Secrets and Scones by Laurel Remington

Author:Laurel Remington
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2018-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Maple Syrup

But how on earth can I promise something like that? I’m the one who failed to notice the burner was still on. I’m the one who draped the dish towel too close. The fire was my fault, and Mrs. Simpson is paying the price! I stand next to her, feeling as though my chest might explode. Suddenly, Mom storms across the street, dragging my sister along with her. She takes my arm and pulls me aside.

“Scarlett,” she scolds, “that man is a politician. You sounded very rude when you spoke to him. What’s going on?”

“Mom…” I choke. Tell her. No, don’t tell her. What should I do? I take a long breath to pull myself together. “Please can Mrs. Simpson stay at our house tonight? It sounds like the firefighters have made kind of a mess in there. She needs somewhere to go.”

Mom looks at Mrs. Simpson’s bent figure, then back at me. Her cheeks are red from the cold air and the effort of boring the pants off our neighbor with stories of the Superdrug product selection committee.

“Honestly, Scarlett!” she says in a harsh whisper. “We can’t take someone in just like that. Where would she sleep?”

“In my bed, or on the sofa bed—I don’t care.”

“But we don’t even know her—”

“We can’t just leave her out here!” I cry. “She’s our neighbor, and her house was on fire. We need to help her.”

“But I’ve got a deadline, I’m so busy…” Mom shakes her head. “You know that, Scarlett.”

I take a breath. “I do know that, Mom. You have to write your blog. What’s it going to be this time? ‘Help! My Teenage Daughter Is Taking in the Homeless Off the Street’? Or maybe, ‘Psst! My Thoughtless Daughter Made Me Miss My Deadline.’ But if you write that, I’m going to get online and be the first person to leave a comment.” I stand straighter. “I’m going to tell everyone—all your precious readers, Twitter followers, and Facebook friends—that the old woman who lives next door had no place to go and you wouldn’t even let her sleep on the sofa for one night.” I raise my chin. “How do you think that will make you look at your next meeting with Superdrug?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Mom spits. “If you ever do anything to hurt my reputation online, then I’ll…I’ll…”

“It’s just for one night, Mom. Let Mrs. Simpson stay with us for one night.”

Mom’s eyes skewer me but I can’t back down—not now. “We’re not done with this conversation.” She walks over to Mrs. Simpson—the old woman seems to have dozed off leaning on her stick—and puts her hand on her arm. “Mrs. Simpson?” Mom sounds as though she’s talking to a child. “I’m Claire—Scarlett’s mom. If you need a place to stay for tonight, you can come next door to our house.”

• • •

Somehow I manage to fall asleep because when I wake up the next morning, my body feels like lead. The memories of the night come rushing back—the fire I caused, standing up to Mr.

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