“I’ll take the front tire off her bike,” Lou decided.
“I need to skip ahead to the chapter on discipline in my library book,” Naomi decided. “Damn it! I hate reading out of chronological order.”
“Judith’s daughter changes the Wi-Fi password on her kids and doesn’t change it back until they’re ungrounded,” Amanda suggested helpfully.
Waylay returned with a now empty jar, and I felt Naomi take another deep breath.
“Mrs. Felch is in way more trouble than you are, Waylay. But Knox is right. You have to come to me with this stuff. Don’t tell me everything’s fine when it’s not fine. I’m here to help. You can’t be sneaking out and exacting revenge on everyone who wrongs you. Especially not with innocent little field mice.”
“I brought food and I was going to put water in the drawer with them,” Waylay explained.
“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” Naomi said. “Your grandparents are going to take you home. It’s up to them whether you have to scrub floors or if you still get to watch movies tonight.”
“It’ll definitely be movies,” Lou whispered.
“But you have to do all the dinner dishes,” Amanda added.
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Waylay said quietly. She lifted her eyes to look at Naomi. “And I’m sorry for not telling you.”
“Apology accepted,” Naomi said. She swooped down and gave the girl a quick hug. “Now, I have to get back to work.”
“I’ll drive you,” I volunteered.
“Thank you. I’ll see everyone in the morning,” she said wearily.
There was a chorus of good-byes, and Naomi headed for the truck.
I waited until she opened the passenger door, then interrupted Amanda, who was making plans to stop for ice cream on their way home. “Can you two do me a favor and swing by Honky Tonk to pick up your Explorer? I’ll drive Naomi home tonight.”
I had plans for her.
TWENTY-EIGHT
THIRD BASE
Knox
“She ran away from home,” Naomi said, staring out the window and clutching the bag of warm pretzels in her lap.
“She didn’t run away. She snuck out,” I argued.
“Either way, how does that make me look as a guardian? I let an eleven-year-old walk into town with a jar of mice and a computer virus.”
“Daze, you need to stop gettin’ yourself so worked up over this custody thing. Do you really think any judge in their right mind is going to decide Way is better off with her mom?”
She turned flashing eyes on me. “How about when your life choices are under a microscope by the legal system, you can decide not to get worked up?”
I shook my head and turned onto a trail barely wide enough for my truck.
“This isn’t work,” she observed.
“Not goin’ back to work yet,” I told her as we bumped along the rutted track.
“I need to get back. I have a shift that I should have already been working,” she insisted.
“Baby, you need to stop obsessing about the things you should be doing and make some time for the shit you wanna do.”
“I want to get back to work. I don’t have time for you to murder me in the woods today.”