Free Keeping the Moon by Sarah Dessen Page A

"I'd better get my errands done early."
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    This meant that when I set off for work, Mira rode alongside me on her bike, pedaling slowly. She was wearing leggings, a big paisley shirt, and the purple high-tops, her hair tucked under a baseball cap. And, of course, her Terminator glasses.
    She always acted like she didn't notice that people were looking at her, ignoring the laughter and occasional horn beep. That was fine; I was embarrassed enough for both of us.
    When we got to the Quik Stop, right across the street from the restaurant, Mira turned in by the gas pumps and came to a squeaking stop. She waved to Ron behind the counter, who smiled and went back to his paper.
    "Okay," Mira said, getting off the bike and taking her pink vinyl purse from the front basket, "we need some white bread, sliced cheese ... and what else?"
    I thought for a second as a green Toyota Camry pulled up beside us. "Ummm ... I can't remember."
    "It was something," Mira said thoughtfully, pushing up her Terminator glasses. "What was it?"
    The door of the Camry slammed and I heard footsteps coming around the front of the car. "Soda?"
    "No, no. It wasn't that." She closed her eyes, thinking. "It was..."
    Someone was standing behind me now.
    "Milk!" Mira said suddenly, snapping her fingers. "It was milk, Colie. That's what it was."
    "Well, Mira Sparks," I heard a woman's voice say. "Aren't you something this morning."
    I didn't even have to turn around; I just glanced into the back
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    of the Camry. Sure enough, there was that baby, in a carseat, sound asleep with its big head hanging over to one side.
    "Hello, Bea," Mira said, acknowledging her. Then she hitched up her purse and said to me, "I'll see you this afternoon."
    "Okay." I turned, facing Bea Williamson, who narrowed her eyes at me. I took a few slow steps, unsure whether I should leave.
    Mira opened the door to the Quik Stop, then disappeared inside. Bea Williamson took the baby out of the car, settled it on one hip, and followed right behind her.
    Maybe nothing more would happen. Maybe Bea would leave it at just that tone, that one question. But I had been the butt of the joke long enough to know not to put much faith in the benefit of the doubt.
    I crossed the road to the Last Chance, dodging the morning traffic. But even as I chopped lettuce, the radio up full blast, I kept glancing back at the Quik Stop, wondering what was going on inside and upset with myself for not being there.
    It was a Friday, about a week later, when it happened.
    Fridays were usually crazy, with day-trippers and weekenders stopping in before hitting the beach. Morgan had almost every Friday off, in case Mark was in town, which left me to suffer through them with Isabel. I'd already had two large tables and at least ten small ones and it was only one-thirty
    "Your food's up," Isabel snapped. She balanced a huge tray on her shoulder, hurrying past the line of people still waiting to be seated.
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    "How's it going out there?" Norman asked as I started fraying my food. The music on the kitchen CD box was Stevie Wonder, loud. Isabel had been in a good mood that morning. Norman had on his green sunglasses and was grooving out at the fryer, with Bick making salads and humming behind him.
    "Crazy," I told him. "At least three tables waiting."
    "Four or more," Isabel said from behind me, reaching around to grab a side of fries. "I need that burger, Norman," she said, leaning closer to the window. "Pronto."
    I stepped aside and Norman raised his eyebrows, smiling. He had kind of grown on me. He might have been an art freak, but he was a sweet art freak: he always remade my food quickly, even when the error was my fault, and made a point of setting aside the leftover bags of low-fat potato chips, which he knew I loved. On slow nights when we closed together we'd stand, him on his side of the food window, me on mine, and just talk. Days I worked with Isabel he was my only ally, but from the kitchen he couldn't do