“Don’t you already have all those?” I ask her.
“Yes, but I like them,” she says. “It would be nice to see them in Angel Mountain. And maybe she’ll have more stuff I’ll like. She really gets me.”
How can Meg possibly think that Taylorgets herafter five minutes?
“You have a library card,” I remind her.
“It’s not the same,” she says. “I like books that aremine. Plus, the bookshop’s right there.”
She doesn’t say what I know she’s thinking—that she’s about to spend practically the whole month of December sitting around the boring tree lot with me after school and on the weekends.
Last year, we sold trees for the farm out of the lot by the pet shop. Meg spent plenty of time visiting with the pets and playing on the arcade machine they had just outside. And when it snowed, she would sit under the roof overhang with a book.
I know it’s for the best that we moved to a better spot up the street, but our new location is definitely lacking in amenities for my little helper.
“We’re going to buy a new window?” Meg asks.
“Yep,” I say, nodding.
“Will we go back and put it in while she’s there?” she asks.
“That’s the plan,” I tell her. “We have to make it like it was before.”
“What about her dinner?” Meg asks.
It’s all I can do not to laugh. I’m pretty sure she was eating macaroni and cheese right out of the pan when I came in.
“She’s probably not hungry after that,” I suggest.
“The tree ruined her dinner,” Meg retorts. “It’s probably got pine needles in it. Or glass! We have to bring her a new one.”
“I don’t have time to cook for her,” I protest. Truthis, I barely have time to cook for us. We’re lucky my parents are around to lend a hand here and there. But I try not to lean on them too much.
“We can stop and get chicken,” Meg says.
I glance in the rearview mirror again and her eyes are sparkling. My kiddo loves fried chicken almost as much as she loves her books, and I suspect maybe she was doing a little steering of her own in this conversation.
“I guess we haven’t eaten out yet this week,” I hedge.
“Yes,”Meg says with a victorious grin. “We should get enough for all of us. She shouldn’t eat all by herself. Plus, you’ll be hungry after fixing the window.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that you drive a hard bargain?” I tease her.
“Yes,” she laughs. “Youdid.”
“Oh, right,” I pretend to remember.
And then she’s back in her book with a vengeance, leaving me to think about how I’m going to get us around the mountain to the nearest big box hardware store and back with supplies and a box of chicken before Taylor gives up on me.
Miraculously,the traffic is non-existent and the lines are short, so I’m pulling back into the spot in front of the tree lot with my stomach grumbling at the scent ofour dinner while the sunset is still painting the sky in pinks and reds.
“We made it,” Meg says happily, undoing her seatbelt and scrambling out of the truck with the chicken before I can even turn it off.
I hop out and grab the replacement window out of the back along with a bag of other supplies, and follow her up to the bookshop.
The tree lot looks pretty lonely, though that makes sense—it’s not like anyone who stopped by would stick around to see if I was coming back. I’m sure I lost at least a dozen sales to the commercial lot outside the big grocery store while I was gone. That plus the cost of the window would make this a pretty unprofitable day. But it’s probably better not to think about it.
“…and it’s alreadyso good,”Meg is saying as I step into the shop. “Thank you for giving it to me.”
