It’s #BookQW and our heroine ‘needs’ a break!
More from Chpater 1:
Fern had most summer days to herself, which made arranging chores and babysitting jobs around her secret trips easier.
Today was not one of those days.
Inside their SUV parked in the driveway, she scooted the box labeled wrens w/ bugs and Glass-Fragile into place. She was about to close the hatchback when her mom came to the door of the garage they used as a glassmaking studio.
Mom looked ready to go, her curly brown braided hair trailing down the front of her blouse and hanging past the waist of the dressy jeans she always wore for art shows. But in her soft Irish accent she called, “How many boxes of flowers do I have?” and turned back inside.
Fern squelched a groan. She had one day to finish Gran’s projects—less if Mom didn’t get going soon. But Mom didn’t know that, couldn’t know that. Fern ducked into the vehicle. She’d planned to leave by eight this morning. It was nearly eleven. Their inspection started tomorrow, at noon. Brush didn’t cut itself, ponds didn’t magically fill and wildflowers didn’t sprout from nowhere. I’ll just have to work as fast as possible once I get to Gran’s.
“Wish you’d made a list,” Fern muttered. Like Gran. “Eighteen of flowers, thirty-seven total! Is that all you need?” she called, trying not to sound too impatient. Mom always repeated the same stuff when packing for a show, but today, of all days, why was it taking forever?
Straightening, she hovered one hand over the hatchback, then pulled her phone from her cargo pants pocket, checked the sunrise time for Glasgow and set tomorrow morning’s—Friday’s—alarm for seven hours earlier.
A shadow fell across her phone, and Mom handed Fern the tool bag—which she never packed until the last minute—and closed the studio door. “Five hundred pieces should be enough stock for three days.”
Fern let out a breath. Finally.
She put the tools into Mom’s torch case, zipped it and then closed the hatchback. “Inventory and display stuff. Your demonstration supplies. Your cooler is on the seat, water bottle. Got the cashbox? Your purse—yeah, both are here. I think you’re ready, Mom. Long drive to Colorado Springs. You should get going.” She opened the driver’s door.
“That anxious to get rid o’ me, huh?” Mom smiled up at her, her hazel eyes bright with laughter.
~~~
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