Free Spirit Level by Sarah N. Harvey Page B

Nori. “She was watching me put my hair in a bun for dance class and she asked me why I didn’t just cut it off. She used to dance, and her hair was long. She said it would be freeing.”
    “And is it?” Nori asks.
    Lucy sits down and sips her lemonade. Then she takes off her hat and runs her fingers over her head. “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s weird to feel a breeze on my neck. And it’s lighter, for sure.”
    She sounds so hesitant that I pipe up, “I think it’s kinda cute. And it’ll grow, right?”
    Nori glares at me. “I cut my hair off when Lucy was a baby. I’ve always regretted it.” She undoes her ponytail and shakes her head. Her thick hair falls to her shoulders. Jet black streaked with gray.
    “It’s just hair, Nori,” Lucy says, but she doesn’t sound convinced. She looks like a baby bird—fuzzy and vulnerable. “Can we drop it?”
    Angela sighs. “We’re still concerned about, well, about the influence your sisters are having on you.” She looks over at me apologetically. “We need to get to know you, Harriet. You and Meredith. You can understand that, can’t you?”
    “Yeah, I guess so,” I say. “My mom’s the same way.”
    “Overprotective?” Lucy glares at her parents.
    I laugh. “Yeah. You could say that. She knows too much about bad parents.”
    “Why is that?” Nori asks.
    No way I’m telling her that my mom ran away from her own parents when she was younger than me, so all I say is, “Her work. She’s a sociologist. She studies the lives of homeless girls, runaways. When she’s not lusting after Craftsman houses.”
    Nori and Angela laugh. Even Lucy cracks a smile.
    Nori stands up and says, “I’m going to have a shower. It was nice to meet you, Harriet. Sorry for the rough start.”
    “No problem,” I say. “And call me Harry. Everyone else does.”
    She nods and heads inside.
    “So now that you’ve met us,” Angela says, “do you think maybe you and your mom could come for dinner soon? We’ll invite Meredith and her friend Alex. Eat some great food, get to know each other.”
    “Sure,” I say. “That would be awesome.” Any opportunity to see Alex seems good to me.
    “Can Verna come too?” Lucy asks. “She’s kind of like Harry’s grandma. And she’s met Meredith and me already.”
    “Plus she could bring her famous tres leches cake,” I add. “It’s amazing.”
    “Verna’s awesome,” Lucy adds. “She runs this totally retro hair salon.”
    “More the merrier, I suppose,” Angela says. “Especially if there’s cake. But for the record, Lucy, we’re still not happy about your impulsive behavior. Or Meredith’s part in it. We’ll discuss it later.”
    Lucy grimaces, and I get up to leave. “Thanks for the lemonade,” I say. “I’d better get home before Mom starts to worry. And it’s my turn to make dinner.”
    Angela nods approvingly. I don’t think she and Nori are going to be worrying about me leading Lucy astray. Anyone with half a brain can see I’m no threat. Time will tell about Meredith though.

    After a flurry of texts, our family dinner is set up for Wednesday, the night before I’m due to meet Alex again. Verna is on board with making a cake, and Mom buys wine. I am about to buy flowers for Angela and Nori when I remember Nori’s garden. Coals to Newcastle , Verna would say. Like giving a bottle of wine to a vintner. Or bread to a baker. But I think I should take something. Then I have a moment of inspiration. Last year, Verna and I picked strawberries and made jam. It’s delicious, and we’ve been kind of rationing it out. I was too depressed to go picking this year, and Verna didn’t want to go alone, so we didn’t replenish our stock, but maybe we have some left. I rummage around in the cupboard and find one solitary unopened jar. I don’t think Mom will mind if I take it. It’s for a good cause, after all. There’s a label on it—not a fancy one, just an office label—that says Strawbs 2014 in