Free The Secrets of Tree Taylor by Dandi Daley Mackall

were talking about the upcoming Steam and Gas Engine Show, and the other half were speculating on the fate of Mr. Kinney.
    I tried getting back to my journal, but I couldn’t seem to produce anything except a chewed pen. Then I heard Mom and Eileen laughing hard. Their voices floated in from the family room as if traveling from another planet far, far away from mine.
    I sneaked through the kitchen to eavesdrop.
    “Try it over here,” Eileen said.
    They grunted like they were trying to lift the house. Then I heard a chair or a couch scoot across the tiled floor. Staying out of sight, I peeked around the corner and watched as they finished shoving the recliner next to the biggest window.
    I liked the recliner in its old spot.
    “Perfect!” Mom exclaimed. “You’ve got a great eye for this.”
    “Maybe I should be an interior decorator instead of a nurse,” Eileen said.
    “You can be anything you want,” Mom assured her. “And that includes nursing.”
    Mom got that right. Eileen was so smart, she really could become anything she wanted to. Unless Einstein moved to town, Eileen would be valedictorian next year.
    But my sister had chosen nursing. When we were little, Eileen dressed up as a nurse every single Halloween. Before settling on what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d changed my mind dozens of times. Not Eileen. Changing her mind would have been like giving up.
    I probably shouldn’t have spied on my mother and sister, but I couldn’t help myself. Maybe I wanted to find out what they did that made them so close. You only had to see them for two seconds to know they loved spending time together. When they walked down the street, people stared, people smiled. In her own way, Eileen was as beautiful as our mother.
    I stepped back so they wouldn’t see me, but I could still hear them.
    “You wouldn’t believe what Elizabeth wore to Curt’s Café yesterday,” Eileen said, after more scooting and grunting.
    “What?” Mom sounded truly interested.
    “I liked her silky blouse. Pastel blue with a tie-neck. But her skirt? It had to be two, maybe three, inches above her knee.”
    There was a
thud
, like something heavy dropping. “You’re kidding!” Mom exclaimed.
    “I kid you not. It may not have been as short as that red suede skirt we saw, but—”
    “The skirt in
Bazaar
? Now, that was short.” Mom’s voice changed. “This way a bit. Hmm … no, let’s try the table on the other side.”
    “Good idea,” Eileen agreed.
    No surprise there. My mom and my sister agreed on everything.
    “You know who would look great in a short skirt like that?” said Eileen.
    “Nobody,” Mom said.
    “Tree. I wish I had her knees.”
    I couldn’t believe she’d said that. I stared down at my legs, pushing up my cutoffs for a better view of my skinned-up knees.
    “Both of my girls have great knees.” Something slammed against the wall. “And neither of my girls will be displaying them under short skirts.”
    “I know. But Tree could carry it off,” Eileen insisted. “You know what else Tree would look great in? A red sweater dress with a wide belt. And kitten heels.”
    “Tree wouldn’t wear kitten heels if you got her a litter of them.”
    “I know. And the only thing she’ll wear to school are shifts and sack dresses,” Eileen said.
    “Because they’re comfortable,” Mom explained.
    “She’d wear jeans to high school if they’d let her,” Eileencomplained. “You should get her an A-line skirt. Ooh—I know! Remember those kick-pleat skirts we saw at the Jones Store in Kansas City? They look like straight skirts, but the pleat in front and back makes them comfortable. Remember? The woman said you could do the twist in that skirt.”
    Mom laughed. “I remember! I thought about Tree when she said that. Do you think she’d wear one if we brought it home?”
    I backed out of the kitchen. I wasn’t sure how I felt about what I’d heard. It always made me feel kind of lonely inside when I