Free Bullet in the Night by Judith Rolfs Page B

okay with you that Lenora changed from being the strong-minded atheist feminist you first knew to a strong pro-life Catholic convert?”
    He shrugged. “People change. I make jokes about her ‘do-goodism,’ but she knows I’m proud of her generosity to anybody in need. I’ll admit though, she’s more trusting than I am.”
    No surprise there. Lenora deeply loved God’s people. “So you didn’t share her enthusiasm for her foundation?” I could see into the open kitchen from our table. My eyes fixated on the one-handed egg crack of the counter chef adroitly preparing scrambled eggs.
    “I approach life on the practical level. Change, like what Lenora believed happened to Kirk, well, I’m skeptical. And now with good reason.”
    Out of nowhere came a niggling wish. I longed to have Lenora’s personal assurance that things were okay in her marriage, but that wasn’t possible.
    I checked the rooster clock on the wall. “I’ve got to run. Thanks for the info about Hartford. I’ll let you know what I find out.” I rose. “One more thing. Can I get a list of all the convicts Lenora has worked with this past year plus any who requested help that she had to turn down?”
    “You’re wasting your time, but I’ll get the names. I’ll double-check the list, based on my recall, to be sure it’s accurate.”
    My head jerked up surprised. How would he know and why wouldn’t it be correct?
    “I don’t want to email or fax such sensitive data. Stop by later.”

 
    CHAPTER TWELVE
    I whipped together a spaghetti dinner for my family of five with the help of my personal chef, Ragu. Afterwards, with the children absorbed in homework, I tracked down Nick in front of the TV. “I need to run over to Tucker’s place.”
    “What for?”
    “To pick up Lenora’s counseling notes on the gals I’ll be seeing now that I have their permission.”
    “You want me to go with you again?”
    “Thanks. I’ll be okay.”
    Tara pranced into the family room exuding teenage oblivion to anyone but herself. Her sun-streaked brown hair held enough mousse to stick straight out an inch from her scalp.
    Without pausing to check if we were in the midst of a conversation, she announced, “I need a ride to Ellie’s. We’re working on school stuff. Her mom will drive me home if one of you takes me over.”
    Nick pointed at me.
    Tara shifted full focus in my direction. “Please, Mom.”
    Our girl could be sweet as honey when she wanted something. I doubted the schoolwork needed immediate attention, but Tara liked flitting about. I’d get an onslaught of reasons to oblige her in Nick’s inherited persuasive style if I said no.
    “No problem, I have an errand too, but don’t make a habit of working at friends’ houses on week nights. Can you be ready to leave soon?”
    “Like now.” Tara grabbed her books while I collected a sweater and my purse. She followed me into the garage. The large steel door lifted with my finger push on the button.
    The second I put the car in reverse, Tara reached for the radio.
    I put my hand over hers before backing out. “Whoa. Let’s talk for a few minutes instead, sweetie. How was school today?” I tapped the remote on the visor, and the garage door groaned down.
    “Fine.”
    Jennifer, what were you thinking? You teach parents not to ask questions with one-word answers? 
    “What’s your homework tonight?”
    “Studying for a test. I hate the subject. It makes me feel dumb. I’m no good at numbers or shapes, but I want to ace this test.”
    My competitive tiger. School studies seemed irrelevant to my crisis-filled counseling life, but I struggled to relate. “Go for it. Just remember A’s are not absolutely necessary.” I strategized with her while encouraging her. “You’re wonderful in our eyes whatever your grades as long as you try your best in every subject.”
    Tara grinned. Her wobbly self-image sopped up my comment. Lord, help me remember my children’s emotional needs. If only