Free Thursdays At Eight by Debbie Macomber Page B

overalls and into her new skirt, Karen leaned sideways, searching for the shopping bag. She’d purchased the skirt in a close-out sale, so the price was affordable. It would be the perfect thing to wear on the days she subbed for the school district; in fact, it was the most respectable thing she’d bought in years. She could hurry into the ladies’ room and make a quick change. That way, she’d definitely gain a few points with her mother. Easy points.
    Pretending to be enthralled by the witless conversation taking place, Karen edged the shopping bag closer with her foot. She reached for it without success, so she had no option but to lean down, peek under the table and grab it.
    All at once her mother turned and glared at her accusingly. “What exactly are you doing?” she demanded.
    Caught in the act, Karen flashed a brilliant smile. “What do you mean?”
    â€œYou’re squirming around like a two-year-old in church.”
    â€œOh,” she said innocently. “I was getting my bag.”
    â€œYour bag? Whatever for?”
    â€œI thought I’d change into my new skirt.”
    Her mother nearly leapt out of her seat, then regained control. Tight-lipped, she spoke in a slow, stiff voice. “This is neither the time nor the place for you to be changing your clothes.”
    â€œI intended to put it on in the ladies’ room,” Karen told her.
    â€œAt the Yacht Club? Karen, do I need explain that the facilities here are not dressing rooms?”
    â€œMom, don’t get all worked up. I should’ve changed earlier. I meant to….” She hadn’t, but then how could she know that her mother and sister would arrive looking like they expected to have lunch with the Queen of England?
    â€œPlease.” Her mother was breathing hard. “Don’t embarrass me any further.”
    â€œEmbarrass you?” Karen asked in a puzzled voice. She’d had good intentions, and for her efforts she was rewarded with a hard, cutting look.
    â€œShall we order?” Victoria said, her voice slightly raised as the waitress approached the table.
    Both her mother and sister ordered the shrimp and crab quesadillas, plus avocado salads as planned, and Karen asked for the crab Louis. As soon as the waitress left, the three went quiet.
    Victoria was the first to speak, asking Catherine about her bridge club. It wasn’t long before the two of them were involved in a meandering conversation about people who were of little or no interest to Karen.
    She tried to comment once, but was cut off when their lunch arrived. The discussion continued with Karen feeling more and more out of place. It was just as bad as she’d feared. Worse.
    Suddenly her mother turned her attention entirely on Karen. “You haven’t contributed to the conversation once.”
    There was a very good reason for that; she couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “What would you like to know?” she asked carefully.
    Catherine raised her eyebrows. “You could tell me about school. I always knew you’d end up teaching. You’re so good with children.”
    Karen felt gratified by the unexpected praise.
    Victoria stared at her with more enthusiasm than necessary, obviously taking their mother’s cue. “Mom’s right,” she announced. “You’d make a wonderful teacher. You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?”
    â€œWell, enjoying isn’t exactly the word I’d use. It’s, um, a challenge.”
    â€œAll children are a challenge,” her mother said pointedly.
    â€œHow many days a week are you working?” Victoria asked.
    â€œNo more than three. Two’s better, but that’s pushing it financially. Teaching is exhausting and the little darlings couldn’t care less, especially when they’ve got a substitute.”
    â€œPersonally, I think teachers are grossly underpaid,” Victoria said.
    Her sympathy