Free Covet by Tracey Garvis Graves Page A

day of the new school year drew near, Josh and Jordan needed clothes. They’d outgrown almost everything in their closets and the items that still fit looked decidedly worse for wear. Josh’s penchant for playing football had ripped the knees from most of his jeans, and Jordan had a tendency to ruin her clothes with large splotches of Magic Marker ink. Mindful of our budget, I avoided the stores I normally shopped at and decided it would be in our best interest to economize. My kids’ clothes might not be higher-end, but they’d be free of holes and unmarred by stains. Josh and Jordan didn’t care where their wardrobes were purchased, and I was grateful that they were too young to pay much attention to the latest trends; those days would come soon enough.
    We drove to T.J.Maxx instead of the mall. In the girls’ department, Jordan zeroed in on a pink and black plaid skirt and a white button-down shirt with a necktie in the same plaid pattern threaded through the collar. “I want to wear this on the first day of school, Mommy,” she said.
    “Sure,” I said, checking to make sure it was the right size before placing it in the cart. “It’s adorable.” The temperature would still be quite warm when school started in late August, so I didn’t need to worry about buying matching tights; Jordan could wear the ensemble with a cute pair of ballet flats. She selected several more outfits, choosing her favorite styles and colors, while her brother fidgeted. “We’ll pick out your clothes next, bud,” I said.
    “Okay,” he said, clearly bored and grumpy that the store didn’t have a sporting goods department so he could try and talk me into buying him a new football or basketball. He gave me no input when we finally reached the boys’ department, so I picked out his clothes and decided to be happy that he didn’t have a strong opinion about what he wore.
    On the first day of school, after a special breakfast of cinnamon rolls and bacon, I posed them in front of the fireplace and snapped pictures. “I want Daddy to watch us get on the school bus,” Jordan said.
    “He will,” I assured her, though one glance toward the closed office door made me wonder if Chris would accompany us the way he always had in years past. I exhaled when the door opened five minutes later, noticing the circles under Chris’s eyes. Had he slept at all? His shorts looked looser, almost baggy, and I made a mental note to make sure he was eating enough.
    When it was time to leave, the kids hoisted their new backpacks—also from T.J.Maxx—onto their shoulders and followed me out the door, Chris lagging slightly behind.
    Bridget and Elisa were already waiting at the bus stop, cameras in hand. Sam and Skip, looking a bit out of place, wore dress slacks and button-down shirts and looked as if they couldn’t wait to leave for work; this would be their token appearance and it wouldn’t be repeated until the following year. Julia and Justin joined us moments later; I noted her oversize sunglasses, which were hardly necessary because the sky was a dull gray.
    “Rough night?” I asked.
    “I’m just tired,” she replied. “I was up late.”
    Bridget’s four boys were outfitted in Nike athletic apparel from head to toe. I winced when I thought about the cost of the shoes alone, but I’d never heard her complain about money, or more specifically about not having enough. Sam worked at a stock brokerage firm and specialized in options trading, which sounded a lot like gambling except with other people’s money. It was a risky profession in the best of times, and I often wondered how he was faring with the economy in its current state. Whenever anyone commented on the recession or lamented the balance in their bank accounts, Bridget would say, “Sam handles all that. I’m just the one who brings the clothes and shoes and groceries home.”
    “Where did you get Jordan’s adorable outfit?” Elisa asked.
    “T.J.Maxx,” I said, taking a