I stopped and turned around. “Eleanor. I’m going back in to get my computer and to get my things. Then I will leave. I will no longer be a distraction or a bother.” I looked her up and down. “And if you so much as mention any of this to my daughters, if you treat them any differently because of this, I will yank those pants all the way over your head until you suffocate.”

TWENTY EIGHT

I set the half-empty beer on the nightstand. “I’ve never been banned from anything.”

Jake sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his socks. “Didn’t you get banned from soccer?”

I frowned at him. “No, I was warned. They told me my cheering was too... enthusiastic.”

“Right.”

I’d waited for the girls in the car, the van idling in the parking lot of the high school, the heater running and smoke coming out of my ears. I was angry and embarrassed. My first inclination was to grab the girls and walk, but I didn’t think that was fair to them. I was being banned, not them. My issues with Eleanor and Madison weren’t theirs and I didn’t think they should be penalized for having a mother who failed to get along with the director and her prima donna daughter.

My second inclination was to go back in and tell Eleanor exactly what I’d found in Madison’s bag and how she’d begged me not to tell anyone. But I didn’t see what that would accomplish. Eleanor might not have believed me and even if she had, all it would do was create friction between her and her daughter. It wouldn’t do anything for me, other than give me the chance to prove I wasn’t lying to someone I didn’t really care about. And even though that was a little bit tempting, the whole clearing my name thing, I knew it wouldn’t solve anything. Because Eleanor wasn’t going to listen to anyone other than her daughter. And herself.

So, instead of doing those things, I’d waited on Grace and Sophie, put on a fake smile for them when then got in the van, then drove home and stomped around the house like a maniac, which caused the rest of the family to give me a wide berth. Emily had asked Jake for help with her ASL review instead of me, and Will had quickly disappeared into his bedroom. The beer on the nightstand was my second.

I ripped off my jeans and pulled on my pajama pants. “I mean, that kid out and out lied to her mother and I’m the one who’s losing out.”

“I don’t think being banned from rehearsals is all that much of a punishment,” Jake offered. “At least you don’t have to listen to Eleanor screaming.”

“It’s the idea,” I told him, pulling on an old T-shirt and sitting down on the bed. I propped myself up against the headboard. “The idea that I’ve done something wrong. The girls will find out. They’ll hear it from someone else. And it will embarrass them.” I looked at him. “And to be clear, she banned me not from rehearsals, but from the theater. Which I assume means I can’t go to the performances.”

He snorted. “Yeah, well, we’ll see about that. And you know what? Just tell the girls that you and Eleanor aren’t getting along and that you’ve decided to stay away during rehearsal time. If people say anything else to them, you can just tell them it’s gossip.”

“I’m not going to lie to them,” I said, shaking my head. “If they ask, I’m going to tell them: your psycho director has ordered me off the premises because her spoiled brat of a kid lied about me.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah. That should clear things right up for them.”

I reached for the beer. “And I’m not finishing that stupid program. I’m calling Joanne tomorrow and telling her she’s on her own.”

“Alright.”

“I mean, if I’m banned from the theater, then I should be banned from theater projects, too,” I said, taking a sip from the bottle. “They can get someone else to finish it.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Jake said, reaching for the beer. “But you won’t do it.”

I handed him the bottle. “What?”

“You won’t do it,” he repeated, then pointed the top of the bottle at me. “You won’t bail on it.”

“Oh, I will, too.”

He took a long drink and handed the beer back to me. “If you do, it will be the first time in the history of Daisy that it’s ever happened.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, clutching the bottle. “She banned me! Why would I do anything for her?”

“Because you’re going to sleep on it,” he said. “And in the morning, you’re going to have convinced yourself that not doing the program would harm the kids in the play – who have nothing to do with any of this. Just like you convinced yourself not to storm back in there and grab Sophie and Grace and leave in a huff.” He smiled. “You’ll take one for the team because you always do, Daisy.”

I drank from the beer and looked at the owl print on my pajama pants and didn’t say anything.

“And I’m not saying that’s the wrong decision at all,” he said. “Sometimes, we have to be the bigger person when it comes to idiots. If it’s better for the kids. And I think the guilt of just abandoning the program would drive you nuts, especially if we get to performance night and the program looks like some fourth grader put it together. I don’t think you would feel very good about that at all.”

I grunted. “Maybe. But I would not feel bad about sticking it to Eleanor.”

“Nope, you wouldn’t. But you also don’t live with \Eleanor.”

I finished the beer and set the empty bottle on the nightstand. I knew he was right, but I was still too mad to admit it. I knew I’d feel different in the morning and that I would begrudgingly finish the work on the play program. But right then, I was still so mad I would’ve liked to shove the beer bottle right up Eleanor’s pointy nose.

I leaned back against the headboard. “It just stinks.”

Jake nodded sympathetically. He slipped under the covers and reached for my hand. “Yep, it does. I’m sorry. And if you do want to pull the girls out and jettison the program and slander Eleanor all over town, I am totally with you. I’ll help, even. Bet I’d be good at slander.”

I squeezed his hand. “Thank you. But I don’t want to do that, either.” I sighed. “I’m just frustrated. I thought I was helping Madison out by keeping her secret. And all I got for being a nice person was banishment. By Eleanor Oompa Loompa Bandersand.”

He bit back a smile. “No good deed goes unpunished. Just remember that,” he said. “That is the right saying for this, right? It works?”

“Sure,” I told him. “What I don’t get is why she’d lie to her mother about it? Madison created this – she had to go to her mother and tell her I found the bag and then turn it into something it wasn’t. She had to make the effort to do that. Because otherwise Eleanor wouldn’t have known.”

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t think you’d keep the secret. Maybe she thought you’d rat her out. So maybe she lied to her mother as a preemptive strike.”

“Maybe,” I said. I could absolutely see Madison doing something like that. “But I also wonder if they just didn’t like me asking about Amanda so much.”

“What do you mean?”

I fell back onto the pillow. It was a dramatic move but I didn’t care – I was channeling Madison and Eleanor and the entire theater at that moment.  “I mean that I think I’ve asked everyone I know of about Amanda. And when I brought it up to Eleanor, she pretty much cut me off.”

“Is this your imagination running wild?” he asked. “Are you positing that they didn’t like you asking because you had something to hide?”

“Positing?” I wrinkled my nose. “Why are you using such big words?”

“It’s not a big word. You’ve just had too many beers and aren’t thinking straight.” He glanced at me, his expression amused. “Positing means hypothesizing. Proposing.”

“Proposing? I’m already married. To you.” He opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off.  Sort of,” I said, continuing my previous train of thought. “But maybe they just got tired of me asking about a girl who wasn’t there.” I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m tired. And a little buzzed,” I admitted. “And a lot tired.”