Love Letters From Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [50]
Bridget said, “I’m afraid it’s not exactly that easy, Noah. And even if it were, there are a lot of major expenses coming up before we sell the first bottle.”
“Like what?”
“Like college,” Cici said.
“Lori told me her dad paid for her college.”
“Your college,” Lindsay said, with a touch of exasperation. “And let’s not have that conversation again about whether or not you’re going because obviously you are.”
“And John Adams isn’t exactly free,” Cici added. “I know you’ve applied for another scholarship but that only covers seventy percent of the cost.” She shrugged. “We have a lot of expenses coming up, Noah. And when you have expenses, you work. It’s as simple as that.”
The women had gone three or four steps before they realized they had left Noah behind. When they turned he was standing with his feet planted and his balled fists visible in his pockets, his face a tornado of emotions.
“What business is it of yours?” he exploded, completely without warning. “Why do you care? I’m not even your kid!”
And, as they watched in astonishment, he shoved past them and bounded up the back steps, banging the screen door hard behind himself.
“Well, that was fun,” Cici said in a slightly lowered tone when he was gone.
Bridget looked troubled. “We shouldn’t have mentioned the tuition. Children shouldn’t worry about things like that.”
“Don’t be silly,” Lindsay said, but she looked uneasy, too. “The latest thinking is that kids should be involved in family finances as much as is practical. That’s how they learn responsibility.”
“Where did you read that?”
“I’m a teacher. I keep up.”
“But you know how seriously he takes things,” Bridget said. “He would have rebuilt that barn all by himself if we had let him, every stick and nail.”
Cici said, “Something is definitely going on with him.”
“It’s a girl,” Bridget speculated.
Lindsay gave her a dry look. “Do you think?”
“Maybe we should have the Reverend Holland talk to him,” Bridget suggested.
“Whatever he’s done,” Cici said adamantly “he doesn’t deserve that. Maybe we should make an appointment with the school counselor.”
“Oh, great.” This from Lindsay. “How special is he going to feel when his three mommies show up at school? Things are hard enough for him as it is.”
“We have to ground him,” Cici said.
“That seems redundant,” Bridget argued. “All he has time for now is chores, school, and work.”
Lindsay said unhappily “Apparently not. And you know as well as I do this entire relationship is based on trust. If he can’t be trusted to be where he’s supposed to be, we have a big problem. ”
“And if he can’t be honest with us,” Cici added, “we have a bigger one.”
“A week?” suggested Bridget.
“Two,” said Lindsay grimly.
“That’s practically the rest of the school year!”
Cici shrugged. “You do the crime, you do the time. We’ve got to be united on this, Bridget.”
“Besides,” Lindsay added practically, “we’re going to need his help around here for the next couple of weeks.”
Bridget gave a shake of her head. “You guys are tough. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“Come on,” Cici said to Lindsay. “I finished the table rounds you wanted. Help me carry them around front and we can set them up and see how they look.”
From inside the house, the telephone began to ring. Bridget glanced at her watch and sighed. “It’s not five yet. I guess we have to answer it.”
“Maybe it’s someone about the goat,” Cici suggested hopefully as Bridget started up the stairs. “Hurry!”
Lindsay and Cici turned toward the workshop. “He probably hates us,” Lindsay said unhappily.
“It can’t be easy,” Cici agreed somberly “a teenage boy living with three old women...”
“We are not old!” Lindsay exclaimed indignantly.
Cici grinned, and bumped her friend’s shoulder with her own. “Come on,” she said, “relax. Parenting would be no fun at all if you couldn’t torture the kids once in a while. Besides, Noah should count himself lucky. He skated on a technicality. We would have been perfectly within our rights to take away