Page 2 of The Apple Tree

I brought the binoculars to my eyes again. One of the guys carried a box toward the front door. “I’m not sure treating me like a child is a fair punishment. I should get some leniency since I finishedso muchhomework that they gave me a diploma. Or can’t you just give me a ticket that I can pay? What about a warning? If I unbutton the top of my blouse and gasp as if I have no idea I’m breaking some law and fake a deep Southern accent with lots of ‘oh mys’ and ‘golly gee willikers,’ would you let me off with a warning?”

“Ididnot unbutton my blouse. And if your dad heard you talk to me like this, he’d tack on another week to your grounding. We’ll give you leniency when you stop acting like a child.”

I chuckled. “Drinking alcohol feels like something an adult would do. I was just doing grown-up things. You’re always telling me I should act like an adult if I expect to be treated like one.”

“I suppose we could let you sufferadultconsequences for doing illegal things like underage drinking.”

“Where’s his wife? What does this Kyle guy do?” I changed the subject. “Is he a rancher?”

“I don’t know what happened to his wife. Fred just told your dad that he’s raising the boy alone, and your dad didn’t ask any more questions. Kyle is the new high school football coach and math teacher.”

“Math? Sounds like a nerd,” I mumbled.

“If you mean someone with a college degree and a good job, then yes. He’s a nerd.” Mom shot me a smug grin when I lowered the binoculars.

“Is that another reference to my job? I bet you’re glad someone cleans your room while staying at a motel. And I don’t think teachers make that much money. That’s probably why he’s a coach too.”

“Get up. Let’s see if he needs help.” Mom jerked her chin like yanking on a fishing pole with a big bass on the end of the line.

I wasn’t a fish.

“I’m not allowed to leave my room unless it’s to work, eat, or go to the bathroom,” I said with an exaggerated shrug.

“Unless your dad or I give you permission.”

“Gabby can help. I just started a new book, and I’m in the middle of a chapter.”

“What book?” She stopped at my door and eyed me through tiny, distrustful slits.

“The Bible.”

Mom returned a raised eyebrow.

I shot her a cheesy grin while slipping the binoculars into their case.

“What book inThe Bibleare you reading?”

“Ezekiel.”

She didn’t believe me for a second. “That’s a good one.”

“It’s not,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s rather apocalyptic.”

She narrowed her eyes and twisted her lips. I was slightly offended that she seemed so surprised by my biblical knowledge. Preachers’ daughters knew more than anyone needed to know aboutThe Bible. Of course, Dad spent most of his time reciting Exodus and the Ten Commandments while I stashed alcohol by the creek and masturbated to sinful music.

“Gabby’s at Erica’s house. Your dad is at the church. It’s just us until dinner. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

After a reflexive grumble, I used the bathroom and pulled my dark hair into a ponytail before heading downstairs and shoving my feet into my red and blue KangaROOS with their useless pouch that I’d had high hopes for when I bought them.

“You don’t need to tell Kyle you’re grounded,” Mom said as I followed her outside.

I laughed. “Why? Because you know it would sound ridiculous since I’m an adult?”

“No, because telling everyone makes you sound whiny like a child instead of an adult.” The wind caught her brunette hair, which she’d recently grown out from a mullet to a layered wolf cut—very Princess Diana.

“I’m not whiny.”

She laughed. “You can’t even say that without whining.”

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