Free Bittersweet Summer by Anne Warren Smith Page A

didn’t.” She stopped then. “Well, it changed the timing. But it worked out fine. Right?”
    There was silence before Dad nodded.
    “Right,” he said.
    Mom sat down at a little table that had couches around it. “Pizza is coming.” She patted the couch and smiled as we crowded in. “So tell me,” she said, “what did you really think of the show?”
    “Your voice is better than ever,” Dad said. “You look great, Roxie.”
    She smoothed her hair. “I don’t look too tired? This extra show has been a big problem. We have to be in Spokane tomorrow night. What is that, a six-hour drive?”
    I studied Mom’s face. She didn’t look tired at all. She looked excited.
    She turned to me. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”
    “It’s summer vacation,” I said, surprised that she didn’t know. “No school.”
    “We’ll sleep in,” Dad said.
    Tyler wiggled on the couch and leaned against Mom. “Not me,” he said.
    “Oh, that’s right.” Dad sighed. “The early riser.”
    Mom made a face. “After a concert, I sleep till noon.” She got up and opened the refrigerator. “Want something to drink?” She set bottled water on the table, along with a couple of Cokes.
    “Uh,” Dad said, “no caffeine for the kids, Roxie.”
    “Right,” she said. “I forgot.” She put the Cokes back and got out some juice.
    Just then, someone knocked on the door. “Oh dear,” Mom said. “The pizza. I can’t answer looking like this.” She backed away from the door, down the hall, out of sight.
    “I’ll get it,” Dad said. He opened the door to the smell of pizza.
    “He’s going to need money,” Mom called from the hallway.
    Dad reached for his wallet. “I’ll treat.” He gave the pizza man some bills and closed the door.
    “Oh, Bill,” Mom said, coming back to the table. “You didn’t have to treat. But thank you.” She opened the lid of the box and peeked inside. “Yummy!”
    I looked inside the box, too.
    Mom had forgotten! I hate mushrooms!

Chapter 24
Good-bye Again
    H ORRIBLE MUSHROOMS COVERED EVERY bit of the pizza. “Mom!” I said as tears rushed into my eyes.
    Dad shook his head at me and reached for a piece. I pressed my lips together and watched him pick off mushrooms. He slid my piece over to me.
    “Oh, Katie,” Mom said. “Guess I forgot.”
    “It’s okay.” I blinked the tears away and tried to smile.
    “You’ve grown since Christmas, Katie,” she said, pulling me closer to her.
    I rubbed my cheek against her soft robe, trying to forget about the mushrooms. “This bus is cute,” I said. “I like these little cabinets and shelves.”
    “Look up there.” She pointed behind me, and I twisted around to look.
    “Our pictures!”
    “I keep the Scotch tape handy. Everything you send me goes up on the wall.” Mom nodded at me. “Makes this rig feel like a home.”
    “We’ll send more,” I said. “I do birds now.” I looked down at my pizza. Dad had missed a lot of mushrooms. They were still everywhere.
    Mom got up for another bottle of water. “It’s summer vacation, huh? What have you been doing?”
    “We’ve hardly had a chance to play,” I told her. “Dad’s been making us sort stuff.”
    “We’re giving away extra things,” Dad said, “in case I take a job in Portland.”
    “You would love it here in Portland,” Mom said. “There’s so much going on.” Outside the rig, a siren whistled, coming closer and then finally turning away from us.
    I started to say, no, we wouldn’t, but Tyler interrupted.
    “We went on a picnic,” he said, sitting up and opening his eyes. “With the Plummers and Ms. Morgan.”
    “Silver Creek Falls,” Dad said. He wiped tomato sauce off Tyler’s mouth.
    “We went there,” Mom said. “Oh my gosh. Was Tyler even born yet?”
    “Katie was a baby.” He pulled the envelope from his pocket. “Want to see some photos?”
    Mom wiped pizza off her fingers and took the first