Page 16 of The Finish Line

“What are you having?” This is the strangest conversation I’ve ever had. I have no idea who this woman is or why she’s giving me a ride, but her AC is making it hard to care.

“A girl. I was thinking of naming her Leann.”

I wrinkle my nose, and she doesn’t miss it. She lets out a light laugh.

“Don’t like that one, huh? Well, it’s my mother’s name.”

“Sorry.” I look back in the direction of the house, praying Dominic stays asleep.

“It’s fine. I don’t have my heart set on it. Maybe I’ll use it as a middle name.”

When she pulls up to the pharmacy a few minutes later, hand on the door handle, I turn to her. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Do you mind if I come with? I can help you find what you need.”

I draw my brows.

“I’m kind of in between things to do,” she says softly.

“I mean... I guess, if you want to.”

She nods and exits the car when I do, waddling through the door when I open it for her.

“Thank you,” she says absently. Her face is splotched, a lot like Delphine’s after she has one of her nightly cries. Together, we walk down through a few aisles until we find what we’re looking for. She grabs a bottle of anti-itch lotion that costs eight dollars, and it’s then I know I’m screwed.

“Thanks,” I say as she plucks a bottle of children’s Tylenol next, and I see the price on the shelf she pulled it from.

Eleven dollars.

I won’t have enough after tax.

“What else do you need?”

“Nothing.” I bite my lip, looking at the drug store brand of Tylenol, and snatch it off the shelf. “This one instead.”

Face flaming with embarrassment, she grabs another bottle of Tylenol and dumps it into the shopping cart she snatched when we came in. “Let me get this for you.”

“What?” We’re close to the same height. I might have her beat by an inch. “Why would you?”

“I would just really like to if that’s okay.”

“I mean . . . I don’t—”

“It will be our secret.” She gives me a little smile.

I nod because I really have no choice. If she hadn’t offered, I might not have enough and would have to steal it. I’ve been getting away with it a lot lately, and it never gives me a good feeling. But I only started doing it because of reasons like this, days like today when my back is against the wall. Since I have to wait until I’m sixteen to get the money from my parents’ death settlement, I’m stuck taking until I can earn it. And until that time comes, I’m going to have to figure out a way, and I have a sinking feeling the five-finger discount will be a lot of the way. But it’s a fine line. If I get caught stealing, I’ll draw attention to Delphine and Dom. I have to play everything just right, be twice as fast, twice as smart as any simple thief. My life, Dom’s life, depends on it. Familiar shame chokes me up, and I vow to make enough money someday, so I never have to feel this way again.

As if reading my mind, she speaks up. “Can you think of anything else he needs?”

“I’m just going to find him a Matchbox car and a book.”

“Oh?” She perks up. “I’ll help.”

“You really don’t have—”

“Please let me,” she says, her voice urgent and shaking again. “I’m having a b-bad day. You ever have those?”

“All the time.”

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