Lila Bellamy tossed the empty Rice-A-Roni box into the garbage and returned to the stove where she stirred the pot on the burner. “Camille,” she called out. “Dinner’s ready.”
Exhausted, she pulled plates from the cupboard and set the table. “Camille, dinner. Don’t make me call you again!”
“Gosh, Mom. You don’t have to yell.” Her daughter slugged into the kitchen, flip-flops slapping the tiled floor.
Lila surveyed the girl dressed in baggy sweats and a T-shirt, hair pulled back. She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “Is that what you wore to school today?”
Camille shrugged. “Yeah.” She scowled at her mother’s inspection. “What?”
Lila sighed. “Nothing. Dinner’s ready.”
Her daughter padded over to the stove and peeked into the pot. “I’m on a low-carb diet.”
Lila refrained from rolling her eyes. Last month it was twelve-hour fasting. Before that, the Mediterranean Diet and the Flexitarian eating program. Camille flitted between weight-loss programs like butterflies on mountain lupines. Besides, her petite blonde daughter didn’t need to lose a single pound. She was already perfect.
Still, she knew better than to fight Camille about her eating habits. It wasn’t worth the conflict. For the most part, she still ate healthy. “Fine. What do you want?”
“I’ll just grab something on the way to the game,” she said. “Do you have a twenty?”
“I’m not a bank,” she reminded her daughter, even as she went for her purse.
Camille grabbed the bill from her mother’s hand. “Thanks, Mom!” Despite her earlier pronouncement, she picked up the spoon on the counter, scooped rice from the pot, and slid it inside her mouth. Immediately, she grimaced. “Ew, how can you eat that stuff?”
Lila watched her daughter head back to her room. “Oh, Mom?” she called over her shoulder. “Can you drop me off at the game on your way to Reva’s?”
Lila groaned. She’d forgotten this was their get-together night. After the long night out at Charlie Grace’s the evening before, she’d planned on finishing up some online homework, then a hot bath and bed. Especially since she’d spent most of the afternoon dealing with car trouble.
“Baby, you’re going to have to catch a ride. Did you forget my vehicle is in the shop?”
She could hear her daughter groan from down the hall. “That car is so lame.”
Lila couldn’t argue the fact, but she didn’t have a choice. A new purchase wasn’t in the budget. Camille needed several hundred dollars for volleyball camp, her own vet school tuition was due for next semester, and now this big expense. It never ended.
She’d received military survivor benefits after Aaron was killed but raising a daughter on a single income still had its challenges.
Lila pulled her phone from her jeans pocket. She should text her girlfriends. They’d understand if she bagged out.
Before she could tap out her message, her phone rang. It was Capri.
“Hey,” her friend said when Lila answered. “I just heard your car is in the shop. What happened?”
“Ernie thinks I blew a gasket.”
“Oh, no!”
Lila sighed. “Yeah, worst timing.”
“I could look at it,” Capri offered. “But if it is a gasket, the car might not be worth fixing.”
Capri had an enviable mechanical ability. She could fix almost anything.
“Nah,” Lila told her. “I’ll figure it out. But I think I need to skip tonight?—”
“No way. No skipping our girlfriend night. Besides, sounds like you need some fun.”
Lila didn’t want to argue. “Okay. But I’ll need a ride.”
“You got it,” Capri promised.
