Lolo Weaver Swims Upstream by Polly Farquhar

Author:Polly Farquhar [Farquhar, Polly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holiday House
Published: 2023-04-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Is it sneaking in if it’s your house? And it’s just that you’re not supposed to be there? I mean, I have a key, after all. I went over right after I went my way and Eddie and Ivy went theirs, and tiptoed around, gathering what I needed. The house was closed up and stuffy. No one had opened windows or run the AC in a while. Dirty dishes sat in the sink, and I thought about washing them. It’s the kind of thing Gram would have done, before. Bustle on over and wash the dishes and put a casserole in the fridge and collect the mail and then volunteer Papa to mow the lawn. So I washed the dishes. It’s not my favorite thing. It was also a two-part tactical error. One, because if anybody ever thought I had enough gumption to clean up after a mess without being told, they’d think it was something I could do all the time. And two, because it used up too much of my time and it took me longer to find the sunscreen and gather up some snacks.

I was digging around under my parents’ bathroom sink looking for the waterproof sunscreen when I heard the sounds of someone in the house who wasn’t trying to be sneaky about it.

Dad.

His boots thunked on the floor as he toed them off, and his big key ring with all the rental keys jingled as he hung it on the hook by the door.

I stepped into the hallway with the sunscreen. “Dad?”

“What are you doing here, Lo?”

I held up the sunscreen. “I needed some stuff.”

“You should be at your grandmother’s.” He looked tired. He needed a shave, and his hair was matted down. His shirt was sweat stained. I didn’t get close enough to tell, but I’d bet he also didn’t smell good.

“I just stopped by.”

“Does she know you’re here? Your gram?”

“Probably not. I stopped by on my way home from school.”

He nodded and poured a big glass of water and then dug in the freezer for some microwave food. If he noticed anything about the clean dishes, he didn’t say so. Even though it should have been good news, I was disappointed.

“How’s Mom? Can you take me over tonight?”

“Sorry, Lo,” he answered, ripping open the microwave dinner box. I knew he meant it. He was sorry. “I’ve got a few hours before my shift at the warehouse and I won’t be heading to the hospital till after. I’m trying to stay the night there.” Dad had told me how the room had an uncomfortable bench that turned into an uncomfortable bed. He said his feet hung off the edge. “I know your mom would sure like your company, though. Your gram will take you.”

I shook my head. “You know how she feels about city traffic. And city parking lots. And parking garages. And, you know. How she feels about just doing stuff.”

He said what Mom always said. “Your gram is tough as nails.”

“I don’t know about that, Dad.

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