My gaze flicks over her shoulder toward my mother, who smiles brightly.
“You sure you’re okay with this, Bee?” I’m a masochist for asking because every other time she’s saidwhy wouldn’t I be?“Two weeks away from you—we’ve never been apart that long. Maybe I should cancel.”
“Cancel?” Her eyes go wide and her chin jerks back. “No. Stay longer. A treasure hunt might take all summer.” Her eyes lit up when I explained the plan—less Nash—to her yesterday. She could barely keep her legs still while I talked. “I’m going to CampGypsy while you’re gone. We’ll be busy. I won’t even be sad or notice you’re gone.”
Ouch.
“You want me gone all summer?” I don’t hide my hurt nor explain that I don’t have all summer because in two weeks a roofing company might start deshingling the store. “And I’m nottreasure hunting, I’m looking for gold coins that belonged to a bank.”
She frowns. “Sounds like a treasure.”
“Not the same.” Calling it gold coins sounds like less of a reason to have me committed. “Either way, I’m not leaving you all summer.”
“Well, I’ll be fine if you do.” She steps away from my hug. “It might take a while. To find everything. We really need the gold.”
“We do.” I hate that she’s worried about such adult problems. “But we’ll figure it out if I don’t find it. If you have to leave Fontain Academy, then we?—”
“I don’t want to leave,” she argues.
My brows pinch. “Since when? I thought you hated that uniform.”
“Since now.” Her brown eyes fill with unusual determination. “You have to find it.”
“Bennie,” my mom scolds from behind her. Bennie turns and my mom raises her eyebrows.
“Sorry,” Bennie says a little softer, looking back at me. “I just mean it’s not so bad. You were right is all. And I’ll be here with Gypsy and Aunt Reese. I’ll be fine.”
I blow out a long breath. I’m not in the mindset to deal with whatever this is with her. She has two days left of school next week and people here to take care of her after. She’ll be fine; I’ll deal with her new personality when I get home and know we can still afford food. “Okay.”
“And I’m not a baby.”
My brows pinch. “I know that. I never said y?—”
“Then don’t worry about coming back until you find it.” This isn’t me being crazy, she doesn’t care that I’m going. “And you can’t do it alone,” she says, “so don’t be stubborn.”
“Bennie,” my mom snaps, uncharacteristically firm. “Enough.”
Bennie doesn’t soften this time when she looks at my mom. “You’re the one who said we don’t have time.”
My mom’s eyes widen.
“Mom,” I huff, fully annoyed. Leave it to my mother to fight a surgeryandbe dramatic about it. “You have time.” Softer, to Bennie: “We have time, Bee. Gypsy is fine, we just don’t want her to get worse—” I cut my eyes to my mother along with a tight smile. “Or more difficult.”
Bennie’s lips twist to one side and my motherly guilt nearly wins its battle of talking me out of this. A reluctant “Fine” is all I get.
“I’ll call you,” I promise.
“Okay.” She takes another step away from me and looks at her feet. “But you don’t have to.”
Right.
“Love you, Bennie Francine.” I squeeze her arm one last time.
This, at least, earns me a small smile. “Love you back.”
Skipping toward the house, my call of “Bee” stops her. “I’m meeting the dad who doesn’t know about me, is that weird?”
She shrugs. “I wish someday I could meet mine.”
