Free Three Black Swans by Caroline B. Cooney Page B

during her junior year, it exhausted her to make arrangements; to beg, to impose, tofeel babyish because she wanted company and ashamed when friends exclaimed, “Your parents are gone
again?”
    If Genevieve implied that her parents didn’t pay enough attention to her, Ned and Allegra would snap back. Other parents might coddle, smother and spoil their children, who would grow up to be failures as adults, pathetic specimens at work and play. But Ned and Allegra were giving their daughter wings to fly.
    Genevieve felt she had been flying since she was six weeks old, when they had turned her over to the nanny. A little time in the nest with Mommy and Daddy would be nice.
    At least she still had time with GeeGee.
    Even at ninety-three, the older Genevieve Candler had the most beautiful smile in the world. When her great-granddaughter walked into the nursing home, GeeGee would cry, “Hello, sunshine!” “Hello, sweetness and light!” or “Hello, pride and joy!” Then she would have a hundred questions. “Tell me everything, Vivi. How is your crush on William coming? Is Meghan speaking to you again? Did Tess stay captain of the softball team in spite of her grades? What did the history teacher think of your essay? How did you do on the chemistry questions for High School Bowl?”
    Genevieve was her great-grandmother’s only frequent visitor. GeeGee’s three grandchildren—Ned, Alan and Dorothy—used their grandmother as a bank. Aunt Dorothy was always in the middle of a divorce and Uncle Alan was always in the middle of a career collapse. They showed up routinely to mooch off their grandmother for a month or a year. Like Genevieve’sfather, Alan and Dorothy needed help with vacations and cruises, new cars and boats, mortgages and down payments. The day came when GeeGee said to her middle-aged grandchildren, “There’s no more money. I’ve outlived it. You’ll have to pay my bills instead of me paying yours.”
    Uncle Alan and Aunt Dorothy no longer wasted time visiting, while Genevieve’s father became too busy, and Genevieve’s mother said nursing homes gave her the willies. They hardly ever asked Genevieve about her visits and did not know that when the water aerobics instructor quit, and nobody else had the interest or qualifications to teach a class, Genevieve took over because GeeGee loved the water. Three afternoons a week, Genevieve coaxed ancient bodies into the pool.
    After half an hour in the pool, and maybe a lesson in card games—because GeeGee felt that bridge, canasta and rummy were crucial to the well-balanced life—Genevieve would jog the half mile home.
    Last night at dinner, her father had passed the plastic container of grilled salmon pasta salad. He did not ask about Genevieve’s day. She thought of mentioning High School Bowl practice. She knew better than to extend an invitation to the next meet. “I’m in the city at that hour,” her mother would say. “Vivi, I’m really stretched for time,” her father would add.
    There was one thing Genevieve did need to bring up. “I was visiting GeeGee the other day. She thinks it’s time we scheduled college visits.” Actually, GeeGee felt it was long overdue for Ned and Allegra to do hundreds of things.
    Her father shook his head. “You’re only a junior.”
    “I know, Dad, but everybody begins planning now. During vacations, we should visit colleges.”
    Her mother got up from the table and made a big deal of refrigerating the leftovers. If you could call untouched dishes leftovers.
    The conversation did not continue. Ned and Allegra Candler gave each other what Genevieve had come to call their Dark Look: a half-hidden exchange of annoyance. Usually she had no idea what triggered the Dark Look, but this time it was probably money. Her parents worked hard (assuming you could call Dad’s job work, which most people didn’t), but they spent all their income and more. They were the classic overextended couple. They had probably assumed