“I’ve got nowhere to be, Ma,” I reminded her, rolling to face the door. “I can sleep in until noon if I want to.”
“But why would you want to?”
“Because I have nowhere to be.”
Mom wrinkled her nose and leaned against the doorjamb. “Well, why don’t you come with me over to pick up Gran? We need to go grocery shopping.”
“You’re going grocery shopping together?”
“It’s more fun when you bring a friend.”
“She’s your mother.”
“So? I’m your mother. Are you saying I’m not your friend?”
“Of course you’re my friend,” I replied, groaning. “You’re my best friend. My only friend.”
“I’m not your only friend,” she argued, waving me off. “But I’m glad I’m your best friend. You’re my best friend, too. But don’t tell your Auntie Rose I said that. Now, get up and get dressed. We’re leaving in half an hour.”
She left the room, leaving the door cracked open.
“Definitely my only friend,” I muttered into the pillow before dragging myself off the bed.
The contents of my suitcases were strewn over the floor from the night before when I couldn’t remember where my pajamas were, and I picked my way through them to find something towear. No jeans. On top of everything else, I couldn’t bring myself to deal with leg prisons all day. I pulled on a dress and some thick socks and dug through the largest suitcase to find a sweater I could throw over it.
Fifteen minutes later, my teeth and hair were brushed, I’d pulled on my boots, and I was stomping down the stairs.
“Harper Rose,” my dad called from the kitchen. “You want coffee?”
“Dear God, yes,” I called back, making my way there.
“Travel mug,” my mom ordered. “Since you took your sweet-ass time.”
“I did not.”
“Here, Harpy,” my dad said, handing me the mug. “You good?”
“Yeah?” I looked up from my coffee. “Why?”
“Your face is funny.”
“Gee, thanks.” I scowled at him.
“You’re pretty as ever,” he clarified. “But you look like someone kicked your dog.”
“I don’t have a dog.”
He shot me a look telling me he didn’t find me funny.
“I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head. “Everything’s fine. I mean, I got fired from my freaking job and I’m homeless because the apartment came with the job and I have no car because that also came with the job, but you know. I’m peachy. Just great. Fabulous, really.”
“You’ll find a new job.”
“Of course I will,” I replied automatically. “But it still sucks.”
“Not worth riskin’ prison time,” Dad said dryly. “Ask me how I know.”
I snickered as my mom glared at my dad before rolling her eyes.
