That seemed to surprise Mama because she was silent for a moment, before she finally said, “How are you going to get there? I can’t let you use my car every day.”
I didn’t know why not—it wasn’t like she went anywhere, other than the grocery store, and occasionally the fabric store.
“Maybe you could drop me off.”
“And how would you get home?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I could get a ride from another employee or something. Just until I make enough to buy a car.”
She snorted. “Oh, so we’re just supposed to keep buying Ruthie’s diapers so you can buy a car.”
No. That’s why I want a job… duh. How else am I supposed to be able to buy diapers?
“Maybe I could get a car loan from the bank, then, and just make payments.”
“What about insurance? Gas? Maintenance?”
“I mean, I understand those are expenses I’d have, too.”
Mama pursed her lips like she’d eaten something sour, then grumbled, “We’ll discuss this when your father gets home.”
Greeaaat. Can’t wait.
“Okay, but we really need to do it tonight because I told Lainey I’d let her know after I talked to you.”
“Lainey?”
“Lainey Beaumont. The bakery’s owner.”
My mother nodded toward the counter where I was using the biscuit cutter, changing the subject. “Don’t twist; press straight down.”
I didn’t know why I couldn’t just drop the dough onto a cookie sheet. Rolling and cutting seemed like such a waste of time and dough.
Still, Mama’s kitchen, Mama’s rules.
Someday I’d have my own kitchen and make biscuits however I wanted.
I might even get them in a can and pop them open—something my mother would consider blasphemous.
I felt a smile form when I thought about serving them to my parents and never telling them they were store-bought.
Chapter Five
Jessica
Ruthie had fallen asleep by the time I put the casserole dish in the oven. Mama put her back in her crib, then returned to the kitchen and looked me over before suggesting, “Why don’t you go get cleaned up. Curl your hair and put on that pretty pink sundress you have.”
I chuckled wryly. “I don’t think that will fit me anymore.”
“You should try.”
“Mama, I got that dress in high school. I don’t even think I could get it past my hips right now. I still have twenty-five pounds of baby weight to lose.”
She ran her gaze from my head to my toes, then back up again, and must have noticed my extra curves as she said, “Fine—wear one of your church dresses, then.”
“Why can’t I just wear what I had on earlier?” It’d been good enough to meet with Chancellor Vought.
“For goodness sake, Jessica Rose, you can’t wear pants to dinner with Elder Roberts!”
