Page 78 of Return of the Bad Girl (Rock Canyon, Idaho 4)

“Well, I’m going on break,” the clerk said, flipping off her light.

“Becky, turn that light back on and check out Ms. Willis,” Mr. Hall said from behind them.

Becky . . . Becky . . .

Images of a punk-rock girl screaming at her in high school flashed through Caroline’s brain. She couldn’t remember what she’d done to piss off Becky, but obviously, it had been worth holding a grudge.

Mrs. Andrews walked behind the checkout stand and addressed the blonde bag girl. “Jenny, don’t forget to bring home milk.”

“Sure, Mom.”

Mrs. Andrews lowered her voice but not before Caroline heard, “And do not talk to them.”

Becky snickered, and Caroline looked right at her. “Do I know you or something?”

Becky’s mouth dropped open, as if shocked. “You don’t remember me?” she cried.

“Should I?”

“You hooked up with my boyfriend, Charlie!”

Caroline turned to Gabe and said, “I don’t remember a Charlie.”

“That’s too bad,” Gabe said. “Charlie sounds like a swell guy.”

Caroline smothered a laugh as she dug for her wallet. She found a couple of twenties and handed them to Becky, who counted her change in short, jerky motions. When she slammed the drawer shut and slapped the change down on the counter, Caroline shook her head.

“I don’t remember hooking up with your boyfriend, but if I did, I’m sorry. I was kind of a mess.”

Becky’s lip quivered like she was going to cry, the only sign that she’d heard Caroline.

“You’re Valerie’s sister, right? Caroline?” the blonde bag girl asked as Caroline and Gabe picked up their groceries.

“You couldn’t tell by the villagers with the pitchforks?” Caroline asked.

Jenny laughed, and held out her hand. “I’m Jenny Andrews. Val used to be friends with my older sister.”

Caroline remembered her older sister, but their mother was even harder to forget. It was tough to find a more judgmental, self-righteous bitch than Mrs. Marci Andrews.

“Oh, yeah, I remember,” Caroline said.

“Is it true you’ve been all over the world?”

“Well, I’ve lived lots of places, but I’ve never been anywhere overseas except London,” Caroline said, giving Gabe a one-minute sign with her finger before he continued toward the door.

“Oh, wow, what was it like?” Jenny asked, taking their empty cart back toward the front.

“Why don’t I give you my number, and you can call me about it sometime?” Caroline said, searching her purse for a pen. “I normally wouldn’t mind hanging out, but it’s Val’s birthday, and I have to bake a cake.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. My mom always says I talk too much and that ladies should be of few words.”

“Do not listen to your mother,” Caroline said firmly. “You are unique and fun. Don’t change for anyone. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, adults don’t know everything.”

Jenny giggled. “No, they sure don’t.”

Chapter Twenty-One

“A man who can cook is worth his weight in gold. Or at least in chocolate.”

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