“Junie—flying—Dean—saaaad.” I drag out the last word on another sob.
“Awww, sweet Maisey. Honey. It’ll be okay. What you need to do is go sow your wild oats while she’s gone, and then you’ll forget it’s even Thanksgiving. While your mother is in prison and you get to enjoy pumpkin pie. Do you have my recipe? You know no one else’s recipe comes close.”
I sniffle a few times. Take a deep breath. Tell myself I’m okay. Junie will be back soon, she’s not leaving me for Dean forever, and Idohave some fantastic plans for this week. “You make the recipe on the side of the pumpkin can.”
“But I putmagicin it.”
“Mom.”
“Oh, that’s right. You can burn water. Probably don’t have the magic in your genes. Skips a generation. Do you think Junie will make pie for Dean and his floozy?”
“Mom.We arenotcalling her that.”
“Why not?”
“Becauseshewas not the one who wasmarriedwhen they started sleeping together.”
“She knew he was married, though. And he’s a man. They can’t—”
“So help me, I will hang up on you and not talk to you again until next year if you finish that thought.”
“Not crying anymore, are you?”
I pull the phone back and gape at it. “You are the worst.”
“And the best,” she chirps.
My phone dings in my ear, so I put Mom on speaker while I check to see what’s up.
And then I get teary eyed all over again. “Junie says they’re shutting the boarding door and she’ll ping me from Florida.”
Yes,Florida.
Dean and his parents decided that Junie deserved a warm beach getaway for Thanksgiving, so they rented a condo on a beach inFlorida.Where there are no bears. Where it’s warm. Where there’s a beach. No dead cows. They’d probably let her on the soccer team, even if she was late for tryouts.
“She’s never coming back, is she?” I whisper.
“Junie’s a smart girl. She can’t be swayed by beach trips and piles of early Christmas presents.”
“Oh God. She’s going to be swayed by the beach and presents.”
She snorts. “No, she won’t.”
“What if she’s miserable? She’s not stupid. She notices Dean only calls about every fourth time he says he will. She’s getting tired of the excuses. And he says this is to make it up to her, but what if she’s secretly resentful and she doesn’t feel right and she’s utterly miserable?”
“It’s only a week. She’s a strong girl. She’ll find her way through. Did I tell you that one of the guards was making eyes at me last week?”
I don’t even pretend I’m annoyed at the idea that she’d flirt with her prison guard. I’m too grateful for the distraction she’s providing.
And don’t tell me she didn’t know to callright now.
She probably pulled prison strings to switch call times. Because that’s exactly the sort of thing my mom would do.
She’s there with me while I stare at the runway as the plane that I know is Junie’s finally takes off, and she talks to me as I start my drive home, not warning me she’s about to be cut off, as usual, which happens about five minutes into my hour-long drive.
I stop in Hell’s Bells to grab a sandwich from the deli and to smile at the picture of Uncle Tony and me still hanging on the wall. I wish Junie had memories of him, but she’s settling in at the home he left us, so I’ll have to be satisfied with that.
“You okay, Maisey?” Izzy, the deli’s owner, asks me as she hands me my sandwich.
