The Living Room Read Free Page B

stretched down her back.
    “Tell me about dance class,” Amy said to her. “How is Ms. Carlton’s ankle?”
    “Okay.”
    Jeff handed Amy an envelope. “Ms. Carlton gave this to me while Megan was changing out of her leotards. There’s going to be a big price increase at the studio beginning in January.”
    Megan had been taking dance lessons for five years. The cost of the classes was manageable when Amy worked as a secretary for a local law firm. Now, with her annual income cut by half, whether to continue the classes was a bimonthly discussion.
    “Don’t talk about money in front of me,” Megan said, still peering into the open refrigerator. “We’re out of cranberry juice. When are you going to the grocery store?”
    “Tomorrow.” Amy worked to keep her voice calm. She was determined not to let Megan bait her into an argument. “Put anything you need on the grocery list by the toaster.”
    Megan let the refrigerator door close on its own and left the room without adding anything to the list. Amy opened the notice from the dance studio and inhaled sharply.
    “That’s a twenty-five percent increase. Does Megan know?”
    “Yes”—Jeff shrugged—“which was a mistake. She told me that dance is her life, and she’s not going to give it up.”
    “Did you tell her she might have to stop?”
    “No.”
    Amy ran her fingers through her hair. “But she assumed the worst and blames me because quitting my job has put us in a worse financial bind.”
    “That didn’t come up. She said the studio is the only place where she feels good about herself. Then she clammed up.”
    Amy tensed. “That makes me wonder what’s going on at school. If the kids were still at Broad Street Christian—”
    “We’d be stuck in a duplex on the south side of town flushing rent money down the drain every month.”
    Jeff was right. It had taken three years to scrape together a down payment large enough to get them into the house. And that had been with Amy working full-time for the law firm. Private school tuition simply wasn’t possible.
    “Bernie is going to pressure the publisher to be more aggressive in marketing my books,” Amy said hopefully. “He says my popularity should increase with the release of The Everlasting Arms .”
    “I hope he’s right. We blew through the money you got when you signed the contract because we thought you were going to be the next Karen what’s her name.”
    “Kingsbury. And that’s not true. She’s in a different publishing universe than I am.”
    “Whatever. This time I’m going to include every penny of the book money in our budget.”
    Financial discussions upset Amy, but unlike Megan, she couldn’t brush Jeff off. He worked hard at his hourly job, and to earn extra money bid on home remodeling jobs he performed on the weekends with a friend who was a contractor. She wanted him to know she was standing with him.
    “How much was the royalty check?” he asked. “You may as well tell me.”
    “Over seven hundred dollars,” Amy replied, trying to make the news sound positive.
    “For three months?” Jeff opened his eyes wider. “Bernie said it would be several times that much.”
    “I know. That’s probably one reason he called. He wanted to soften the blow.”
    Jeff dropped his head as if he’d been punched.
    “I know I haven’t had a lot of financial success yet,” Amy said, determined to stay strong. “But I believe the most important thing is that people’s lives are being changed. I got two e-mails today from women who were blessed and encouraged by A Great and Precious Promise .”
    “Yeah, but it would be nice if you could be blessed in the here and now, not just later when you get to heaven.” Jeff glanced through the opening between the kitchen and the family room. “But I have much worse news than an increase in the cost of dance lessons.”
    “You didn’t lose your job, did you?” Amy’s face turned pale.
    “No, no, but Mr. Crouch had a meeting