If It Makes You Happy(7)

She smiles. “Duh.”

I groan as she slides her headphones back over her ears. I hook a finger in the side to tug them back down.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” I ask. “Lisa is gonna kill you.”

“I finished up everything,” she responds with a shrug.

Emily’s afternoon work-study is at the post office across the square, and it’s the only reason she should be out of school. But Lisa, the elderly postmistress living on a breath and a prayer, is of the mindset that you can leave when your work is done. Normally, I’d agree, but I know my daughter. Hell, I know about being a teenager in Copper Run all too well.

“You said you saw Brittany outside the video store.” I narrow my eyes. “Why were you at the video store?”

She stiffens and shrugs. I know that gesture.

“I went to see what came out this week,” she says.

She’s a terrible liar.

“You were seeing that kid again.”

Emily’s eyes widen. “No!”

My eyebrows fall into a single line. “Really?”

She tilts her chin up. “Really.”

“So, you weren’t visiting James—”

“Josh.”

“Right. That’s what I said.”

She narrows her eyes to match my own. But I know what she’s thinking, and she knows I know.

“Fine,” she concedes. “I was hanging out with Josh.”

“Uh-huh—”

“But I was thinking … since my grades are good … I was wondering if—”

“No,” I groan, placing my thumb and forefinger over the bridge of my nose.

Emily slaps her thighs. “Oh, come on! We’ve been dating for two weeks now!”

“And that’s not enough time for him to grace my doorstep.”

“Like you’re some king—”

“You said it.”

“Dad—”

“I’ll send you to your room, Em.”

“We’re not even at home!” she says, gesturing to the sidewalk.

“I’ll launch you there.”

That makes her pause.

She bites her bottom lip to hold in a laugh. “In a cannon?”

“In a cannon,” I confirm with a grin.

She folds her arms over her chest. “You’re not the boss of me.”

Carol snorts. “That makes one of us.”

“Whatever, Carol,” Emily shoots to her.

Carol holds both hands up in surrender.

When Tracy left, Carol tried to be the supportive aunt, but at the time, she was just another female authority figure Emily didn’t want. At this point, it’s a joke Emily won’t drop.

I turn back to Emily. “I definitely am the boss of you until you’re eighteen. And last time you blew out candles, I recall you turning sixteen. And James—”

“Josh.”

“Isn’t even in school anymore. What is he, thirty?”

“He graduated in May!” Emily groans. “He’s only seventeen! If you let him come over—”

“To do what? Play Monopoly?”

“He’s probably great with money.”

“Because he’s saving for retirement, right?”

Emily’s head falls back as she lets out an over-the-top groan. “He’s not that old!”

“I’m going on another break,” Carol says, digging into her front pocket for her pack.

“Can I bum one?” Emily calls to her.

I tip my head to the side. “Did D.A.R.E. teach you nothing?”

Emily shrugs. “It made smoking sound cool actually.”

I can’t hold back my grin as I shake my head. “You’re such a little snot. And it’s not cool. How cool can it be if Carol does it?”

“I’m standing right here,” Carol says.

“Your aunt is an adult,” I continue. “She’s allowed to make terrible, life-ruining decisions.”

“When can I make terrible decisions?” Emily asks.

“When you’re fifty.”

“Oh, wow, maybe by then I’ll be old enough to date Josh too,” Emily says sarcastically.

I smirk. “He’ll be dead by then, the old geezer.”

Emily reluctantly smiles as she pulls her headphones back over her ears.

“I’m making your least favorite meal tonight,” she says. “The absolute worst one.”

“Can’t wait, kiddo.”

I hold up my hand for a high five. Emily can’t resist slapping it before pulling out her Discman from her jean jacket pocket, pressing play, and trudging down the sidewalk, away from the square and to our street.

I look at Carol as a hiss of smoke rises between her fingers.

“Her lipstick was smeared,” she says.

“It was,” Betty chimes in with a solemn nod. She’s outside her sandwich shop, pushing a dustless broom.

Nosy.

“I saw it too.” Dolly, three more doors down at the bookstore, tips her empty watering can over dry flowers.

Winston chuckles from his stool. “You’re in trouble.”

It’s impossible to have a one-on-one conversation in this town.