Blended by Sharon M. Draper

Author:Sharon M. Draper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers

CHAPTER 37

Exchange Day

THIS SUNDAY, it’s Mom and I who are late for the Great Exchange. Real late. Mom’s car is an ancient Chevy—built back in the nineties, I think. It would be cool if she fixed it up like an antique, but it’s just plain old. And even though I remind her when I think about it, the car is way overdue for an oil change and a tune-up. The appointment slip, dated November of last year, is still stuck to the refrigerator door with a bumblebee magnet. So her car breaks down occasionally.

Today is one of those days. She’s driving—John Mark’s truck is in the shop. The car coughs, then farts, then just stops. She rolls it to the side of the street.

“Looks like we’re gonna have a bit of an auto adventure!” she tells us.

John Mark gets out his phone. “I’ll call Triple A. But it’ll take them forever to show up.”

Mom catches my eye with a gleam in hers and says with sass, “Don’t worry—I got this!”

John Mark looks at her with a Prove it! face.

Mom smirks at him with the confidence of a lady who long ago figured out how to do things without a knight in shining armor to save her.

She pops the hood, fiddles with some wires, then pulls a toolbox from the trunk.

“C’mere,” she says to me. She hands me a wrench. “Hold this secure while I turn this gauge.”

I’ve seen her do stuff like this before—fix leaky pipes, unplug a clogged sink, or smack a glob of spackle on a hole in the wall. She tinkers with the guts of the car, getting her hands covered with oil. It takes her a while, but eventually she calls out to John Mark, “Crank it up!” He does. The motor gives one short cough, then roars back to life.

“You are amazing,” John Mark hoots at Mom as she wipes her hands on a rag. He’s looking at her like she’s just cured cancer or something. She beams back at him. Oh, gag me.

“Are we gonna be late?” I ask, checking my phone.

“Not if I break the speed limit!” Mom answers, winking. She guns the engine and takes off.

But even though she hurries, and turns some corners way too fast, we are still crazy late as we pull into the parking lot. Mom’s pale. John Mark’s face is flushed. Even I am starting to sweat.

Then I spy Dad’s Mercedes parked two cars over. Dad’s sitting inside. This is not gonna be good. He must have gone into the mall and come back out. Ooh—not good at all.

Next to Dad’s car is an empty handicapped spot. There are no other free spaces. Taking it is really bad, I know. So does Mom. But she pulls into it anyway. “We’re only going to be a minute!” she assures us.

She shuts off the engine. I grab my bags.

Dad and Anastasia get out of the Mercedes and just stand there, arms crossed. They are not smiling, either, and they don’t even have a reason to be upset after last time!

Mom and John Mark climb out of her car.

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