Free Looking for Cassandra Jane (The Second Chances Novels) by Melody Carlson Page A

the machine.
    ‘That’s not what we ordered!”
    I spun around in time to see Sally wink at her friends.
    “We wanted hot fudge, marshmallow, and caramel toppings,” she said with a sly smile. The other two nodded in agreement with her, now starting to giggle. “I think she really is retarded,” Sally spoke to her friends as if I wasn’t there. “But then, what can you expect when her daddy’s such a lush and all? Most likely his drinking habits messed up her genes long before she was ever born.”
    I felt just like the pressure valve on the deep-frying cooker after it had been left on High too long. I leaned across the counter and looked Sally right in the eyes. “Yeah, Sally, well, speaking of daddies, it’s too bad yours isn’t a little more discreet when he goes sleeping around. And I can’t say much for his taste in women, either.” I forced a harsh laugh, then added, “Does your mama know about this?” I paused for drama’s sake, thoroughly enjoying the shocked expression on her face. “Or maybe that’s your daddy’s whole problem in the first place—maybe your mama is a cold fish just like her little girl! Poor, poor man!”
    Sally picked up the spurned banana split and chucked it straight at me. It hit me square in the chest, then slowly slid down my uniform front in an elongated sticky streak of yellow, red, and brown. “You big, fat liar!” she yelled.
    Despite my dripping chest and the sticky mess now at my feet, I kept my calm. “No, Sally, it’s the honest truth. And if you don’t believe me, why not ask your daddy why his car’s always parked out behind Myrtle Brown’s house during weekday lunch hours and then again on certain evenings, usually around eight o’clock.” At this point, I didn’t even mind that I’d incriminated my own aunt—what had she ever done for me anyway? Besides, I figured most folks in town already knew all about this little affair by now.
    Sally’s perfect Noxzema-girl complexion flushed deep red with anger, and maybe some embarrassment, too. And her two cohorts appeared appropriately and uncomfortably speechless, with Donna Moore tugging urgently at her elbow and nodding toward the door. But to my surprise, two fat tears began to roll down Sally’s smooth cheeks. I must admit I felt a slight trace of remorse just then, at least for a few seconds, anyway. But I smothered any compassion in my renewed anger as I realized the mess I now had to clean up due to her banana split-throwing incident. Fortunately for me, Sally said nothing more as she allowed her faithful friends to guide her out to the parking lot, where I’m sure they licked her wounds and said all sorts of horrible things about me.
    I was just flipping over the Closed sign when Clint emerged from the kitchen. “What on earth’s been going on in here?” he demanded, eyeing my soiled uniform and the broken banana split dish still splattered across the floor.
    I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “These rude girls came in after closing time and ordered a banana split. And then after I gave it to them, one of the girls threw it at me and they ran off.”
    “Kids!” he muttered as he turned back to the kitchen. “Don’t know why I don’t just sell this whole blasted business and go off and live on some quiet deserted island somewhere!”
     

Seven
     
    J oey Divers was never oneto let anything go to waste, and he hadn’t wasted any time putting his experience from Grandma’s store to good use. True to his word, as soon as he’d turned fifteen, he’d gotten himself a job at Saunders Stationery, and there he’d worked full-time for the past two summers (and part-time during the school year). I often spied him through the large plate-glass window as I hurried down the street to my own job. He always looked so studious and frightfully grown-up standing behind the counter at the office supply store, diligently serving his customers.
    The Dairy Maid was just a few doors down the street, so