Free Honeysuckle Love by S. Walden

okay,” Clara said smoothing her sister’s hair. She gently peeled Beatrice’s arms from around her body. “I want you to go back into your room for just a minute.”
    Beatrice shook her head violently.
    “Please, Beatrice,” Clara said. “I’ll be right in.”
    Beatrice walked back to her room grudgingly, turning back to look at Clara once. Clara had never seen Beatrice look so terrified, and she never wanted to see it again. She turned to the front door when a third knock sounded.
    Very carefully, Clara pulled back the dusty curtain that hung over a horizontal window running the width of the top of the door. She pulled it back a fraction and was just tall enough to see outside if she stood on her tiptoes. She let out a sigh of relief.
    It was Ms. Debbie from across the street.
    “It’s okay, Bea!” Clara called. “You can come out!”
    Beatrice was already by Clara’s side as she opened the door for their neighbor.
    Ms. Debbie was a formidable lady, dressed in a housecoat, hair in curlers as she pushed past the girls into the living room. She took a seat on the couch and waved the girls over. Clara shut the door and walked with Beatrice into the living room. They settled themselves on the floor in front of Ms. Debbie.
    “Girls, you can’t fool me,” Ms. Debbie began. “Lord in heaven, it’s hot as hell in here!” She pulled at the collar of her housecoat.
    “Ms. Debbie, I don’t know what you mean,” Clara replied. She swallowed.
    “Clara, give me a break,” Ms. Debbie said flatly. “I haven’t seen your deadbeat mom in a month! Where is she?”
    Clara and Beatrice remained silent.
    “Where is she?” Ms. Debbie pressed.
    “We don’t know,” Beatrice said quietly. In that moment she felt like it were her fault that their mother disappeared. Ms. Debbie watched as Beatrice’s face fell.
    “It’s not your fault your mother is gone, honey,” she said gently. “She has . . . issues. Let’s just put it that way.” She considered the girls. “Where are the lights?”
    “We don’t have any at the moment,” Clara replied. “Our electricity was turned off because Mom hadn’t paid the bill for the past three months.”
    Ms. Debbie growled. “How have you been eating?”
    “Sandwiches. And we use the wood stove to cook even though it’s really hot,” Clara explained.
    “Good God,” Ms. Debbie replied crossing herself. “And washing?”
    “We heat water.” Clara lowered her eyes. “Please don’t call them,” she said softly.
    “Call who?” Ms. Debbie asked. Her fat face glistened with sweat.
    “The state,” Clara said. “I’m working. I’m working to pay off the bills, and Beatrice and I are doing fine. We don’t want to leave. I’m begging you. Please don’t call.” Her eyes filled with tears.
    “Clara, I’ve no intention of calling the state,” Ms. Debbie said. ‘They’ve got their hands in enough of our business already. But I am concerned about you not having electricity. I don’t know how I feel about you lighting fires in this house.”
    “I’m responsible,” Clara argued.
    Ms. Debbie thought for a moment. “I know it. I wish you didn’t have to be so responsible.”
    “I’m working too,” Beatrice offered. “I walk dogs.”
    “And where do you walk dogs?” Ms. Debbie asked. She smiled at the young girl.
    “Oak Tower Trail,” Beatrice answered.
    “Well, I imagine that’s a lucrative business,” Ms. Debbie said.
    “What does ‘lucrative’ mean?” Beatrice asked.
    “Profitable,” Ms. Debbie explained. “It means I’m sure those people pay you well.”
    “Oh, they do!” Beatrice said grinning.
    Ms. Debbie stood up suddenly. “Come on,” she ordered. “We’re going to my house for breakfast.” She waddled towards the front door.
    “Ms. Debbie, we don’t want to be a bother,” Clara said.
    “Nonsense. When was the last time you had pancakes, Beatrice?” Ms. Debbie asked.
    “A million years ago!” Beatrice squealed running for