Free A Job to Kill For by Janice Kaplan Page A

lied,” I said softly to Ashley. “And you got me to lie for you. That’s wrong.”
    “Oh, Mom, lighten up,” she said. “You defended Daddy on a murder charge, and now Aunt Molly. You had to support me.”
    “But Daddy and Aunt Molly weren’t guilty,” I said.
    “How do you know?” Ashley asked, her voice rising.
    “I know. In fact, I’m sure ,” I said firmly.
    “And I’m sure the earrings fell into my backpack,” Ashley said, mimicking me. She laughed rudely. “Come on, Mom, it’s pretty easy, right? Go for what you want and screw the truth.”

Chapter Six
     
    I tossed and turned so much that night I could have starred in a Lunesta ad. By the time Dan got home from the hospital, I’d kicked off the comforter and gotten totally tangled in the pale beige one-thousand-thread-count sheet that I’d had hand-embroidered by a Swiss seamstress. For all the comfort I felt tonight, I could be sleeping on burlap.
    “Everything good with you?” Dan asked, falling into bed next to me. His voice sounded weary from a long day in the operating room.
    “Not all good,” I admitted. “But we can talk in the morning.”
    “I have another surgery at six a.m.,” Dan said. “Better tell me now.”
    I put my head on his shoulder, then decided to give him the bad news quickly.
    “Ashley shoplifted a pair of earrings, and I got her off, which I shouldn’t have, but I did because she cried and convinced me she hadn’t done it,” I said in a rush. Then, picking up the pace even more, I continued, “If she’s such a good actress, maybe she should try out for the school play. It’s South Pacific this year, and always liked Nellie, the cockeyed optimist. Anyway, her friend Tara stole a T-shirt and wore it right out of the store. I called Tara’s mom, even though Ashley threw a fit and said that would ruin her life, but the mom was in the middle of a manicure and she couldn’t have cared less. So I hung up and talked to Ashley about peer pressure and having an internal moral compass and knowing wrong is wrong.”
    I finally stopped and took a deep breath.
    Dan lifted his head from the double down pillows. “Good lung capacity,” he said. “But I’m not sure I completely followed.”
    “Where’d I lose you?”
    “Somewhere around the cockeyed optimist.”
    I sighed. “Ashley’s complicated. Sometimes I think she doesn’t know whether to be bad or good.”
    “So tell her to be good for goodness’ sake,” said Dan.
    “If she still believed in Santa Claus, maybe that would work.”
    Dan put his arms around me. “Thank you for dealing with all this, Lacy. I don’t say it enough, but I appreciate you. I really do. I’m sorry about how busy I’ve been.”
    I hugged him tightly. Dan spent more hours than I liked at the hospital, but I’d never be able to change that. I’d fallen in love with a man who happened to be good and kind and generous. He got his sense of self from taking care of his patients and staying busy. Like every man, Dan needed action, not analysis.
    “Can I share two more family headlines before you fall asleep?” I whispered.
    “Go for it.”
    “Grant’s taking a college physics class after school. Our very own Presley Prep didn’t have any science classes left to challenge him, so the headmaster made all the arrangements at UCLA.”
    “When did that start?”
    “The morning after Cassie died. Molly had been questioned by the cops all night and she popped over for breakfast. I was so distracted I didn’t even notice that Grant had spiffed up in nice jeans. Anyway, we talked that night. I apologized.”
    “I’m glad,” said Dan. “Men like their mothers to notice their nice jeans.”
    “You’re teasing me,” I said, rolling over.
    “Teasing you but loving you,” Dan said, spooning behind me. He pressed his strong chest against my back. “By the way, you look way too young to have a son in college.”
    “Flattery will get you everywhere,” I said, as he cupped his