Friendship Makes the Heart Grow Fonder Read Free Page A

Marco what was bothering her. For so long she and Marco
     had been living in strained little silences. The act of keeping explosive information from him had been easier than she’d
     expected. The financial squeeze they were feeling was only the latest hit in a long string of odd distrusts and not-so-subtle
     misunderstandings. And he’d been so angry lately, for the fact that his salary had been cut to nothing, for the bills piling
     up, for the car accident. It didn’t help that she’d just found out from the dentist that Brianna was going to need braces.
     She hadn’t yet dared to mention that, if Brian was going to play hockey this season, he would need all new equipment because
     he’d grown so much. And no matter how many elaborate fantasy-castle cakes she made for friends and their referrals, she couldn’t
     bake and sell them fast enough to fill the gap between what Marco had been paid and what the mortgage demanded. It was a long
     list of worries.
    They all seemed so silly now.
    “Hey, Becky,” Judy said, peering at the calendar hanging over the desk in the corner of the kitchen. “Don’t you have a birthday
     coming up?”
    “Yeah. In April.” Becky held the pan up while water dripped into the sink. “I didn’t think you’d so quickly forget the margaritas
     at Tito’s last spring.”
    “April, September, whatever. It’s close enough for a celebration.” Judy wandered over to the table and ran her hand over the
     back of a chair. “Don’t you agree, Monique?”
    “I think I could talk Kiera into donating a little community service time toward watching your two little monsters.”
    Judy added, “I hear that new tapas place on Main Street is great.”
    Monique murmured, “A little Spanish guitar…”
    “A little Spanish wine…” Judy nodded in decision. “I think you and Marco could use a fun night out.”
    A night out. Becky shifted her gaze to the window over the sink, to the smudgy, shadowed reflection of her own face.
    Nights were the worst.
    She gave the dripping pan one last shake and then slipped it onto the drainer. At least she tried to slip it onto the drainer.
     Somehow instead, she cracked the corner of it against a glass mixing bowl so precariously piled that the force made the bowl
     tumble over the edge and knock a whisk and two wooden spoons out of the utensils bin. While the bowl clattered on the wet
     counter, one wooden spoon flipped into the air and then rattled onto the tile floor.
    In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Becky felt a hot prickle of embarrassment. Clumsy Becky, again. Always tripping
     on uneven sidewalk pavements, stumbling over garbage cans, knocking over wineglasses, and dropping whole trays of cupcakes
     off the edge of tables.
    So adorable.
    “Hey, nice flip.” Judy turned the bowl upright and pushed it deeper onto the counter. “Did you see the spin on that thing?”
    Monique retrieved the spoon and handed it to her. Becky took it and saw the flicker of a look that passed between her friends.
     It was a subtle thing, a quiet zipping of information. The kind of nonverbal communication that would, soon enough, pass right
     by her, unnoticed.
    Monique flicked a drop of water on her arm, to get her attention. “Are you going to tell us what’s wrong, girl, or do we have
     to do this kabuki dance until we tease it out of you?”
    Becky picked the other cake pan out of the water, setting the sponge upon it with new ferocity. She wished they would just
     go away. They knew her too well. Just like Becky could tell by the strain in Monique’s voice that something was bothering
     her, or by the way Judy acted crazy when she was upset, Becky knew they saw the signs in her, too. When you form an alliance
     to mutually raise a passel of curious, risk-taking, hormone-crazy teenagers, you become comrades in a very narrow foxhole.
     She, Monique, and Judy had survived raising-a-teenage-daughter boot camp. They were bonded for life.
    But Becky wasn’t