They headed toward the front door. Her mother reached for the handle, but didn't open it. A lump formed in Susie's throat. Here it was.

"Who was that girl?" Her mother pointed toward the end of the driveway where Marlee had stopped the van.

Susie swallowed hard and cursed herself for doing it because her mother had seen. "Oh, she pitches for my summer team. She gave me a ride home from the game." And she's just a friend, Mami, just a friend.

"Was that Marlee?"

Susie willed herself to get her nerves under control. "Si, Mami. Should we go in now?"

Her mother looked at her hard and steady as if trying to read her mind, but just when Susie was starting to crack under the pressure, her mother turned back toward the door and opened it.

Susie breathed a slow sigh of relief and followed her mother into the kitchen. She put the bags on the kitchen table. "I'm going to my room to take a shower, okay?"

"Come back and set the table for dinner in an hour."

"Okay."

Susie turned around thinking she was free and clear when her mother blurted, "I want to meet this Marlee girl."

"Okay." Susie didn't wait for her mother to add anything more and bolted toward the garage like an antelope running from a lion.

She reached for the garage door knob, but stopped when she smelled cigarette smoke. Miguel. It had to be. She sneaked around the back of the garage, the side hidden from the house, and found her brother and his friend Scott. Each of them held a cigarette inexpertly in their hands, trying to look cool.

Susie stomped her way toward them. "Miguel Rafael Torres, put that cigarette out." She stood over the two barely-teenage boys.

Miguel looked up at his sister and took another puff, which infuriated her. She reached down and swatted the cigarette out of his hand. She stepped on it with her crocs.

"Scott," she shook a finger at him, "you'd better get outta here before I kick your ass, too." She glared at him and tried not to smile when his eyes grew wide.

Scott mashed his cigarette out on the ground and leaped up. "See ya later, dude," he said to Miguel and scooped up his skateboard before scurrying away.

"You," Susie pointed at her brother, "what the hell are you doing? Trying to ruin your life? You're thirteen." She glared at him.

Her brother glared back. "Oh, yeah? Well I saw you kissing her."

Chapter Four.

A Real Job SUSIE SCARFED HER dinner, reheated arroz con habichuelas from the night before. They were having leftover rice and beans again because her father wouldn't be home from his Vermont business trip until much later that evening. It was one of his quirks; he didn't like leftovers. Susie tapped her finger on the table lost in thought. She and her brother had reached a tentative truce behind the garage. He would keep her secret about Marlee, and she would keep his about smoking. Of course, expecting a thirteen-year-old boy to keep a secret was scary business, and Susie knew it.

She wished her family would hurry up and finish so she could do the dishes and then bolt to her room to see if Marlee had texted her back yet. When Marlee left earlier that afternoon, Susie ran back to her room and sent a text that read, "Luv u," but Marlee didn't respond. After Susie took a shower, she threw a towel around herself and grabbed the phone off the bed. Still no text. She got dressed, blow dried her hair, and even did a few sit-ups to pass the time, but her phone remained agonizingly silent. Her mother had a strict rule about cell phones at the dinner table, so she left it on her bed when it was time to help with dinner.

After setting the table, and eating quickly, Susie sat as patiently as she could. She faced her brother, but didn't really see him. That is, until he stuck his tongue out at her. She didn't take the bait. She just rolled her eyes. Maybe she could bribe him to help her in the kitchen, but she doubted he'd go for it. Her parents never made him help out in the kitchen, so why would he bother? Especially when he had Marlee to hold over her. Her grandmother would probably try to help, but Susie never let her almost seventy-year-old grandmother do dishes. She had earned the right to go back to the television after dinner. Most of the time her grandmother made dinner anyway, since both her parents worked long and sometimes strange hours.

Susie drank the rest of her milk and half-listened to her mother telling a story about a woman who got to the hospital so late that they didn't have time to get her up to the neo-natal ward where her mother worked. The woman gave birth in the emergency room. Susie wasn't interested in babies or children, that's why she found it weird that her mother insisted she babysit for Mrs. Johnson's kids again that summer. Kids weren't her thing. Unless Marlee wanted kids. Susie's eyes grew wider. What if Marlee wanted a houseful of kids? Aay, Dios mio. I'm going to have to learn to like them.

Her mother's laughter brought her back to the present. "Susana, you look horrified."

"Hmm?" She frantically scanned her brain for a lie. "Oh, I was thinking about that lady giving birth." She shivered. "Uf!"

"It's a beautiful thing," her mother said. She turned to Miguel, "Are you finished?" He nodded. "Go on outside and play." He threw his napkin in his plate and bolted out the front door.

Susie's grandmother stood up and reached for Miguel's plate.

"Aay, no, no, Abuelita," Susie admonished. "I'll get the dishes. Don't you have your Sabado Gigante to watch on TV?"

Her grandmother's eyes lit up. "Aay, me gusta Don Francisco."

Susie hid a smile behind her hand.

Susie's mother laughed. "We all know about your little crush on Don Francisco." She waved her mother-in-law toward the living room. "Go on, we'll do the dishes."

Susie exchanged an amused glance with her mother and then gathered up the dirty dishes from the table. She headed into the kitchen where, a few short hours earlier, she had kissed Marlee passionately. She prayed that Marlee had texted her back. C'mon, she should totally be home already. It only took about forty-five minutes to get to Clarksonville from East Valley. Her eyes widened. What if Marlee had an accident in the van? Marlee had only gotten her license in June, about a month before, and C.R. 62 could be tricky if the logging trucks were out.

Trying her best not to let her anxiety show, Susie threw her dish rinsing and pot washing skills into overdrive.

"Slow down, Susana," her mother admonished. "Where's the fire?" Her mother took the rinsed dishes and placed them precisely into the dishwasher.

"Sorry." Susie forced herself to slow down. Before starting on the pots, she put the remaining rice and beans into a plastic container. She snapped the lid tight and tossed it into the fridge. "I guess I'm still energized from my game today."

"Did you win?"

"Mm, hmm." Susie nodded. "M--" She stopped herself short. She was just about to say that Marlee had pitched a good game, but bringing up Marlee might bring her mother's suspicions to light. "My coach said we have a long schedule ahead." She rejoiced silently that she'd found a suitable M-word to start the sentence with.

Her mother shot her a sidelong glance. "Why do you play that game?"

"Mami," Susie said with a disapproving groan, "you know I like to play. And--"

"What?"

"I'm pretty good at it." She washed and rinsed the last pot and put it in the drying rack. She reached out and dried her hands on the dry end of her mother's towel. "Not to mention that all my friends play."

"Does that include Marlee?"

A warning shot of adrenaline hit every nerve in her body, but she stayed cool. "Yup. Marlee, Sam, Lisa, Rachel, and Abby. They all play on the summer team." She threw in a string of names, hoping Marlee's wouldn't stand out as much that way. Susie regarded her mother, careful not to ignite whatever was brewing just below the surface.

Her mother nodded knowingly, but Susie wasn't sure just what it was her mother knew. Susie breathed an inner sigh of relief when her mother released her gaze and reached for the last pot to dry. "So," her mother asked, "when does Christy leave for California?"

"Wednesday. I'm gonna go over tomorrow to hang out with her after Mrs. Johnson's."

Her mother glanced at the kitchen clock. "Your father should be home any time now. He'll expect you home tomorrow for Sunday dinner. Your grandmother is making arroz con pollo."

"And flan for dessert?" Susie liked her grandmother's chicken and rice, but her flan custard dessert was out of this world.

Her mother's warm smile sent Susie right back to childhood wrapped in her mother's arms. Susie didn't want to disappoint that smile or risk never seeing it again. Introducing her parents to Marlee might just do that.

Her mother patted Susie on the arm. "I bought the rest of the ingredients for flan at Wal-Mart today, so it's up to you to persuade tu abuela to make it."

Susie squealed like a little girl, put her hands together, and looked skyward praying to God to make flan happen on Sunday. "I won't stay long at Christy's. She's busy packing anyway."

"What's she going to study at UCLA?"

"Psychology, I think." Small talk was good. The longer they stayed away from the subject of Marlee, the better.

Her mother made a tsk tsk sound and shook her head. "That's a waste."

"Why?" Personally, Susie thought it would do her friend good.

"What kind of job is she going to get with a degree in psychology? Aay Santo, estos ninos hoy en dia no tienen sentido comun."

Susie took offense at her mother calling her best friend senseless, but knew better than to challenge her.

"And, what, Dios dame paciencia," her mother looked skyward, "have you decided to study in college?" Before Susie could answer, her mother added, "Clarksonville Community College has one of the state's best registered nurse programs, and after two years, you'd not only have your RN, but an Associate's degree, too." She peered at Susie as if it had already been decided.

Susie leaned back against the counter. The way her mother was gearing up, it looked like they might be there for a while. "You know I want to study geology or earth science. Maybe even meteorology."

Her mother looked skyward again and her lips moved silently. Susie looked down at the linoleum knowing not to interrupt her mother as she prayed. After what seemed like an eternity, her mother finally said, "Susana."

Susie looked up.

"What kind of job will you get studying rocks or the earth or meteors?"

Susie tried not to laugh. She didn't dare correct her mother that meteorology was the study of the weather, not meteors. She decided on a safer road. "Geology's more than just rocks, Mami. Geologists study earthquakes and volcanoes and floods and stuff. Geologists help us understand the Earth and global warming. Brockport has a really good geology--"

"What kind of living are you going to make?" her mother interrupted. "No. You need a real job after college."

It was not the first time she and her mother had the nurse versus geologist argument and, something told Susie it wouldn't be the last either. Susie steeled her chin. She was going to study geology or earth science in college even if she had to pay for it herself.

"Mami, can I go now?" Susie desperately wanted out of the conversation and back to her room. She had a cell phone to check.

Susie's mother glared at her as if trying to figure out a way to talk some sense into her. "Get the laundry out of the dryer first, okay?"

Susie took a slow and careful breath. "Okay." What her mother really meant was to fold the clothes and put them away in each person's room where they belonged. She headed for the door to the basement on the far side of the kitchen determined to make quick work of her task and then fly back to her room. She flicked the light on in the stairwell and descended the steps as quickly as she could.

The basement was unfinished, so she kept an old pair of crocs down there. She didn't want to get her socks filthy. She slipped them on and opened one of the windows to get some air flowing in the stuffy basement. She opened the dryer and groaned. Whites. Why did it have to be whites? It was going to take her forever to match up all the stupid socks and get them to the right room.

Midway through her drudge work she jumped when her brother started singing, "Susie and Marlee sittin' in a tree. K-i-s-s-i-n-g." He knelt by the open basement window.

"Shut up, jerk." She slammed the window shut and went back to her folding.

Once the clothes were folded and delivered to the proper rooms, she slithered back to her room over the garage. Luckily her brother was nowhere in sight. Just in case, she locked both the outside door and the door to her room at the top of the stairs.

She forced herself to calmly pick up her cell phone. She held it to her chest and whispered a quick prayer. "Please let there be a text from her." She slowly turned the phone over and looked at the display. No text. No voicemail. No missed call, either. She sat down hard on the bed, her disappointment deep.

There must be some mistake. Marlee always texted her back. Maybe the phone wasn't getting a signal. Nope. Strong signal. Susie powered down her phone and then turned it back on again hoping to hear the chime of an incoming text. She groaned when she heard nothing.

She stood up with her phone in one hand and ran her fingers over the rose quartz with the other. "I'm sorry, mi vida." She looked in the direction of Clarksonville. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

She hit the voice dial button and said, "Marlee" into the phone, and it dialed Marlee's cell phone number. "C'mon," Susie pleaded. "Pick up." She groaned when the call went straight to voice mail. "Hey, Marlee. Sorry I had to rush you out of here today." A few seconds ticked by as she tried to figure out what to add. "My mother is giving me grief about college again." Another few seconds went by. "Call me later if you want. I'll be home." Duh. Susie rolled her eyes at her lack of phone skills. "Okay, I love you. Bye."

Susie clicked her phone shut and pouted. This was how things had started when Sam was about to break up with her. No returned texts or phone calls. She paced for a while until a brilliant idea came to her.

She reopened her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She found the entry for Marlee's home phone and hit the talk button. She was proud of her ingenuity and smiled. Her smile was short lived when Marlee's mother told her that Marlee had come home from the game, showered, and then bolted right back out the door.

Where could Marlee have gone? Lisa and Sam were at that wedding, and Jeri was working at her family's restaurant. She sat on the bed again.

"Bree. It has to be." Susie slumped back against her pillows. "Marlee went to see that idiota estupida from Southbridge."

Chapter Five.

She's in Love. With a Girl!

SUSIE RIFLED THROUGH the mound of laundry on the coffee table as Bob the Builder and his Can-Do Crew built an athletic field on the television screen. Luckily she'd only seen that particular episode twice before, so it wasn't that bad. Susie hated Sundays at the Johnsons. Sundays were laundry days. She had to make sure she timed everything right so all the laundry would be washed, dried, and folded before Mrs. Johnson got home. All that and she had to make their dinner too like she did every night. She folded one of baby Emma's bibs. Actually, now that she thought about it, house cleaning days were worse than laundry days. Mrs. Johnson was particular about everything. Leave one speck of dust and she cried foul. On house cleaning days Susie dusted all day long, just to make sure Mrs. Johnson wouldn't give her grief about it. The only day Susie could kind of slack off was on Fridays, mowing and weeding day. Although Mrs. Johnson inspected the lawn with a critical eye, she usually ignored the gardens.

Baby Emma had just turned a year old and was happily sitting on the floor chewing on the end of a toy cell phone, the kind that made real cell phone noises when the buttons were pushed. Emma's nineyear-old sister, Bethany, had holed herself up in her room to play games on her computer. She was convinced she didn't need a babysitter, and Susie was just fine letting her do whatever she wanted. One less kid to worry about.

Susie folded a onesie t-shirt and placed it in the laundry basket. She picked up her cell phone to check the time. That's what she told herself anyway. It wasn't to see if Marlee had finally texted back or anything. It was five minutes before four o'clock. Susie had been there since seven that morning, and if she was lucky, Mrs. Johnson would be walking in the door any minute.

Susie jumped when the phone rang in her hand. Joy ran through her heart when she saw her favorite pitcher's name on the display.

She flipped open the phone. "Hey, stranger." She anticipated the smooth timber of Marlee's voice and wasn't disappointed.

"Hey," Marlee said. "I'm on my break. I can't talk too long, though. The Sunday dinner rush will be picking up soon." Marlee worked as a waitress at D'Amico's; her friend Jeri's family restaurant in Clarksonville.

"That's cool," Susie said. "Mrs. Johnson should be home any second now and then I can get out of here."

"How were the brats today?"

"Aw, they're not br--," Susie was about to call them brats, but changed her mind just in case Bethany was listening. "They're not really the b-word. Christy calls them that 'cuz she doesn't like kids. They were good today. Baby Emma es muy preciosa. She's walking now. She's still kind of shaky, but she gets around." Susie smiled at the baby now draped over Max, the family's goofy yellow Labrador. She was drooling into his fur.

"Wow," Marlee said, "and she's only one year old? Actually, I have no idea what babies are supposed to do when."

"Me neither." Susie wanted to ask, needed to ask, why Marlee hadn't returned her texts or phone call from the night before, but didn't want to sound desperate. The fact that she was so desperate scared her a little. She'd always been like her parents, her mother especially, when it came to strength and confidence. Puerto Rican pride, her mother called it, but being with Marlee had reduced her to a quivering ball of need and insecurity.