Free Juno's Daughters by Lise Saffran Page A

called. “The bus is going to be here any minute.”
    Frankie emerged from the bathroom with a spot of toothpaste on her chin. “Or me’n Phoenix could play the same part.” Her eyes were bright with the genius of it. “Like with an understudy. Or twins, you know, on TV shows. Like the Olsen twins.”
    â€œI remember the Olsens.” Frankie’s room had once been plastered with pictures of them. She motioned for her to wipe her face and Frankie did so with her hoodie, before putting it on.
    â€œDepending upon the costume, we might look exactly alike. We’re almost the same size, except for she’s about three pounds heavier than me.” Frankie giggled. “And that’s all up here,” she said, cupping her hands under imaginary breasts.
    Jenny stood and stretched her hands toward the ceiling. She had been out of school for more years than she could count, but even she had that summer vacation feeling. She hoped the play might turn out to be one of her better decisions. It was, after all, Shakespeare, and an enriching activity for her and her girls to do together. Perhaps, in spite of all her mistakes and misjudgments, it suggested that she hadn’t been such a bad mother after all.
    She kissed Frankie on the cheek and pushed her toward the door. “Do you know what you and Phoenix are going to do when school gets out?” The last day was always a half day.
    â€œWe’re going to the art store. Phoenix wants some new colored pencils.” Frankie grabbed the charms that she’d attached to the end of her zipper and pulled her hoodie closed up to her little pointy chin. “I can’t wait till she meets the cast,” she said, backing through the door as her mother flapped her hands in a brushing sign, sending her out. “She’s going to love Ariel.”
    â€œCall if you need a ride home.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Jenny pulled the door shut and Frankie, standing on her tiptoes, made a kissy face against the glass. Jenny tapped at the glass with the tip of her finger and Frankie disappeared.
    Five minutes later a truck bumped over the ruts toward the house and stepping back to the window, Jenny could see Elliot sitting in the front seat. This early in the summer his neck was as pink as a newborn mouse. He honked twice, loudly. She waved. He sat up straight and waved back.
    Lilly emerged from her room tying her dreads back with a bandanna. She had slipped a pair of army shorts over long johns.
    â€œI might be just a hair late to the meeting tonight. Would you let Dale know?”
    â€œWhy?” Immediately, Jenny realized the futility of that question: Whatever answer she would get was likely to be tempered with varying shades of the truth. She followed her daughter to the pantry. “No. Lilly. I will not. We’re going do a read through of the entire play, and that’s going to take a little while. Dale said you had to be present at this meeting if you wanted to be in the company.”
    â€œI didn’t say I wouldn’t be present .” Lilly’s exasperation was hard on the banana and granola bars she was tossing in her bag for lunch. “Just late.” She slung her lumpy woven bag over her shoulder and gave her mother one last look of persecuted innocence. “Okay?”
    â€œIt’s not my permission that you need Lilly. It’s Dale and Peg’s. Call them yourself.”
    Lilly scowled. Her bag buzzed and she flipped open her cell phone, no doubt receiving and then replying to a text from Elliot, who sat within shouting distance in the yard. She flipped the phone shut again and pirouetted toward the door with her back to Jenny. On the way out she called casually over her shoulder, “Oh, and I forgot to tell you. Auntie Sue phoned the other day and she invited me to come down.”
    â€œJust by yourself? To visit?” Jenny followed Lilly through the door out onto the concrete step in front