“Well, what if the other kids have their phones out?”

“I’ll talk to Brenda,” I said. “Pretty sure she’ll be happy to thrown down a no-phone moratorium for the evening.”

Will frowned, then glanced at Emily. “Okay, fine, but if she pulls her phone out, I’m calling you because as far as I’m concerned, that’s an emergency.”

“That’s fair,” I said. “You hear that, Em?”

“Huh?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Sure?”

“Emily?”

She looked up from her phone, annoyed. “What?”

I sighed, wondering what the punishment was for tossing a teenager out of a moving car. I took a deep breath. “No phones after we leave.”

“But—”

“And if you take it out, Will has permission to call us,” I said, cutting her off. “End of story.”

She looked like I’d just shot her puppy.

“Andy will still be there in the morning,” I said, smiling at her in the mirror.

Her face flushed red and the rest of the kids howled.

Which actually felt better than tossing her out of the car.

SEVEN

“We should do that sometime,” Jake said, pointing out the window. “The corn maze thing.”

Johnny Witt stiffened in the passenger seat next to him. “That’s not funny, man.”

We’d dropped the kids at Johnny and Brenda’s, negotiated the cease-phone rule amongst all of the kids, and were headed to a nearby Mexican restaurant. We were just about to exit the highway when we passed the corn maze next to the giant outdoor market. I’d been there several times with the kids. It was a fairly elaborate maze, with the corn stalks tall enough so that it wasn’t terribly easy to get out. You had to pay attention and you had to be patient. It was a fun thing to do once a year. Jake, however, had never been because I refused to go on the weekends because it was too crowded. We had definitely been spoiled by being able to go during the week when most kids were in school.

Jake looked at him. “What?”

Johnny adjusted his glasses. “Did Brenda put you up to that?”

Jake hit his signal and moved into the exit lane. “Uh, no.”

“I didn’t,” Brenda said, next to me in the back of the van. “I promise.”

“Those things are no joke, alright?” he said, jabbing his finger at the window. “I got stuck in there once. I’m never going back. Never.”

“You got stuck?” Jake asked, trying not to laugh.

“His phone died,” Brenda said. She glanced at me, her lips pressed together to keep a smile from blossoming. “And it was getting dark. Johnny...had a bit of a moment.”

“I didn’t have a moment,” Johnny said, with absolutely no amusement in his voice. “I could’ve died out there, alright? Those things should be illegal.”

“Did you not have a map?” I asked. The corn maze always handed out maps… and white flags to wave in surrender if the challenge proved to be too great. I’d never had to use mine.

“I did, I did,” he said. “But it wasn’t right. I followed it and it just took me deeper inside that labyrinth of danger.” He shook his head and shivered. “Never again, man. Never again.”

“It’s a thing for him,” Brenda whispered to me as we turned into the parking lot of Tres Amigos.

I raised my eyebrow at her and she stifled a laugh.

Jake parked the van and he and Johnny were already on to talking about football or basketball or something sports-related as we headed into the restaurant. The wind whipped through the parking lot as we hurried toward the door. Fall was a hit or miss season in Minnesota: sometimes, it lasted for a month, sometimes it seemed to last a week before the snow began to fly.

We waited at the hostess stand for a table and Brenda started telling me about the new instructor at the ballet school her girls attended. For the hundredth time, I reminded myself how grateful I was to have them as friends. As established as I was in Moose River, Jake and I had had a hard time connecting with people we felt like we could hang out with. There was a lot about us that made us different – we were on our second marriage and we had a blended family; we didn’t attend church; and we homeschooled are kids. Not a ton to work with in the “let’s focus on what we have in common” method of finding friends. Most folks were friendly enough and polite enough, but that was far different than finding people to go out to dinner with. I’d said it to Jake more than once and he didn’t disagree: if we hadn’t found Johnny and Brenda and their family, we might not have stuck around in Moose River.

We ordered drinks and appetizers and then our food as we all chatted about kids and jobs. Mary was cutting more teeth and Derek had decided to use a potted palm for potty training; I told them about Will hacking into Emily’s account and Johnny the computer genius was reluctantly impressed.

“He won’t have any trouble finding a job,” he remarked.

“Not if his sister doesn’t kill him first,” Jake said, dipping a chip into a terracotta bowl brimming with white queso.

We finished eating our dinner and the guys got up and headed for the pool tables in the bar. We’d been going to Tres Amigos for awhile now and as much I looked forward to the food, I was pretty sure Jake got more excited about the pool tables and the million flat screens showing sports in the bar. I never minded as it gave Brenda and me time to catch up.

“I might need your help next week,” Brenda said, polishing off the last bite of her enchilada.

“How so?”

“Johnny’s gonna be gone and I’ve got about thirty things going at once,” she said. She ran a hand through her dark hair, a nervous habit when she was stressed. “So I might need your help getting Maddie to cheer practice, if you’re around.”

“Of course,” I said. I licked the last of the salt off the rim of the margarita glass. “Just let me know when.”

“I will,” she said, nodding. “I’d normally have her just miss since it’s only one practice, but our coach is kind of on fire because she thinks we actually have a chance to win the regional competition for the first time ever.”

“Really?”

Brenda nodded. “Yep. At least that’s what she’s saying. She’s kind of a loon, but she’s been pretty excited the last two days and she claims we have a legitimate shot. And if we were to win regionals, then we’d go on to the state tournament and that’s never happened. I’m skeptical, but she’s putting emphasis on the practices, so I hate to have Maddie miss.”

I nodded. I didn’t know much about cheerleading because none of our girls had ever shown an interest in it. But her girls were huge into ballet and dance. They’d added in cheer to supplement some of their skills in dancing. I’d heard lots of horror stories about parents and other girls and coaches over the last couple of years and while I knew Brenda’s girls got some positive things out of it, I was glad we weren’t immersed in that world.

“Though, I have to admit, I don’t feel very good about it,” Brenda said, frowning.

“What do you mean? About cheerleading?”

“About the competition,” she said. “And why our coach thinks we have a chance to win.”

I wasn’t following. “Because you’re better this year?”

“No. I mean, yeah, sure, we are. She’s done some good things with the girls and I’m pleased with Maddie’s progress.” She paused and reached for a chip in the half-empty basket. “But this one team, the Moose River Fusion? They’re a total powerhouse. Just really, really good. But our coach is all pumped up about our chances because the Fusion is going to be at a significant disadvantage. And that doesn’t feel too good to me.”

“Oh wow. That’s not so cool, ” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Is someone hurt on their team? Or did someone quit?”

She took a drink from her water glass and shook her head. “No, not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“So they have this girl, right?” Brenda explained. “She’s pretty amazing. We’ve seen her at a couple of competitions. She’s very pretty, she can jump through the roof and she’s a great dancer. She’s the kind of girl every coach would want to build a team around.”