Somebody's Baby by Lurlene McDaniel

Author:Lurlene McDaniel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2017-07-11T04:00:00+00:00

Sloan zipped along the interstate in her rental convertible, the mid-July sky sliding from twilight to darkness in a slow fade. She glanced at her dashboard gauges and noticed that the gas tank needle pointed to empty. She was near the off-ramp for the rural back roads that would take her to Lindsey’s house, so she exited, pulled into a gas station, refueled, went inside to pay. She waited in a short line, heard the attendant’s radio playing in the background, and her own voice singing. She held back a self-satisfied smile. “Your album opened at number five on the country Billboard charts,” Terri had told her two days before on the phone, “and ‘Somebody’s Baby’ has crossed over to the pop charts. That’s a big deal, and the label is very happy.”

Sloan was happy too. She’d just come off a blistering tour in the northwest and was taking some overdue and necessary R&R. While waiting in line, she glanced around the station’s mini-mart, swept clean, and glowing with fluorescent lighting, at shelves stuffed with road food, refrigerated cases of water and soda, and countertops crowded with last-minute grab-and-go items. Her eyes hit a dead stop on a large glass jar near the register, partially filled with money. The label read: PLEASE HELP! UNPAID MEDICAL BILLS. Underneath the label was a photo of Lindsey Ridley. When it was Sloan’s turn to pay for gas, she nodded toward the jar. “Friend of yours?”

“Sad story,” the woman behind the counter said. “Poor gal’s dying from cancer and has bills stacked up to the ceiling. No insurance. Not a lick.”

Sloan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How do you know?”

“I know her friend, Gloria, and she’s set these jars all over town so folks can donate. Every penny matters.” The attendant handed Sloan her change, and Sloan stuffed it into the jar and hurried to her car. Could this be true? Why hadn’t someone told her? She gunned the engine and shot down the two-lane road, and by the time she’d reached Lindsey’s, she was angry. The porch light was on, casting yellow light outward, and moths were flapping helplessly at the fixture. Sloan knocked, and the screen door was flung open by Toby, who hugged her around the waist and pulled her inside. “Thanks for the games!”

She patted Toby’s upturned face. “Did everything get here in time for your birthday?”

“Yes! Everything’s awesome. I got more games than all my friends!”

She’d sent him a new state-of-the-art gaming console, a TV just for game playing—the new set was positioned beside the other television—and a stack of the newest games for his age group.

Cole, sitting on the sofa with a game controller, stood awkwardly. Their eyes met, and he saw instantly that Sloan was upset. “Everything all right?”

“Where’s Gloria?”

Cole thumbed toward the kitchen doorway. “Making popcorn. Can I help you?”

“Not yet,” Sloan said, stepping around the furniture groupings, “but I want to talk to you later.”

Cole eased down onto the couch, and Toby bounced down beside him and pushed the button to un-pause the game.

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