” Braden said. “I kind of like this place, and we can’t have a goat in the apartment. We can’t even have a cat or a dog.”

Holly kept her eyes on her plate, finished her cake, pushed back her chair, and stood up. “I’m going to my room.”

“Not before you clear your spot and rinse your dishes,” Lily told her.

Holly huffed through the whole process and then stormed off to her room, making sure she stomped on every wooden step up the staircase.

“I’ve still got a little bit of math homework. May I be excused?” Braden asked.

“Yes, and if you need help, bring it down here,” Lily said.

He carried his dirty dishes to the sink. “Will you be home on Saturday?”

“We haven’t worked out all the details, but if I’m not, I’ll leave a list of chores for you and your sister to do,” Lily said.

“Man, this moving sure changed things,” he said as he left the kitchen.

“At least one of them isn’t pouting about the move anymore,” Lily sighed.

“Holly will get over it,” Mack said. “Mind if I cut myself another piece of that cake?”

“Not at all.” Lily slid the plate closer to him. “I feel sorry for her one minute and want to ground her for eternity the next. I’m sure when I was fourteen, I gave my mother grief.”

“It’s called paying for your raising.” Mack cut a huge wedge of cake and put it on his plate.

“If my mother was alive, I would apologize for every time I hurt her feelings.” Lily left the table and put away the leftovers and loaded the dishwasher.

“Speaking of that.” Mack finished off his cake and took his dirty plate to the sink. “Have you been out to your folks’ graves?”

Lily shook her head. “I’ve kind of buried my head in the sand when it comes to that. If I didn’t come home to this house, and if I didn’t go out to the cemetery, Mama is just gone on a little vacation.” She wasn’t ready to face the sight of her mother’s name, birth, and death dates on a tombstone. Just seeing it would make it so final, and she needed just a little more time.

“When you get ready to go, I’ll be glad to take you,” Mack said.

“I appreciate that. I’ve got some last-minute things to work on, so I’m going up to my room.” She escaped before the tears started streaming down her face. What kind of daughter was she, anyway? Her mother had been gone for five years, and she hadn’t even put flowers on her grave.

Her feet felt like lead as she climbed the narrow staircase. She vowed that she would take flowers, maybe red roses, to her mother’s grave before the weekend was over, and she would definitely go alone. Mack didn’t need to see her all vulnerable and weepy. She grabbed a tissue from her nightstand and wiped her eyes. Then she took out the journal and carried it to Holly’s room.

“What did I do wrong now?” Holly’s tone was cold.

“Do you have a blank notebook?” Lily asked.

“You always buy too many, so yes, I’ve got one,” Holly said. “What’s that got to do with you going to work with Sally?”

“I thought we’d get started on that history project,” Lily said. “This journal was started over a hundred and fifty years ago. Your grandmother’s several-times-back great-grandmother wrote in it first, and it can be your proof of documentation for your project. I suggest that you write your paper like a journal and not only tell about what we read from your ancestors but also write about your feelings on each entry in the journal. What do you think?”

“Can I take that thing to school on the day we hand in our papers so that the teacher will know I’m not just making up a story?” she asked.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Lily said. “We can take a picture of each page and print it out, and then you can glue it right into the notebook. That would be a way of doing graphics, right?”

Holly’s eyes were twinkling with excitement, but knowing her, Lily didn’t expect much—not yet. “I guess we can read the first of it, and then I’ll make up my mind. Did Granny Vera write in it?”

“Yes, she did,” Lily answered, “at the very end. There’s lots of blank pages left for me to write in, and even for you someday.”

“For real?” Holly showed more interest. “You mean someday this will be mine to keep?”

“Yes, and you can do with it whatever you want.” Lily nodded. “You can put it in a museum or keep it and write in it, then pass it down to your daughter.”

Holly brought two clean composition books from her backpack. “All right, let’s look at the first page.”

“Why two?” Lily asked.

“One to take notes in, one to actually write the assignment in,” Holly explained. “Too bad I don’t have a computer, so I could type all the information into it.”