“Oh?” I asked, knowing exactly what she meant. Mud wanted a church-style greenhouse—a twenty-by-forty-foot structure, dug down into the soil, with French drains, cement-block foundation, galvanized steel supports, raised beds, a working water supply, a planting station, shades to block extreme heat and sun, easy-to-open vents, and eight-millimeter twin-wall polycarbonate cover material. Apropergreenhouse had been my dream for years, and so I let her talk, showing me illustrations on her new computer tablet, having fun with a device thathad scared her silly the first time she held it, only a week or so past.
“There’s lots of reasons to build a proper one. Logical reasons,” she concluded.
“I’m listening.”
“We can save money by growing our own food.” Finger tapping with each point, she continued. “We can trade veggies for half a pig in the fall like Mama does.” Tap. “We can sell veggies at Old Lady Stevens’ and Sister Erasmus’ market”—tap—“and at the town farmers’ market on Wednesdays.” Tap. “And we can show the lawyer and the judge how we can eat cheap and fresh. That’ll make ’em feel good about you getting custody of me.”
“Now you’re pulling out the big guns,” I said, secretly amused, and pleased that there had been no whining. Yet. “We’d have to go into debt,” I said.
That shut Mud up. Debt was against everything the church taught.
“I’d have to get a loan,” I said, “and the supplies you’re suggesting would run me a good ten thousand dollars, Mud. For ten thousand, we can buy from the church and still eat organic, still put up veggies and fruit. Ten thousand is a lot of money, and we’d still need to buy seeds and plants and roots.Andwe still need to address upgrades for the house like air-conditioning and a real hot water heater and a redesigned bathroom and laundry room and maybe even central heat. And add to that the cost of child care until you reach the age of sixteen.”
“I don’t need no child care.”
“You can’t be here alone at night if I’m out at work. It’s expensive. We need all that to make this place a proper home for you, according to what the court is likely to require. That’s a much bigger part of the custody problem than not having a greenhouse.”
“I reckon that’s a lot.”
“It is. And it’s what it’ll take to bring us into the twenty-first century.” I studied my sister and said, “I have the list of upgrades to the house suggested by the lawyer. Brother Thad will have me an estimate soon.”
Mud took a breath as if diving into deep water. “You makemore’n fifty thousand dollars a year,” she said, looking at her hands tightening into fists on the kitchen table. “And your living costs last year were around fifteen thousand. You being a tree for six months meant your income was less—due to you bein’ on disability and everything. But your cost of living while you were a tree was negalable so you came out ahead.”
Oho.“Negligible,”I corrected, wondering how Mud had figured out all this. JoJo had hacked into my accounts and paid my few bills while I was out on “disability,” but Jo would never give out my private information. My family thought I had been undercover, not on disability. The story had been a total fabrication to appease the Nicholsons until a solution could be found for calling me back from being a tree. Only Mud had known, and she must have gone through my bills, my bank statements, my mail, all my financial papers. “Somebody’s been sneaking around, searching through my financial records.”
Mud blushed at the accusation, though she looked more defiant than ashamed.
“And talking to an adult who surely gave you the logic and reason for this argument.”
“I ain’t told nobody. I sneaked through your’n private papers while you wassupposedlyundercover.”
My sister had just called me a lying sneak. Interesting. I leaned over the counter, bracing my elbows on the top.
“Then I got Sam to take me to the library and your friend there helped me research what happens to the money when a government employee goes on disability. When I knew most everything I could find, I added up all the money on the calculator on your computer, so I know everything. Ishouldbe ashamed.” Her face went mulish and she plowed on. “But I ain’t. Not really. I want a greenhouse.”
“And now we have the change in tone that says you’re trying to get your way as opposed to us working together, making good decisions for our family.”
Mud looked up at me with a fierce delight in her eyes. I had a sudden fear that I was about to be bested at this discussion.
“If I’m supposed to make good decisions, then I needed all the information to make them. Knowing family income is part of that decision-making.” Mud’s glee spread. “That there?That’s what’s called being hoisted on your own petard.” When I didn’t reply she went on. “Petardsounds nasty, but it ain’t. What you’un did? Saying you’un was wantin’ me to be a modern woman all the while keeping me in the dark? That there is what a churchman would do.”
The insult landed on me like a roundhouse blow. “Not exactly,” I said, putting my feet flat on the floor and drawing through the wood to the land for calm and steadiness. “What I’m wanting is for you to grow up into an honorable woman, not a sneak. Churchwomen sneak around because that is the only way they can ever find out things. You and me? We aren’t churchwomen anymore and I don’t expect you to act like one.”
“That ain’t fair.”
“It’s totally fair.”
Mud’s lips firmed and she scowled. “But how’m I supposed to find out stuff if I don’t sneak?”
“You could have asked,” I said calmly. “I happen to think you’re old enough to know financial things, so I’d have told you the truth. But you didn’t give me a chance. If you’re going to live here, we both have to be honest and respect my privacy and my rules.”
Mud’s entire face puckered up in irritation and confusion and maybe a little culture shock, deliberating. She raised a hand and smoothed her hair as if noticing that it was bunned up. Absently, she removed the pins and finger-combed it down. “I’m sorry. I want to be an honorable woman. A city woman, but an honorable city woman. What do I do now to fix things?”
I sat down at the kitchen table, thinking over the chain of logic and arguments that led us to this point. “Apology accepted. As to your request, your argument was succinctly reasoned and effectively debated. Sam help you with that?”
“Only the sal’nt parts. But the delivery was all mine. So... Did my sneaking around keep us from getting a greenhouse?”
“Salient.But you used it properly. There’s a lot of ifs and buts.Ifthe custody hearing goes our way, andifwe can afford the cost of the house upgrades, andifSam and Daddy want to provide greenhouse labor, andifI can afford the greenhouse materials too, then yes.”
