Chapter 18

Bret says, “Things are different now. Life is better.” He shakes his head, kneads his forehead. Turns to the window, then back at me. “I got my GED. Things are getting better.”

“Bret, that’s great. I am proud of you.”

“It was hard,” he says, “but I’m changing.”

“Life is hard. You have to keep trying.”

“My mother is real proud of me.”

“She should be.”

“She wants to make it right with you. She wants to apologize.”

The cacophony of punishment in Janice’s voice a year ago still yammers in my head like a skipping stone. “Maybe some other time.”

“No time like the present.”

His comment sits heavily on my chest. My throat tightens. I ask, changing the subject, “How are you going to hide that present from her until Christmas?”

His shoulders slip slightly. “I’m a fast runner. She won’t see me.”

I laugh. “Then it’s a plan.”

He fidgets.

“I could hold on to it for you until next week,” I volunteer.

He shakes his head. “I can handle it.”