“Heather!” A woman rushed from the sidewalk. Heather dropped the bag and Keith caught it.
“Sorry, Whisper,” Heather replied. “I thought you’d be napping. I’m sorry.”
“Where were you?”
“I…went out. And I—”
“Go inside. Immediately!”
Heather started backing away after taking the bag from him. “Thanks. You’ll be paid, I promise. I’m sorry for any trouble.”
When he closed the back hatch on the SUV, he waited until Heather stepped inside before turning to regard her sister. Heather’s quick retreat made a really foul mood descend. Tired and feeling a little protective of the kid, he remembered he hadn’t gotten his damn beer.
“Look,” he said, “nothing happened to her, she’s home and safe. It’s late and she’s worn out. Let her explain and take it easy on her.”
“Anything else?” The woman’s voice didn’t carry far, but the menace came through loud and clear.
“Sure. Take better care of your sister.” He instantly regretted the words. It wasn’t his business.
“Who are you? Why was she with you?”
He sighed. “She got in some trouble and I walked into it. She told me you were having a hard time and we went to the grocery store. It’s no big deal, so don’t turn it into one.”
“What do you want?” She spat enough accusation in her question to make the Pope re-think recent actions.
His mood wouldn’t tolerate her tone of voice. He took a step toward her and she backed away. He’d only wanted to get close so their voices wouldn’t carry. Heather stood in the doorway and she’d already been through enough for one night. “Listen carefully. Take better care of your sister,” he said.
© Kathleen Lash
Author: Kathleen Lash
Publisher: Wild Rose Press